I can only hope I wasn’t alone in thinking: “what the frick was that?”
I haven’t watched it for a few years now, so maybe I’ve changed rather than the Brits, but it appeared to me to be merely a love fest between the bands, presenters and James Corden.
How many times could someone strut (or swagger in the case of Pharrell and Kylie - two people I actually recognised) onto the centre stage and point with both arms at James Corden and say something along the lines of: “Can I hear some love for James Corden tonight ladies and gentleman?” or the classic “Give it up for James Corden tonight.”
Don’t get me wrong, I love James Corden, he can always make me giggle, and if the whole event was hinging on his cheeky banter and witty asides, then perhaps I could have got on board. But I’m sure he’s being paid enough, and has had enough national and international acclaim in his career, to feel confident without the barrage of very public bottom kissing - not to mention actual kissing from the disaster that is Nick Grimshaw.
I know it was his last Brits, and I would whole heartedly recommend him sticking to that, cause another year of that malarkey and it could be a career-ending moment!
Then there was Kate Moss in some ancient David Bowie outfit looking like someone’s drunk auntie at a wedding attempting to read the best man’s speech, dressed in a toddler’s sleepsuit. And a girl dressed as Morticia Adams, accepting her award more confidently and eloquently than any middle aged Bafta nominee - seventeen..she was seventeen!
And when I thought all would be salvaged at the arrival of Beyonce, I’m afraid I was left feeling luke warm about the whole affair..unless it’s All the Single Ladies or Destiny’s Child and Survivor, I’m afraid I’m reasonably indifferent.
One thing I did enjoy however was the Mastercard adverts straddling the coverage, that lady in the fairy outfit dancing with the kids to Happy was fabulous! (I fear I may have missed the point.)
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