A FEW weeks ago I talked about how Auntie’s The Voice had trumped ITV’s Cowell juggernaut Britain’s Got Talent.
No sooner had my column appeared in the very paper you hold in your hands now (apologies internet readers) than I sat down to watch that weekend’s installment.
I rubbed my hands with glee at the thought of two people singing the same song at the same time.
After the third set of people did it, I turned off The Voice and haven’t watched it since.
Apparently the programme is now shedding viewers by the truckload and there are calls for judges to be sacked.
I don’t blame the judges, I blame the format.
It seems to spend most of Saturday and Sunday night on our screens and, frankly, an hour on Saturday and an hour on Sunday is enough for any programme.
Any show which requires a packed lunch and emergency Kendal Mint Cake bar in order to get through is too much for me.
So The Voice bosses, who no doubt peruse the Examiner with interest, next year make it shorter – or combine it with Antiques Roadshow for the Sunday.
Can you imagine Will.I.Am valuing a Faberge egg and a oil on canvas of the Fourth Earl of Lichfield?
Now that’s entertainment.