I wish they would bring back the old format:
1)No audiences.
2)Round 2
3) Then boot camp.
1)No audiences.
2)Round 2
3) Then boot camp.
Bring back the old format.
To be fair, I actually thought the audience was a good idea. It worked very well last year and really enjoyed the audiences; it really added another dimension.
Not sure about this year. Really disappointed with the audition episodes, and I always loved the audition as much as the live shows, but this year has been horrible.
The editing has been bad; the drama is taken overboard; and the audience influence is annoying. It's really not been good so far.
Not sure about this year. Really disappointed with the audition episodes, and I always loved the audition as much as the live shows, but this year has been horrible.
The editing has been bad; the drama is taken overboard; and the audience influence is annoying. It's really not been good so far.
I would take it back further to Pop Idol days and ditch the jusges as mentors. Keep the singles and groups in the final 12 though to keep it different from Pop Idol.
I really couldn't give a crap which judge wins. Judges should be impartial. They never will be, but it shouldn't be as blatant as it is the way they do it on this show.
I really couldn't give a crap which judge wins. Judges should be impartial. They never will be, but it shouldn't be as blatant as it is the way they do it on this show.
It serves pompously to make the program feel important. At this stage they're hell bent on eradicating any nuance of intimacy or spontaneity. All pretence of a talented unknown walking in and winning the respect of a music impresario has been dropped. Mr Cowell's gradual transfiguration into the character he used to play on television is complete. Ironically, he's deaf to the fact the sanctity of that a cappella audition chamber, and the potential revealed inside for truth telling, both by singer and critic, was the only fig leaf protecting the modesty of Simon's shrivelled credibility. It was always a pantomime, it turns out, but now there's an audience to shout he's behind you. The boneheaded literalism of every post-produced cliche, that grips the viewer's hand tight, and pulls her shamelessly into the peaks and troughs of the storyline, has a mesmeric grandeur of supreme awfulness. It's the televisual equivalent of having your eyes gouged out by a spoon when you just want to eat your pudding. And if that makes no sense, nor does the X Factor. What a mockery it's become.
Originally Posted by Blue Aardvark:
“It serves pompously to make the program feel important. At this stage they're hell bent on eradicating any nuance of intimacy or spontaneity. All pretence of a talented unknown walking in and winning the respect of a music impresario has been dropped. Mr Cowell's gradual transfiguration into the character he used to play on television is complete. Ironically, he's deaf to the fact the sanctity of that a cappella audition chamber, and the potential revealed inside for truth telling, both by singer and critic, was the only fig leaf protecting the modesty of Simon's shrivelled credibility. It was always a pantomime, it turns out, but now there's an audience to shout he's behind you. The boneheaded literalism of every post-produced cliche, that grips the viewer's hand tight, and pulls her shamelessly into the peaks and troughs of the storyline, has a mesmeric grandeur of supreme awfulness. It's the televisual equivalent of having your eyes gouged out by a spoon when you just want to eat your pudding. And if that makes no sense, nor does the X Factor. What a mockery it's become.”
“It serves pompously to make the program feel important. At this stage they're hell bent on eradicating any nuance of intimacy or spontaneity. All pretence of a talented unknown walking in and winning the respect of a music impresario has been dropped. Mr Cowell's gradual transfiguration into the character he used to play on television is complete. Ironically, he's deaf to the fact the sanctity of that a cappella audition chamber, and the potential revealed inside for truth telling, both by singer and critic, was the only fig leaf protecting the modesty of Simon's shrivelled credibility. It was always a pantomime, it turns out, but now there's an audience to shout he's behind you. The boneheaded literalism of every post-produced cliche, that grips the viewer's hand tight, and pulls her shamelessly into the peaks and troughs of the storyline, has a mesmeric grandeur of supreme awfulness. It's the televisual equivalent of having your eyes gouged out by a spoon when you just want to eat your pudding. And if that makes no sense, nor does the X Factor. What a mockery it's become.”
"her"? Excuse me madam, there are plenty of men who watch X Factor, too, you know! Agree with you, though-the show's endless manipulation is really grating on me this year.
