Idol Hands are the Devil's
Playthings
March 11
"They're not out to make good music. They're out to make good television."
This was uttered by a good friend of mine, Colin Anderson. In college, we
were in the same a cappella group, making good music and putting on good shows
before the age of "American Idol".
By the time this column goes live, "Idol" would have named its own little
cadre of musicality, the final 12 participants, and the bumpy road to Nokia
Theatre LA Live - and for at least one warm body, superstardom, if only on paper
- would have begun. Americans of all makes, models, and creeds will have already
taken up sides as pop music from the last 50 years is whittled and condensed to
a couple of months and a dozen rank amateurs.
Pardon me if I'm not that excited. I mean, the American Idol of 2010 is not
the American Idol of 2002, back when the show was on in the summer, and it meant
something.
In 2002, "Idol" was just a summer show that Fox picked up from England to
fill two nights a week with programming on the cheap. In 2002, Simon Cowell was
just an A&R guy for BMG, whose then-parent company happened to be the distant
relative of the production company (BMG was owned by Bertelsmann AG before the
Sony purchase; Bertelsmann also owns a majority stake in RTL, the parent company
of FremantleMedia, producer of "Idol"). And in 2002, the big story stemming from
the show was of a Texas waitress's meteoric rise of her coronation single from
#52 to #1. However big that was, were it not for Final Jeopardy!, I probably
wouldn't have known that fact.
Fast-forward to 2003, where a closer-than-close final resulted in both winner
and runner-up achieving superstardom beyond their imagination, only to have it
fizzle that quickly. And it seems as time goes by, careers of the champions go
by quicker. Carrie Underwood is the lone exception that proves the rule, while
the jury is still out on David Cook and Kris Allen, who pocketed $650,000 as a
result of winning "American Idol", compared to the $1 million contract that
Kelly Clarkson won when the show first premiered.
Take it back to the title of the series: "American Idol: Search for a
Superstar". We haven't gotten many stories about the rise of the champions, but
we've gotten more than our fill of judges entering, judges leaving, people
alleging fix, people denying fix, people going through the backgrounds of the
contestants with a fine-toothed comb. And they're not even contestants anymore.
Starting with the final 12, they're now salaried employees of 19 Ltd. You're no
longer voting someone off, as you're telling Simon Fuller who to fire.
Some superstar.
And almost as big as the show has become, the audience - and therefore the
voting numbers - have dropped.
"American Idol" has just gotten too big. But not so big that a win means a
guaranteed career. Were I not part of the coverage for the show, I could
probably pick apart one or two good singers, leaving the so-so singers in a
nebulous blur.
"They're not out to make good music. They're out to make good television."
I wonder what Taylor Hicks' idea of good television is. It probably isn't
this after nine years.
Game Show Alphabet Redux
I'm reasonably sure that we're up to "O" this
week. And with a glut of hidden camera games out there (thank you, GSN), I think
it's high time we go to a show that did it right.
Regan Burns hosted "Oblivious" for two seasons
before Spike gave it the heave-ho in 2004. The premise was simple... you meet a
strange fellow who asks you five questions, then he reveals that you're on a
game show and that each question you answered correctly won you money. It was so
simple, a guy dressed up like a caveman could do it.
I don't recall such an episode taking place, but
there you go.
More information:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oblivious
Chico Alexander thought about auditioning for
American Idol back after college in 2002. E-mail him at
chico@gameshownewsnet.com.
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