It’s primetime on a Saturday night. There’s ridiculously dramatic music in the background. There’s quick editing. A clips montage. With people crying and laughing and looking shocked. Soundbites incorporating assurances of how critically important this all is. It all adds up to one thing and one thing only: a new TV talent show.

But, if How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria and Any Dream Will Do are anything to go by, I’d Do Anything will end up being a better TV talent show than most. Or better than the well-past-its-sell-by-date X Factor at any rate. Contrary to the news we relayed a few months ago (in good faith, dear readers!) Barry Humphries is not on the panel; instead, Cameron Mackintosh is the new judge. Along with Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber, then, we have what could easily be described as the two most important people in UK commercial theatre. Not exactly Amanda Holden and Dannii Minogue, is it…?

Mackintosh and Lloyd Webber meet up in an East End boozer (their local, no doubt) to discuss what they want from their Nancys and Olivers. Despite saying that they do best when they don’t agree, they seem pretty set on what they want – a street girl with guts and heart in equal measure (a mix of Amy Winehouse and early Shirley Bassey, apparently, if you can imagine such a thing), and a tough kid that bears no resemblance to the boy who played Oliver in the musical film.

Cue the obligatory Mark Ronson horns, and it’s time for the auditions. Casting director David Grinrod gets the dubious honour of sitting through all of the auditionees – and, on a rather tangential point, was introduced to music from Jesus Christ Superstar which only cemented my belief that it would have been much more fun if they’d been looking for a Jesus, a Judas and a Mary Magdelene. Now *that’s* a musical. Anyway, twelve minutes into the show, and we’ve already got our first sob story; our first of many, as it turns out. Come on Beeb, you’re better than this!

In fact, the search for the Olivers seems like it’s going to end up as a sideshow precisely *because* they’re better than this. They’re clearly not willing to be accused of exploiting the emotional trials of young children for Saturday night entertainment – hence the group auditions, the lack of sob stories (or any stories at all, in fact), and the fact that we won’t be choosing the Olivers at all. The emotional investment, I fear, just won’t be there – it’s honourable, but it’s not great TV. Throughout this show we got cursary glances of the Olivers, only to quickly return to the Nancys with whom it’s perfectly acceptable to wring out the tears…

After the inital auditions 109 Nancys and 50 Olivers were invited to London to perform in front of John Barrowman, Denise van Outen (both returning to the panel) and David Grinrod. Their hunt for ‘rawness’ means that they have to turn away some great singers, but when a really phenomenal singer walks into the room, they can’t bear to turn her away, and quite right too. “You’re going to Nancy school!” they cry. Er, fab.

The low point of the show was a montage of auditionees begging to be put through – here’s a selection: “I *am* Nancy! I’ll do anything! I can do it! Should I have worn a different dress? I just can’t understand what you’re not seeing… Now that you can see the feistiness, why won’t you put me through?!” Oh dear.

After a good twenty minutes of these callbacks, we returned to the Olivers – I had honestly forgotten that we were looking for Olivers too. Finally we got to see some individual performances, though, and there were some great little singers in there. Oliver is an acting role as much as it is a singing one, of course, so they all had a go at the scene where Oliver meets the Artful Dodger, and then the 50 were whittled down to 12. Just like that. Back to the Nancys then, and we have a country bumpkin, the East End kid, and a posh girl. All human life is here! Well, all easily categorised characters in the producers’ pre-defined “story arc” at any rate. One of the best auditionees we saw was called, naturally, Nancy – watch out for her, she’ll go far.