Okay, so first of all, I don�t know if you guys knew about this or not, but last night they had a �special� episode of American Idol. Well, it certainly was �special�.
Basically, it existed solely as a lead-in to the latest sign of the Apocalypse, Mr. Personality. And before you ask, yes, I did in fact watch Mr. Personality. Shut up. The point is that this particular offering from the folks over at AI was an hour of yammering and �singing� from the remaining six contestants, with no judging at the end. Well, no official judging. Believe you me, though, they were judged.
To begin with, they didn�t even sing new stuff! Each contestant just picked their favorite of their past songs. So absolutely nothing new or of interest happened in the entire hour. Unless, of course, you�re intensely invested in the subject of Kimberley Locke�s hairstyle. Other than that it was just �Carmen this, Carmen that, Josh Josh, blah blah, other contestants whose names we�ve already forgotten so don�t vote for them! Carmen! Josh! Blah!� And then a group sing featuring all six of the producers� favorite AI contestants (Carmen, Carmen, Josh, Clay, Josh, and Carmen), and then it was all over, and no one gets to vote. So basically, they subjected us to a good three minutes of The Dread Carmen Rasmusen hooting and hollering her way through one of my favorite Diana Ross tunes (natch -- but at least she didn�t do Blondie again, right?) with no avenue of recourse through which to exact our revenge.
But as I said, this was all just a lame intro to FOX�s new disasterpiece of reality programming, Mr. Personality. For those of you living in a cave (or some such), allow me to familiarize you with the concept of this show. A famewhore (by the unlikely name of Hayley Arp -- no, seriously) cannot find a man. Obviously, this is intolerable, and lest she be cast into the smoking maw of a live volcano for this crime, FOX has generously decided to help her find a Y chromosome to which she might attach herself through the bonds of legal matrimony (I refuse to call it �holy�). But, being FOX, nothing comes without a price, and they have decided to exact their usual fee: her dignity.
Fortunately, famewhores don�t generally value their dignity or else they wouldn�t be on TV trolling for a date from a faceless man in a creepy faux-iron mask. Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Yeah, all of young Hayley�s potential suitors wear freaky-looking masks (and wimples, too, so no part of their head can be seen at all). The idea of this scary, Michael Jackson-y fashion statement is that Hayley will fall in love with their personalities, and not their looks. Hence the title, Mr. Personality. Although, if you ask me, the best personality in the world can�t counterbalance the creep factor of dating someone who looks like Darkman.
Anyway, this experiment in pride deprivation is hosted by none other than Monica Lewinsky. Yes, that Monica Lewinsky. So what are you waiting for? Go! Hurry! Watch! Seriously, it�s actually pretty humorous. I mean, I expected to be shamed and horrified (and I was, in parts), but I actually really enjoyed the show. As a host, Monica is actually a lot of fun; she is neither slick nor �Hollywood� enough to impartially schmooze the players, or even smooth over the troubled spots. So, when they get in a spot of trouble (like last night when Bachelor #10 completely wigged after he was eliminated, and went on a tirade of scary, men-in-white-suits proportions) Monica and Hayley just kind of shoot each other a couple of �Ooh, girl!� looks and then giggle behind their hands. And then make fun of the guy in private. As do the rest of us.
So it�s hard for me to decide how I really feel about this new series. It�s lame and it�s gimmicky, and at times, though Hayley claims to shun the superficiality of pure physical attraction (she�s in this because looks don�t matter! Honest!), she embraces several other superficial stereotypes that really bug (she seems to interpret pushy, aggressive behavior as being �confident� and �masculine� -- bleah). On the other hand, her observations are refreshingly unmitigated by any sense of political equanimity (�Number 10 scared the crap out of me!�), which I attribute to Monica. Hey, the host really sets the tone for the rest of the �cast�, you know? And that is very fun.
All in all, this is going to be one of those slow-mo train wreck programs: it�s awful and tragic, and you know it can�t lead to any good, but you just. Can�t. Turn. Away.
Damn right.
