In these days of manufactured boy bands, media manipulation, short-termism, capitalism gone haywire and “reality TV” it is incredibly easy to be cynical. The daily press is rife with tales of greed, theft, selfishness and extortion; if one were to read each item literally, it would paint an incredibly depressing picture of humanity.
And every so often something like this comes along. One of those moments that shocks you and captures your attention so immediately, it is, quite literally, unforgettable.
For those of you who are unaware of the background, Britain’s Got Talent is a reality TV show designed to find the most talented person (or people) in the country. Individuals or groups are given their 30 seconds of fame in a series of (seeminly never ending) auditions until they are either voted off by a panel of judges, or voted through to the next round. The idea is that we get to laugh at the arrogance of people who have the audacity to showcase their ‘talent’ (categories range from acts like juggling, contortionism, magic, stand-up comedy through to the ever popular music) and quietly applaud those who are acceptable enough to make it through to subsequent rounds. To be frank, most people aren’t really interested in seeing the genuinely talented acts until the ‘dross’ has been cleared, so most of the early rounds is about the TV producers finding the weirdest people they can and allowing us to laugh at just how crass they are.
So here we have Susan Boyle. A 47 year old single woman from Scotland, who lives with her cats in a small town in the regions of Scotland. She looks odd, dresses like Anthony Perkins’ mother character from Pycho and has eyebrows that meet in the middle. We are teed up from the onset to expect a dramatic failue – she is overconfident when being interviewed, wants to be a “professional singer”, like “Elaine Page” and the reason that we have never seen or heard of her before is that she “hasn’t been given the opportunity” and what’s more, she chooses a huge song to sing – “I dreamed a dream” from Les Miserables.
The music starts and whilst we wait with baited breath for a hideously tuneless screeching, we are treated instead to an incredibly powerful, goosebump-enducing rendition. It might not be musically ‘perfect’, but it certainly makes your hair stand on end.
But, more compelling than the notion of an individual who belies their appearance and proves their worth, was the reaction of the audience. From the first note, they recognise that there is a genuine talent on the stage and the tone instantly switches from cries of derision to roars of encouragement. The crowd are on their feet, applauding and willing Susan to deliver the performance that they have immediately recognised she is capable of. And that she does. Then, having delivered the performance of her life, she simply walks off stage.
For those of you who get depressed in the cynicism and self-centred nature of humanity, it is a humbling experience to watch. And on a weekend where the theme is about rebirth, it is quite fitting , really.