Reviews on the internet are supposed to be pithy, entertaining, and glib. Alas, regarding The WB's Superstar USA, I am unable to produce such a review.
In 2004, millions of dollars were spent by the Warner Brothers network to produce this show, handsomely compensating its host and celebrity judges, following which the show was sent to millions of homes throughout the United States.
The WB's Superstar USA sought to find the worst singer in the United States, just as "American Idol" tried to find the best. At the same time, the show's intent was to humiliate its contestants and, by doing so, entertain its audience -- not in the style of the old game show "Beat the Clock," where people would perform outrageous stunts for money. No, singers here were manipulated and given ambiguously clever commentary, but were never told what was actually happening to them.
It's true, most of them sang very badly, but they were also led to believe that great things were ahead, during which the host winked knowingly at the TV audience. In the end, all contestants but one were eliminated. The final result was announced three minutes before the closing credits rolled, probably to avoid showing the intense pain which must have resulted once the winner could figure things out. As it turned out, she was an apparently sweet young woman who suddenly realized that she had been deceived from the beginning by everyone she had come into contact with.
While this was going on, producer and idea man Mike Fleiss sat in his office, grinned, and raked in more money than most of us will ever see. In executive meetings, I'm sure, and by the water cooler, people slapped him on the back and told him how brilliant he was and how utterly ridiculous all those contestants were.
Hundreds of work hours and untold numbers of emails and phone calls went into Mike Fleiss's project, one designed to humiliate people.
No, I wasn't one of those contestants or a friend to any of them. No, I'm not a singer. Nor am I a member of any church, political party, or organization that espouses any kind of moral rectitude.
I'm just a person who feels that the anonymity of being a viewer, one far from Hollywood, is no excuse to participate in humiliating someone. And that there is no excuse for a man like Mike Fleiss to take pride in reaping such rewards, or in fact any rewards, for the cruelty he inspired.
As it turns out, you see, money isn't everything.
In 2004, millions of dollars were spent by the Warner Brothers network to produce this show, handsomely compensating its host and celebrity judges, following which the show was sent to millions of homes throughout the United States.
The WB's Superstar USA sought to find the worst singer in the United States, just as "American Idol" tried to find the best. At the same time, the show's intent was to humiliate its contestants and, by doing so, entertain its audience -- not in the style of the old game show "Beat the Clock," where people would perform outrageous stunts for money. No, singers here were manipulated and given ambiguously clever commentary, but were never told what was actually happening to them.
It's true, most of them sang very badly, but they were also led to believe that great things were ahead, during which the host winked knowingly at the TV audience. In the end, all contestants but one were eliminated. The final result was announced three minutes before the closing credits rolled, probably to avoid showing the intense pain which must have resulted once the winner could figure things out. As it turned out, she was an apparently sweet young woman who suddenly realized that she had been deceived from the beginning by everyone she had come into contact with.
While this was going on, producer and idea man Mike Fleiss sat in his office, grinned, and raked in more money than most of us will ever see. In executive meetings, I'm sure, and by the water cooler, people slapped him on the back and told him how brilliant he was and how utterly ridiculous all those contestants were.
Hundreds of work hours and untold numbers of emails and phone calls went into Mike Fleiss's project, one designed to humiliate people.
No, I wasn't one of those contestants or a friend to any of them. No, I'm not a singer. Nor am I a member of any church, political party, or organization that espouses any kind of moral rectitude.
I'm just a person who feels that the anonymity of being a viewer, one far from Hollywood, is no excuse to participate in humiliating someone. And that there is no excuse for a man like Mike Fleiss to take pride in reaping such rewards, or in fact any rewards, for the cruelty he inspired.
As it turns out, you see, money isn't everything.