James Berry

Originally brought onto our screens for the right reasons, to find the next singing star and giving anyone across all demographics a chance to make their mark. Sadly, this once respectable singing competition has now been reduced to a circus show, where contestants are now more likely to be judged by the eccentricity of their personalities and the uniqueness of their backgrounds. The show has lost its identity, and with it, its X Factor. Cowell now needs to let go of a now failing enterprise, represented by its increasingly-uncompetitive ratings, compared its BBC timeslot rival Strictly Come Dancing, which still continues to go from strength to strength. This is by means of successfully converting any controversies and talking points into higher audiences, with plenty more life in the franchise yet. But with X Factor, flogging a dead horse is certainly no exaggeration, resorting to the depths of trash talking amongst the judges which is apparently entertainment. Once an inspired opportunity for the masses, now the drag act of reality television that plagues our screens every Saturday and Sunday night. The Fat Lady is warming her vocal chords before the swansong that I only pray closes the curtains on what is no longer a singing competition, but exhibits the wrong kind of X Factor. Syco, your next project please. And make it quick.