Gee Corbett from World of Wonder’s London office writes:
The HIGHS:
The Return of the Spice Girls: Victoria Beckham and her posse of Cavalli-clad pop puppets decided 2007 was going to be their year. The comeback video saw Mel C and Baby looking pissed off as Geri rolled around in nothing but a bra while Posh Spice cocked her legs in gaffer’s tape bondage. Scary Spice frolicked around the floor and rubbed her groin. For a bunch of middle-aged, dried-up, vocally challenged, common slags, they sure know how to put on a live show. Posh pointed, Scary roared, Baby bounced, Sporty sported a sports bra and Ginger looked as desperate and uncomfortable as she always did. Thanks for the memories, now fuck off.
Pete’s PA: What was not to love. Plastic surgery masterpiece, pop icon, and generally daft dresser Pete Burns was looking for a PA. Bring on an assorted bunch of Britain’s craziest characters, lock them in a house together, set a few challenges, throw away the key, and wait for them to stab each other in the back. Genius.
Amy Winehouse: Ohhhhh the Winebag, so much talent, so much hair, and so little sense. My mother always told me “Drugs are for Mugs” and she had a point. Britain’s biggest talent may still be top of the charts, while her personal life is what tabloid dreams are made of. Get well soon Wino. WE LOVE YOU.
WOW’s new development team aka The United Nations: When America, Ireland, and Wales collided there was a creative explosion. Many ideas were simply ahead of their time. Jew-swish (Jewish gays doing something camp), Celebrity Death Race (tagline: What could be more tragic than dying to be famous), and Families (broad but brilliant).
Kerry Katona: The ex-Atomic Vomit singer and reality TV car crash gave us the best quote of the year: “Mum said it was sherbet and wiped it all over my mouth – it was speed.”
After the jump: The LOWS
The LOWS:
Kate Nash: This infuriating excuse for a popstar captured our attention with the brilliant single “Foundations”; the rest of the album plays out like a council estate mother of three singing nursery rhymes with naughty words. Her personal style of belted, patterned, secondhand dresses left her looking like a sexless Nora Batty.
Equus: Daniel Radcliff of Harry Pofter fame got his meat, two veg, and unkempt bush out in a dreary old play from the ’70s about fucking horses or something. The audience was full of old faggots gagging for wizard cock, Potter fans desperate to see their little Harry doing some real acting, and readers of Horse and Hound magazine. They all got off on it, the theatre had a heady aroma of fish fingers and dried semen.
Tell No One: One of those “must-see” films people are always banging on about. French crime caper with lots of running around and car chasing. Could have really benefited from a makeover montage set to Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know?” and an all-cast sing-along under the Eiffel Tower.
The X Factor: It’s very hard to care about a talent show with zero talent. We all knew Leona (voice of an angel, personality of a brussels sprout) Lewis was going to be a hard act to follow but Jesus Christ no one thought it would be this bad. Overall winner Leon Jackson should thank his lucky stars his mother is poor as a church mouse; somehow, the sob story covered up the fact that he can’t sing in tune and has a face that could scare a paedophile out of a playground.
Jamie Lynn Spears: What a daft cow. You’d think watching big sister Britney would have taught her that the Spears women are not natural born mothers. If she has any sense she’ll be running to the nearest abortion clinic screaming. “I’m a celebrity, get it out of me!”
