Christmas specials tend to magnify the defining characteristics of a programme. So it was with The Piano, where the addition of Christmasiness to its manipulative formula (hardship + music = tears) resulted in levels of schmaltzy sentimentality that should be illegal.
Swapping its customary train station setting for London’s Battersea Power Station, The Piano at Christmas wheeled out a succession of former contestants to play for an audience of shoppers in Santa hats. Even hyper-twinkly presenter Claudia Winkleman couldn’t save this mawkish muddle. I truly hated every second.
As usual judges Lang Lang and Mika were watching from an eyrie somewhere rather than as part of the audience. That device is a hangover from when the show was new and their famous faces would give the game away – but with nobody under any illusions about what was unfolding in front of them, removing Mika and Lang Lang made no sense here.
As the first performer Alice sang Joni Mitchell’s “River” – beautifully, for what it’s worth – they kept their praise entirely between themselves. Why not pop down and say it in person? No idea.
Perhaps I shouldn’t be so tough. Following the news that this was Lang Lang’s last episode (run, Lang Lang, run!), there was an extra dash of emotion in the air. What’s more, the judges did deign to visit the concourse for the next performance, though their presence was arguably more combative than supportive. “We saw how absolutely nervous and terrified you are,” said Mika to Fran, wife of 2024 finalist Duncan who was briefly overcome as she accompanied his piano with singing. “It’s sweet of you to come down,” she said, graciously.
Next was 13-year-old Sammy from Liverpool with a nice, ballad version of “Walking in the Air”, followed by last series’ star Brad Kella. Having overcome a difficult childhood thanks to his beloved foster parents, he performed an original song called “Shelter”, dedicated to anyone without a safe place to be at Christmas. And while Brad and his sincere song are blameless, the show’s manufactured cues to cry left a horrid taste in my mouth.
Splicing together shots of homeless people, the accompanying footage felt especially jarring when we cut back to the shiny, corporate interior of the central London shopping centre. Certainly, it was hard to imagine anyone for whom the song was written hearing it there.
For me, this moment exemplified the show’s shallow, saccharine stance. The Piano’s performers are perfectly sweet, but the way they are presented is frankly sick-making: their talent reduced to sob stories, and those stories to slick montages.
As we learnt that, since filming, Alice had played with Rufus Wainwright, while Brad had signed a record deal and played at the Royal Albert Hall, I was delighted to think of them finally playing to the audiences they deserved, leaving The Piano blessedly far behind.
Whipping through Nerys and her Welsh choir, and 19-year-old Fredlin from Manchester (neither were sad, so they get didn’t much airtime), it was time for the grand finale: Lang Lang played “Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence” as his swan song before he and Mika joined forces for a nauseating duet of “With a Little Help From My Friends”.
Considering that Lang Lang’s parting gift to Mika was a cardboard cut-out of himself, and Mika was wearing a jumper with his own name on it, it was clear who the show’s real stars were supposed to be (at least, according to them).
Although Lang Lang won’t be with us next year, I’m sorry to say The Piano will apparently be back with a new judge, Jon Batiste. Here’s hoping he breathes fresh life into the format – yet, I fear that The Piano’s prurient and patronising DNA dooms it. Still, at least it’s over for another year, eh?
‘The Piano at Christmas’ is streaming on Channel 4
