Advertisement

'It's miraculous!' Rylan's journey from X-Factor joke to king of Eurovision


At this point the majority of British people know better than to get excited about the Eurovision song contest. After all, we don’t need a glittering all-star international gala to remind us we’re friendless and alone in the world, because we’ve got everything that happens in the news for that.

But still, nestled among all this despair lies one minuscule glimmer of hope; one tiny reminder that we still have something to offer Europe. That’s right: Rylan Clark-Neal is going to read out the British votes.

It’s a small role, but prestigious nonetheless. In recent years it’s been filled by the likes of Scott Mills, Richard Osman and Nigella Lawson, but this time it feels like a perfect fit. More than that; it feels like a coronation. I never expected to hear these words coming from my mouth, but Rylan is pretty much our newest national treasure.

His start couldn’t have been less auspicious, as the bleach-blond, nuclear-skinned joke contestant of The X-Factor 2012. Back then he was a taller, slightly more self-aware Wagner analogue, destined to crash out early and make his meagre living by warbling like an anaesthetised mermaid at disinterested Butlins punters until he disappeared off the map.

A less than auspicious start ... Rylan on The X-Factor.

And yet, miraculously, he’s risen through the ranks at breakneck pace. He co-hosted a Big Brother spin-off. He had a role on This Morning that basically just amounted to monitoring Kim Kardashian’s Twitter feed. He presented a short-lived and genuinely baffling Russian Doll-themed daytime ITV gameshow called Babushka. But then the BBC has co-opted him into the big league; handing him guest hosting spots on The One Show, a co-host role on Strictly: It Takes Two and his own weekend Radio 2 show. He’s part of the establishment now. He’s enmeshed within our culture. He should be sewn on to flags.

His rise is unlikely, but it makes perfect sense. What propelled him through X-Factor all those years ago wasn’t his voice, but his charm and quick wit. He possessed a healthy amount of self-deprecation, reining himself back in whenever he got too confident or emotional. And he appears to take his work very very seriously, identifying and working on his limitations at every turn. I have met Rylan exactly once before, and he word-for-word repeated something I’d written about him years earlier. Which was mortifying for me, obviously, but demonstrated a dedication to his craft you don’t often find.

Representing the country on Eurovision night is a weird, thankless job. Stick to the role and you’ll get lost in the soup of spokespeople, but inject too much personality into your stint and you’ll become the most hated person in Europe for 30 seconds. To truly succeed – especially without the international recognition of a Nigella – you have to be an assassin. Show up, do your job, make a mark and disappear again.

But I think it might be the job Rylan has always been destined for. He has a distinctive look, like General Zod moonlighting on TOWIE, which will get him noticed. He has a sharp mind, so he’ll be able to comment on the events of the night smartly and succinctly. He’s intelligent enough to read some numbers off a screen. He has it all.

On what’s bound to be another miserable night of more European humiliation, Rylan might just be the only thing to cheer us up. Who knows, he might cheer all of Eurovision up, too. He might do so well that the entire European people come together in an act of compassion and forgive us for everything. Without exaggeration, Rylan might end up becoming nothing less than the man who single-handedly saves Brexit. No pressure.