The songs are of such puerile, clichéd nothingness, they had me ripping the stuffing from the cinema’s seats. After the fifth song – at the same tempo – I resorted to eating it. To give her some credit, she’s a gregarious (albeit talentless) girl who knows how to play her audience. But then she has been coached in the art of contrivance, as we discover during a couple of pre-concert rehearsal scenes.
Honestly, the whole thing washed over me in a foggy malaise of flashing lights and cornily choreographed set pieces. And I wasn’t the only one to feel the effect; even the two knowledgeable 11-year-old kids I took along were left feeling equally shell shocked.