There’s something electric about Britain’s Got Talent when an act walks onstage with quiet confidence — no flashy backstory, no overproduction — just talent waiting to strike. Jess Robinson, in the 2024 season, did just that. With nothing but a mic and a twinkle in her eye, she stepped into the spotlight… and changed the atmosphere of the room.
Dressed in a classic red dress with just the right amount of sparkle, Jess didn’t need theatrics. Her charisma did the heavy lifting. The crowd shifted in their seats, curious. The judges — Simon Cowell, Amanda Holden, Alesha Dixon, and Bruno Tonioli — leaned in.
Simon raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do for us today?”
Jess smiled. “I’m going to sing. But not… quite the way you expect.”
It started quietly.
She turned slightly to the side and, with a breathy drawl, launched into an uncanny impression of Marilyn Monroe singing “Happy Birthday”. The softness, the playfulness — it was uncanny. The audience chuckled.
Then, just as suddenly, she snapped her head, shifted her posture, and unleashed Lady Gaga’s signature growl from “Shallow”, complete with flawless timing and vocal technique. Gasps filled the air.
Amanda’s eyes widened. “Wait—what?”
The laughter stopped. People sat straighter. Something extraordinary was unfolding.
Without pause, Jess transformed again — this time into Julie Andrews, singing “Do-Re-Mi” with crisp, regal elegance. She even clasped her hands together like Maria on the Austrian hillside. The switch was so instant, so complete, that people forgot this was one person performing.
But she wasn’t done.
Next came Adele, heartbreak dripping from every note. Then a perfect Celine Dion, clutching her imaginary heart. Then Britney Spears, nasal and breathy, her voice dancing across the lyrics of “…Baby One More Time”.
The theater went wild.
Her vocal cords became a playground. She bounced between octaves, accents, vocal quirks — all without missing a beat. She was a chameleon of sound. No — she was a voice thief, stealing iconic tones and making them her own, only to give them back a moment later with a wink.
What made it magical wasn’t just the precision — it was the joy she brought to each impersonation. Jess wasn’t mocking these artists; she was celebrating them, embodying their essence, letting the audience relive their best moments.
Bruno stood up mid-act, clapping off-beat. “She’s got everybody inside her!”
When Jess finally ended her whirlwind medley with a dramatic, operatic finale (in the voice of Barbara Streisand, naturally), the crowd exploded. People were on their feet. Some were laughing. Some were tearing up. Many were shouting names of artists, hoping she’d do “just one more.”
Back at the judging table, Simon was shaking his head — not in disapproval, but in disbelief.
“You’re like five different finalists in one,” he said, his tone serious.
Jess grinned, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. “I get bored easily.”
Amanda added, “I’ve never seen anything like that. You don’t just do impressions — you become them.”
Alesha leaned into her mic. “And somehow, through all of them, we still saw you.”
It wasn’t just her talent that resonated — it was her control. Jess was never lost behind the voices. She was the narrator, the magician. The glue that held the madness together.
Simon finally asked, “How long have you been doing this?”
Jess hesitated. “All my life, really. But mostly for friends, for fun. I didn’t think anyone would take it seriously.”
“Well,” Simon said, tapping his pen against the desk, “they’re taking it seriously now.”
Then came the vote.
All four judges gave a resounding yes. But as the crowd’s cheers rose again, Jess looked overwhelmed. She turned, stepped toward the wings — and suddenly stopped.
From backstage, a faint voice shouted, “That’s my girl!”
The camera caught her mum in the wings, hands pressed to her mouth, eyes brimming with pride. She had no idea Jess would be this good. She’d encouraged the funny voices, the dramatic dinner table reenactments, the celebrity impressions since Jess was little — but this? This was another level.
Back onstage, Jess laughed and gave her a thumbs-up, before turning back to the judges.
Simon noticed. “Your mum’s here?”
“She insisted on coming,” Jess admitted, grinning. “But I didn’t tell her what I was actually doing.”
Amanda smiled. “Well, you just made her the proudest mum in the country.”
As Jess left the stage, the entire arena still buzzing, people turned to one another with wide eyes and disbelief.
Who was that woman?
Not just a singer. Not just a comic. Not just a mimic.
Jess Robinson had arrived as one person — and left as an unforgettable many.