What's happening and who it's happening to, for example.
For that reason, I am aware of what's been going on this season on Dancing With The Stars.
And even though I've done more than my share of lampooning the celebrity value of the "stars" this last couple of seasons, I've also been pretty vocal about how, in the end, it takes a lot of guts to get up in front of millions of people each week and do that.
All of that said, as I've often said, I don't watch the show.
And while I really do admire (and probably live vicariously though) those folks with the aforementioned guts, I've never made watching the actual show a habit.
For a long time, I just assumed, when I gave it any thought, my lack of watching was the result of having something else to do or watch at the time.
This week I realized why I don't watch the show.
The judges.
Not the judging.
The judges.
Back in a minute.
(CBS) After Chaz Bono's difficult tango to the "Phantom of the Opera" on Monday night, his mom got upset. Very upset. Perhaps she will be relieved that her boy - whose astoundingly equitable personality had been a fine feature of the competition - was finally voted off Tuesday by the grouchy grannies at home.
Monday night, Cher had tweeted in reference to judge Bruno Tonioli's criticisms of her son: "I COULD TEACH HIS LITTLE ARM WAVING ASS SOME MANNERS! Critique CHAZ'S DANCE STYLE, MOVEMENTS ETC,.BUT DON'T MAKE FUN OF MY CHILD ON NAT.TV."
No mom wants to hear her boy referred to with the words: "It was like watching a cute little penguin trying to be a big menacing bird of prey." This had, indeed, been the description Tonioli had offered.
In truth, Bono has clearly been in physical pain, as well as some emotional anguish, as the judges continued to offer him love tougher than any seen in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre."
This show is clearly cruelty for beauty's sake. These poor people are like beagles who are being held captive in order to test mascara or lipstick. Well, except that the beagles don't get paid.
It was left to Martina McBride to offer a little balance by standing quietly on stage and singing a song about how tough it is when you get cancer. Then, we focused on Bono's pain.
"If you're an overweight woman in this competition losing weight they love you," moaned Cher's boy. "But if you're a overweight guy trying to do this competition and getting in shape, they penalize you for it and call you a penguin."
Some might feel he had a point. No one can joke about overweight women, other than the women themselves. The roly-polyness of men seems to be fair game.
Bono wasn't finished. He felt that Tonioli made him feel like "a fat troll who dances with this beautiful woman every week."
Social networking has created a fascinating world.
A world in which I find myself totally in agreement with, of all people, Cher.
If this program intends to be an authentic competition, with the accompanying good sportsmanship that any reasonable person (read: grownup who doesn't feel the need to be the class clown every week), producers would be well advised to take one of two courses of action.
Either tell the judges to offer their expert, professionally and respectfully offered, critique of the dance techniques and presentations of the competitors and stop trying to "make cute/clever" with what almost ends up being condescension and ridicule disguised as "wit".
Or show these three sitting down wanna be stand-ups the door and find three judges who can keep the low blow bullshit to themselves.
Every single contestant who gives their time, and vulnerability, to this program deserves the respect of being treated with respect.
Yes, even Nancy Grace.
And, yes, if she ever did the show, Kim Kardashian, too.
Chaz Bono, as of last night, simply didn't dance well enough to earn the points necessary to remain in the contest.
But having to endure the patronizing, gratuitous and insulting comments made by the three "experts" who judge that contest in their candy ass attempts to be "funny" demeans not only the contestants, but the spirit of sportsmanship.
Come to think of it, forget the first of the two options.
Show Tonioli the door.
If I want sincerely and unhurtfully ethnic funny, I've got years of Ricky Ricardo available on DVD.
No comments:
Post a Comment