Review of Young Talent Time - Serving up a remake teeming with talent

THE new young talent team really, really deserved all your lovin' last night. Read Holly Byrnes' review.

YTT

THINK of the kids.

The poor kids. Jazz hands worked to the bone. Cramping cheeks from all the smiling.

Then blasting his way into their spotlight, their 6.30pm Super Sunday timeslot, comes an Atomic local hero and an sports star Australians have adopted as our own.

Young Talent Time versus Tomic and Federer.

Ten's first salvo in the ratings war against an Australian Open match-up for the history books.

You can almost hear Channel 7's David Leckie and new CEO Tim Worner laughing from here. Through a bit of canny play-making with the tournament schedule they will, most likely, have registered their first win against rival and former stablemate James Warburton, now guiding Channel 10's ship.

But it's not the big boys we should worry about - it's the kids. The young talent team, who really, really deserved all your lovin' last night.

For all the sentimentality around this format, the memories seen through the Vaselined lens of time, this new generation talent series is what television really, really needs right now.

Tina Arena, who shocked many when she agreed to return to the show which made her a child star, has been overcome with emotion about the program's comeback and the genuine warmth transferred to her and those who made it compulsory family viewing.

But this is not an ego-driven vehicle designed to make the judges or mentors the stars. And that's a good thing.

While the first episode leaned heavily on nostalgia, it was mostly about the tiny teamsters with huge talent and enormous futures. How they handled the past, and shook it off, was always going to be key with retreading this vehicle for 2012.

It was done beautifully, and most humbly, by Johnny Young, who handed over the hosting reins to the impressive and radically matured Rob Mills. You can understand how difficult it must have been to hand your "child" over to another carer, but had Young held too tight this may not have the life in it that it does.

Stepping inside the studio audience for the recording of the first episode, I felt the mother instinct kick in too.

So many happy Saturday nights had been spent with my sisters, hairbrushes in hand, teased fringes a la Dannii Minogue, warbling about cakes in the rain like Tina. What would they do with the show we had loved so much?

Sitting next to my three nieces - 4, 6, 15 - all mesmerised by the stage lights, the hi-tech LED screens, the cameras, the costumes, the dancing girls who looked like they did (braces are, like, so cool now!) I could breathe easy.

The mix of multi-cultural faces was a risk in the 1970s, and strangely seemed like a huge leap forward last night.

Both mentors, Arena and US choreographer Chucky Klapow, proved their credentials in performances that injected so much energy and integrity into the program.

This is not a show for has-been C-listers, eager to earn a quick buck, hacking at the esteem of novice singers and dancers. These are bona-fide stars in search of real talent.

And they have found it, in kids like Lyndall, from Liverpool in Sydney's west, who opened the show with all the confidence of a seasoned performer.

Or Adrien, pin-up material with genuine skills to match. And the infectious Nicolas, all chubby cheeks and cheeky good humour (but what a voice).

The playlist was contemporary too: Lady Gaga's Edge Of Glory, Jessie J's Price Tag, Black Eyed Peas' Gotta Feeling. As most parents will tell you, all in the top 10 for their junior backseat crooners.

Then when the old young Timers danced out, I admit, there was a tear (don't judge me). Bevin, Karen, Jamie, John ... we've missed you.