Okay, look, a LOT went down at today’s Belarussian audition and I may seem to be blogging about it for a while, but while everyone else is talking about the Potato Monks and Daz and Nona and the old man who looks like a retired Mario, I think there are real gems in there that people are missing, like this song:
Don’t get me wrong. The song is dreadful. I wish the singer were pitched a little higher and her mic levels were turned up and the song wasn’t quite as repetitive as it is.
But all those negatives pale in comparison to the absolute joy that is this Belarussian hype man. He’s totally bought into the concept. Yeah! We can make a movie, because you’re such a good actress! Look, I’ll pretend to do the clapper bit myself, and then stand in the background and point and let you take centre stage until I need to come out and hype you back up again. Yeah! What an actress!
Belarussian hype man, I need to know how much you would charge to come to London and follow me around for the day bringing your own special brand of hype to my life.
You could stand behind me in a meeting, looking tall and broad but completely unthreatening in that jacket, and then hype me up when I’m done talking.
“Yeah! That was such a good point! I’m so glad you made it! You should be an executive! Let’s make you HBIC!”
I’d take you to lunch at Pret, and you’d stand behind me as I paid:
“Yeah! What a great choice! The carrot soup is delicious and nutritious! And girl, you use that contactless like no one else. Swipe, baby, swipe! Let’s all wave and pay!”
We’d go ride the Tube, and get on a crowded Jubilee line carriage, and you’d say:
“Great work letting other people off first! Yeah, girl, take that backpack off to make room for more passengers! You’re killing this commute!”
I know that you didn’t make the Belarussian finals so you’ve probably got some time now. My people are waiting to hear from your people. Call me!