Amazingly it is 16 days to
the minute since the Games of the XXX Olympiad surprised an expectant
world. We started slowly, both in the Opening Ceremony and medal
acquisition, but since then everything has whizzed by like Wiggo on a
bike.
It has been a much better
couple of weeks than everyone expected and most do not want the games
to end, not least because no one wants to risk more Paul McCartney at
the Closing Ceremony.
The Olympics has certainly
inspired the youth of this country, although ironically it has turned
many into couch potatoes, glued to the TV.
Without any trace of
sarcasm, Sue Barker says, “If you would like to watch the ceremony
without commentary, press the red button. Here's Trevor Nelson...”
Somehow Trev has qualified
for the final. The mute button is gonna be working overtime tonight
with him, Jessie J, Emeli Sandé etc.
The Hirst thing we see is
an abstract Union Jack sprawled out across the stadium like a
patriotic paintball pummelling. London's skyline is dotted around the
park, including Saint Paul's, Gherkin, Battersea Power Station, and
Big Ben, which accompanies the disjointed countdown to the beginning
of the end.
Emeli Sandé starts the
section entitled Rush Hour, but I can't see a black or Chinese
detective anywhere. I am in no rush to listen to her again as she
still sounds amateurish. It's not great, it's just karaokey.
Stomp
clatter the London Eye and their staple bins, miming their way
through their slot. It would have been an
ideal moment for the grouch to pop their head out of a bin but alas
the Queen is not providing another hilarious spectacular. Bin
there, done that.
Lapping the track are
vehicles from skateboards to wedding cars. Timothy Spall pops up as
Churchill with some more Tempest and tells everyone to shut it. He
hasn't quite got the authority of Ray Winstone, and is more Churchill
the dog than prime minister.
Prince Harry has been sent
along to represent the royal family. What were they thinking? The
joke buzzing around is they are keeping the Queen away from Harry
Styles. No doubt she was at home thinking “I did my stint at the
Opening Ceremony.”
More iconic imagery for
the Street Party with Michael Caine counting us down to an exploding
Robin Reliant (“You're only supposed to blow the bloody doors
off!”). Del and Rodders get out in their Batman and Robin costume.
We initially think they have pulled off a triffic coup and reunited
David Jason and Nicholas Lyndhurst, but only fools rush in - they are
just impersonators.
Many of the foreigners who
don't understand English culture are saying “This is madness”,
and lo and behold Camden's sons appear like genies from a lamp with
'Our House'.
Blur aren't here so
'Parklife' is performed by the Queen's Guard Band. Blur are playing
the closing concert at Hyde Park and aren't quite rock star enough to
commandeer a helicopter over. All we need now is for Phil Daniels to
appear to convince the world that we really do talk like that.
Here come the Pet Shop
Boys with 'West End Girls', although their preference is surely East
End Boys. They are being cycled in on rickety chariots by drivers
wearing orange, anti-aerodynamic helmets. I think they're mad and the
keyboard's unstable.
One Direction come along
early in the proceedings and stimulate the teen girls with their
fresh, youthful tones. It saves the kids sitting through subsequent
ageing rockers and means they can get off to bed to do what follows
naturally after watching their teen idols.
Stomp march us from Street
Party to Waterloo Sunset - the hustle and bustle of the working day
that we have forgotten about due to slacking off work the last
fortnight.
Spelbound provide an
underwhelming acrobatic display. Perhaps their pedestrian performance
is an antithesis to Rush Hour?
Ray Davies of The Kinks
exits a cab without even paying the driver. He probably wouldn't mind
the scenic route as he has a well-known affinity to London, hence his
love-letter 'Waterloo Sunset'.
The tease is on. A camera
creeps up on a mysterious individual from behind. Has the reclusive
David Bowie been persuaded out? It's been a while since we have seen
him. Not so with imposter Emeli Sandé of whom we have seen far too
much. She reprises her way through 'Read All About It'. Unfortunately
we have to listen all about it too. I
want to strangle her slowly although I imagine she would still sound
the same.
Elbow give Emeli the
elbow. The athletes are welcomed with 'Open Arms' and led into their
mosh-pit surrounding the stage.
There is a reprise of all
of the songs already played as the athletes are slowly kettled.
Surely we have a few more songs on our nation's jukebox? I could
easily have done them a mixtape had they asked. Instead we have to
suffer 'Now That's What I Call Repetitive 12'.
The athletes are having a
rare old time of it. Their dedication in not letting themselves go
for the last couple of years is being rapidly bypassed tonight, like
a crap runner in the 10000m. There are some tipsy athletes already
and it will be interesting to see how many future Olympic superheroes
are conceived tonight.
303 blocks, representing
the Olympic events are piled up on the stage, but I urge you to avoid
them as it appears to be some sort of pyramid scheme. There were
rumours Kate Bush was going to appear, but they always faced an
uphill battle getting her and we have to settle for a recording of
'Running Up That Hill' while Tetris is completed.
The next segment, Here
Comes The Sun, includes the Marathon medal ceremony so the runners
get the perfect stage to lap up the glory (or 105 laps to put it into
perspective). In fact they could run a marathon and a half in the
time this ceremony takes. It is somewhat surprising that Emeli Sandé
doesn’t turn up to sing Uganda's national anthem.
