TV Stories

29th July 2005

REMOTE AQUAINTENCES

Let me just say that at the Kumara household when I am allowed to have my way with the TV remote (which because of the way I have configured the TV, video and DVD with WWII 'enigma' coding - is all the time) that out of the 20 plus channels we have on call, we eventually end up watching crap.

But I like crap. People bang on about 'quality TV' but isn't that objective? The 'quality' of TV, to my mind, lies in its ability to entertain me at the fleeting instant in which I am watching it.
After a hard day at the corporate office (or down ta' mill), the last thing you want to do is come home and watch a documentary about a miserable Russian, like Tolstoy.
Even a documentary about a happy russian would be unwelcome.

What you want is easily digestible mindless rubbish OR if the TVNZ programmers are right, a documentary about a heinous medical condition or operations gone wrong from the genre "Weepy Medical Doco", involving combinations of the following - children, disfigurement, medical inefficacy, distraught parents, ghastly operations, hankies...

Once "quality" was, in some folks minds, simply code for British, which really doesn’t stack up now at all. It's been long time since Sunday Theatre has set the TV drama benchmark and American programs such as 'The Sopranos, Deadwood and Six Feet Under clearly lead the way. Some of my older friends, whose Anglo centric programming is more deeply entrenched, still hold the 'Best is British' belief but when questioned aggressively or drunkenly (which can be very similar) will inevitably say "what about Prime Suspect" etc.. and I scarely need to print the wine particle accompanied reply I usually give to them..

The new series of NZ IDOL began recently and we were among the many viewers -

Life without Brian.

At the early stages, and I feel that we may have already past it's entertainment peak, IT IS compelling viewing.
Brian Edwards, who has a penchant for stating the obvious as though no one else had ever thought of it, has pointed out helpfully that it's all about humiliation.

Well.. hh yeah.. of course it is.

It's also about, as you watch some unfortunate sod murder a song, wondering - WHAT THE HELL WERE THEY THINKING!!? How can some of these people be so deluded as to imagine they could sing at all. It may be possible for them to pretend they are only singing in a private room in front of 4 people but really, they are in more living rooms in the country than bad wallpaper... and they are dying, right there on the screen..

It's remarkable, and bloody good telly.

New judge Jackie Clarke has been a pleasant surprise because I really did have the knives out and well sharpened for her.
What are her credentials? I would ask aloud to an indifferent TV screen and even more indifferent flatmates. I mean she sang ads and novelty items in a band called "When the cats been spayed", (I see what they've done there) has never written a tune in her life, is 'theatrical', which I suppose isn't a real crime.
But really, that all makes her perfect for the job.

New Zealand Idol after all, is far more - cheap TV dinner spectacle than serious music career launcher. Ben Lummis, last years star, has fallen from the pop heavens and back to terra firma in an almost efficient fashion (NASA should take notice). Actually a more accurate NASA analogy - it's more like he flew into the sky and exploded. Idol is a modern combination of two very old entertainment vehicles - the freak show and the talent contest. Which is how it should be. Imagine how dire the show would be it were to take itself seriously and the judges were people like- William Dart, Neil Finn and Graeme Downes.

I just hope and pray that at some stage, for just one contestant, Jackie Clarke will say -

"That song would be much better with a bowl of fruit on your head"


Slightly troubling,I suppose, is the fact that my favourite TV character at the moment is the indolent, drug-taking, whimsical lawyer from the little mentioned TV1 show HUFF. I think whimsical is the right word, although when I use it, I think of an englishman in tweed with a monocle on and Russell Tupper is far more ruthless and self serving than that.
HUFF lead Hank Azaria voices half the incidental voices in post-modern (sorry, abused-word)classic The Simpson’s and there is something PM about HUFF too, or at least very modern, or if it's possible post post-modern (So maybe it's old again).

The lawyer Russell is played by Oliver Platt who I have always liked, but has often been lumbered with crap roles (Lake Placid anyone?).
In defence of my enjoyment of his character, I point to the following features.
He's multi faceted (likes both cocaine and heroin), is good with women (will sleep with anyone) and is not obsessed with his job (lazy bastard).

Starting this week also was - DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES. I knew I would possibly like it but it surprises, because it is actually quite smart. I won’t use the PM phrase again, but it begins with a playful animation of iconic artworks (see trivia question) and like the fantastic movie "Sunset Boulevard" is narrated by a dead person. It also knows what it is and makes fun of itself. The perfect housewife character, for instance, takes her Martha Stewart perfection to a wonderfully excessive "Stepford Wives" degree.

It therefore has a degree of self-awareness and don’t knock that because that’s what separates us from the amoebas and most animals.
Dogs for instance. They don’t even really know they are dogs. They just are.
Also they do not go around asking - Why am I here?
I am dog therefore I am. Etc
Hell no. The dog’s great appeal lies in its straightforward nature, it's transparency.
With a dog, what you see is what you get, simple.
I'm a dog.
I must eat.
sniff.... What's that weird smell?? I must shag.
Very simple.

Who's to know though? maybe they do ponder the big questions (where’s my bone? - ed)..maybe when they stare up at doorknobs they ponder the same sort of existential questions Jean Paul Satre asked when he stared at doorknobs.

Maybe when a dog is sniffing another dogs arse it's looking up there for the secrets of the universe or the answer to the great philosophical dilemmas.
Maybe they stare at the poop there to discover the BIG answers. Poop is after all a palindrome, which is at least slightly mysterious.

A dog ponders the ass and declares -
"Life can only be understood backwards. But it must be lived forwards."

Anyway lets look at what a self-aware man will do but the simple dog will not.
(bear with me - normal transmission will resume shortly)

Let's imagine there’s a group of dogs who are well known primarily for their famous charismatic leader with a great bark. OK. Well, say that dog leader, let's for arguments sake pretend he's called Michael Hutchence, dies during a regrettable self-abuse incident with his collar.
Right.
Well, no group of dogs in their right mind are going to try to audition a new leader so they can carry on are they?
Dogs are not that vain. They don’t have vain, which is kind of my, extremely laboured, point... and it leads us to ROCK STAR: INXS..

Has there ever been a band which has clung more desperately to the limelight than INXS? for god sake.. They would tour a closet if they thought they could find a fan in there. They have absolutely no dignity. I just feel sorry for the contestants, because when they win, what they will get is a chance to tour half-filled venues in New Zealand or become Jon Stevens.

Finally big ups to ANTIQUE ROAD SHOW(the British one haven't watched US one). Item's crafted by people for other people with skill and passion, which rarely happens in our post postmodern world. I love this show and unless Brian Edwards knows something I don’t, No one is humiliated.
OK, I really must go as I am getting that come hither and
surf-4-shit look from my remote.
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...............KNOWINGLY ASSOCIATED WITH JUGGLERS.