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Please, for the love of god, stop "re-creating" the following things for your photo shoots: anything Marilyn Monroe has ever done, anything Brigitte Bardot has ever done, anything James Dean has ever done, anything Bettie Page has ever done, The Wizard of Oz (I'm looking at you, New York), that late-night diner painting, anything from the '80s in an attempt to be ironic, Barbarella, Audrey Hepburn's cigarette holder and pearls photo from Breakfast at Tiffany's, scenes from Bond movies, the Abbey Road album cover, or the Rat Packers doing anything, especially in Vegas. It is played. It makes dead people roll around in their graves. Nobody likes that.
And just in case you get any ideas, don't start re-creating: Dogs Playing Poker, Britney's crotch shots, Einstein's "Wazzup?!" photo, Friends drinking milkshakes, the Pink Floyd back catalog poster every stoner has in their dorm room, Lunch Atop a Skyscraper, this thing, or this thing.
I can't explain why this irks me so much. It's such a blatant parody of the archetypal magazine internship experience that I should just accept it as such and move on. And yet ... I just want to smack everyone involved -- Tyra, Elle fashion director Anne Slowey, the eleven contestants who will stop at nothing to be Slowey's bitch, supermodel Maggie Rizer for deigning to appear as a guest on such a trainwreck of a show. Perhaps I have rage issues that need addressing.
Underwhelmed by the so-not-surprising- I-can't-even-believe-people-are-reporting-it news that Miley Cyrus will be hosting Fox's "Teen Choice 2008" this August, I've compiled a concise list of more compelling things I could do instead. Drumroll!
I think we all can agree, having watched America's Next Top Model for 49 cycles now, that what makes a top model in the Tyraverse is not any of the model-esque qualities you might assume are prerequisites -- superior height, facial symmetry, a runway walk not copied from Peter Boyle's performance in Young Frankenstein -- but rather the "desire," the "really wanting this"-ness. By which of course I mean the undignified, and un-optional, coating of Tyra's giant ass in damp kisses, the better to evolve Tyra's delusion of herself as a benign (and gigantic) Henrietta Higgins who Does Good For People. A girl's real-world modeling potential is irrelevant here -- fortunately, since few of the contestants have any such thing, which, naturally, is why they get onto the show in the first place. Nobody with a snowball's chance in hell of getting work in the industry on her own is as pathetically grateful for the faux-pportunities offered by ANTM (for real, the Seventeen readership's age tops out at around 13), and it's that pathetic gratitude that Tyra requires.
Tyra has gotten more and more obnoxiously imperious in the last year or two, but her fucktardedly outsized sense of her own importance isn't a problem per se -- at least, not compared with the problem it must pose for her employees. What is a problem, from a television standpoint, is that that grandiose insistence on choosing the girl who thanks/beseeches/admires Tyra the most fervently, instead of the girl who's the best qualified (or, you know, qualified at all), voids the competition of any significance. Tyra doesn't think we notice it, I suspect; Tyra doesn't see, or is not hearing anyone who tries to tell her, that the motives behind her choices are increasingly obvious.
Was there no job available for Kevin Covais? Nothing? Not the search for America's most compelling science-fair project?
Those of you hoping to get your Aaron Sorkin fix on Broadway may have to go back to reading Sports Night recaps -- his play about the (alleged?) creator of television, Philo Farnsworth, "has shuttered for now" due to the Broadway strike.
Frazier Moore's AP story makes much of Farnsworth's persistently bad luck -- didn't get credit for his invention; died penniless -- and how the strike's effect on the show is yet another iteration of same. But if fickle fortune is punishing anyone, I suspect it's Sorkin himself, for sins of hubris related to the sublimely frustrating and obnoxious Studio 60.
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