There is a huge cheer as
'Bohemian Rhapsody' starts to play. Might just be coincidence that
Emeli Sandé is led out of the Olympic Stadium in shackles at the
same time.
A deaf scouse kiddie choir
sing and sign 'Imagine' by John Lennon. It is heartwarming to see
them using their hands for signing rather than stealing. They turn
Lennon into a crackhead by forming an image of his face from 101
fragments (presumably just after his head was shot into smithereens).
George Michael, looking
less chubby than Merv Hughes, but similarly hairy, returns to plays
his ode to acne 'Freederm', which is spot on, then a new song about
his survival, 'White Light', which is quite shite. He gets caught
lip-synching but at least it wasn't in the bogs again.
Ricky Wilson of Kaiser
Chiefs appears on a scooter with a load of other mods and goes at it
full tilt, plunging straight into 'Pinball Wizard'. Ching ching
ching!
Russell Brand becomes
Willy Wanka and “sings” his way through 'Pure Imagination' on top
of a psychedelic bus. He virtually gives up on the miming through a
second song, 'I Am The Walrus'. Tusk tusk.
Fatboy Slim mixes up his
mischief from inside a zorby octopus. He usually needs lots of arms
to work his magic but miming along to mixing is considerably easier.
The
lively atmosphere continues with Jessie J in Madonna hand-me-downs
belting out 'Price Tag', Tinie Tempah singing about God knows what,
and Taio Cruz serving a party platter tune in 'Dynamite'. They all
combine for an abysmal version of the Bee Gees 'You Should Be
Dancing'.
Uh-oh a mass of taxi
drivers are gathering - bad time for a blockade. The highway code
goes right out the window with their manoeuvres. First they slam it
to the left, then they shake it to the right. Taxi for the Spice
Girls!
Twig Spice gets no air
time and barely a look-in on camera. You can just imagine David
Beckham fielding that one with the kids. “Daddy, why doesn't mummy
get any lines? Why is everyone ignoring her?”. “No talent and
face like a monkey's arse, but sshh, don't tell mummy!”
The elaborately-adorned
taxis zoom around with a Spice Girl on each. Victoria is clinging on
for dear life, as there's a real risk of the airhead blowing off.
Boris is dad-dancing along
to Spice Girls. David Cameron is a bit more conservative. Derren
Brown tweets, "If anyone wants me to eradicate their memories of
Cameron or Boris dancing just say."
Beady Eye, an Oasis
tribute band, perform a great new song called 'Wonderwall'. It has
all the hallmarks of classic Oasis and should do very well. Liam
really should invest in a new roadie as his current one never sets
his mic at the right height.
It's a Who's Who of
illicit substances tonight. Let's hope none of the performers are
taken aside for a random drug test.
Eric Idle appears from the
ground after a failed cannon ejection and recites 'Always Look On The
Bright Side Of Life', the newly adopted British national anthem. We
got sick of 'God Save The Queen' what with all that winning we did.
Morris dancers are
clacking around him. Nuns with patriotic pants are whizzing by on
roller blades. Soldiers are enforcing the discipline. Bagpipers are
making their usual drone. A heavenly host of dreamy angels are
looking deliciously divine. Then out of nowhere a load of Indians
appear for some daft dancing. Eric gets distracted as they choke him
before he quips “Life's a piece of shit when you look at it”,
'Life' being code for the Closing Ceremony.
Muse sing 'Survival', the
song of the Olympic Games. Meanwhile the backing group seem to be
signing along to 'Agadoo'. Come and dance every night to the Musey
melody.
Freddie Mercury is
resurrected from the ground as a screen rises with the “deyo deyo”
footage from 1986, followed by the screeching guitars of Brian May.
He has a grey witch-like thatch. If it was green he would be
Grotbags.
Jessie J has had the
barnacles picked off her costume and has half a leg added. She joins
the alive members of Queen for some regicide during 'We Will Rock
(and irritate the shit out of) You'. Sing up Jessie, I can't hear you
over the sound of Freddy turning in his grave.
Boris has the flag and
he's waving it precariously close to the Olympic flame. Quit the
formalities and leg it Boris! They can't have the games if they
haven't got the flag.
Boris reluctantly hands
the flag over to the head of IOC, Rogge the Bodge, then onto a
visibly-excited Mayor of Rio. Predictably Pele pops up but he's not
visibly-excited as he hasn't popped one (blue pill not boner).
Renato Smile, a real life
road-sweeper who became a YouTube sensation after dancing in the
street, sweeps away the turd of a ceremony. He breaks into a Samba
and it is time for carnival as he is joined by other dancers.
The closing ceremony
starts to fade away when Take That give us yet another anthem in
'Rule The World'. Britain did just that for a couple of weeks, but we
can safely return to being cynical, miserable and self-hating once
again.
The flame that burned so
brightly in London is no more as it is extinguished to some wistful
music. It's not quite the closing sequence of the Incredible Hulk TV
series but it does the job.
Proving that we are mostly
a nation of ageing and dead rockers, The Who finish us off with some
dad-rock classics. Thankfully the organisers decided against letting
bitch Elton John lend a hand. I could easily see him doing “Goodbye
London's Games”.
The Games are officially
over and we have corrected some misconceptions about our country. The
rest of the world used to think we were shit at sport and great at
music. Consider yourselves shown, world.