For all those dreaming of a camp Christmas, here it surely comes: Mariah Meets Rylan. Our own Rylan Clark, the nonpareil of reality TV stars, Essex boy and the nation’s guncle (“gay uncle” for those of you who couldn’t place the vibe though you were warmed by it nonetheless) is brought into the orbit of the greatest star in the seasonal firmament, Mariah Carey; she of the five-octave voice, multiple music awards, feted singer and songwriter, seller of 220m records and counting and all-round extraordinary talent.
Rylan is thrilled. Mariah is … less so. They sit opposite each other in remarkably cheap-looking cream boucle armchairs for a notional fireside chat to mark the 30th anniversary of her mega hit All I Want for Christmas Is You. He is energetic, funny – even witty when he gets a chance – and clearly a genuine devotee. She is … none of these things. Mariah sits – regally, do I need to say? – on one of the cheap chairs, a blank-faced queen ready to receive her due from a subject, but so ungraciously that it rapidly becomes dreadful to watch.
