A pale facsimile
I grew up in the land of single-channel TV, where shows were really sponsored and the best was saved for Sundays. To be precise, the Ed Sullivan Show.
Here, I learned all that a young child needed to know about culture; where opera could be followed by stand-up comedy could be followed by someone twirling plates. Acts that have never been forgotten.
Well, summer at NBC is in full bloom, and the promise of a really big show came with Regis, Brandy, Piers and the guy who drove Knight Rider all the way to the beach… a talent search, where opera could be followed by stand-up comedy could be followed by someone twirling plates. Are you with me so far?
The first episodes, shown over and over again to boost the Neilsen numbers, did have some great moments. Some proof that talent does exist in the universe. And then the voting show came on. Rarely has so much hype fallen so flat, not since a memorable cake baked in an Enterprise oven with jumping children to provide the necessary seismics.
I learned that the judges always like everything, unless it is so bad that even they have to hit the buzzer. I learned that it is fair game to place successful career musicians in direct competition with young children. I learned that even dogs don’t steal the show in some circumstances. The only thing missing was a Celine Cameo; she no longer has to go seeking million dollar prizes.
I don’t think I’ll need to see any more, thank you very much. I will wait for Corina Brouder’s album and I will practice my harmonica, even though I am no longer thirteen years young. Thank you very much, Regis. We know who wants to be a Millionaire, version two.
