The fad for heavily groomed, rising pop stars to play small venues on their way to headlining enormodomes has surely reached peak piss-take now. Barely half an hour long (including encore), Dua Lipa’s performance at Oslo is so depressingly phoned-in that brevity is its only virtue. Much money has clearly been spent: the custom stage set is amusingly bombastic for a venue this size, and her band (and their accompanying backing track) are crisp and well-drilled, but Lipa’s charisma-free delivery is toxic.
The undeniable pep of Be The One raises the temperature a little, although it comes over as little more than karaoke as Lipa paces around stage, disengaged to the point of catatonia, with an expression that says, “Really? I’m missing Midsomer Murders to do this?”. The feeling’s mutual mate.