Why "America's Got Talent" is Part of the Problem

(original published at the now-defunct www.poweredbyshows.com)

Just to set things absolutely straight before we go on, I am a very big fan of reality television. Despite the fact that since last March Entertainment Weekly has declared the absolutely true notion that we are currently living in a “Golden Age of Television” in this country, there is still a very large percentage of poorly written, formulaic garbage on network TV we as an audience have to sift through in order to get to the good stuff. (This also would be due to the fact that a good portion of this Golden Age programming happens to not be on the Big Four.) This is where reality TV comes in: for those of us sick and tired of the same police procedurals and sloppy characterization, shows such as Survivor, Big Brother, The Amazing Race, American Idol, America’s Next Top Model and Hell’s Kitchen sort of circumvent that process and give us what we as viewers truly demand: unabashed entertainment. You can gripe all you want about its blight on the television landscape, but it has opened up the industry to nearly twice as many news jobs (consider all the editors and writers needed for each show) and have the ability to be far more interesting and unpredictable (it’s the nature of the best of the shows) than another family drama.

Just like any genre, though, reality TV has its share of groaners. Other than a few random series watched more for the novelty than for the entertainment (Average Joe, For Love Or Money, Joe Millionaire, Mr. Personality), I have avoided nearly all dating shows. Same goes with wife-swapping shows and programs that have “nanny” in the title. These are stinkers. But one that truly gets my goat is NBC’s smash summer hit America’s Got Talent.

Nothing against David Hasselhoff, but this is a pretty awful show that tries to ride the line between Chuck Barris Gong Show ridiculousness and American Idol competition and tends to fail time and time again. It preys on our interest as an audience that we want to see train wrecks happen onstage, but this rubbernecking is something that has led to ineffective nightly news and the muckraking of such pundits as Bill O’Reilly. It’s stupid without being funny, and cruel without being constructive. It’s a freakshow and nothing more.

In the best reality competitions, the contestants have to possess skills in order to move ahead, hence the combined popularity and good critical reception of such programs as Top Chef, Project Runway, Project Greenlight and early seasons of The Apprentice. The participants cannot get by on silly tricks but instead must step forward and pretty much rock the show’s foundation. Not so with America’s Got Talent. In this talent show mess, people from across the country show acts that they believe can earn them $1,000,000. Problem is, no magic show or small animal act is worth even a fraction of that, nor are circus/sideshow tricks designed for birthday parties. These people either expose their delusions, which is pathetic even on megahit American Idol, or simply want their 15 minutes of fame, something the best reality shows refuse to dole out. It’s a formula for obnoxious, unwatchable television.

The bad acts don’t entertain, the good acts belong on other shows, and against the conceit of the show that the program is intended for a variety of great acts, a singer will without question win if left up to the vote of the American people...which it is. I’d love to see a show where contestants bring forth advances in sociological or technological or political advances and allowing the show to fund their dreams and help them reach the people who can really make a difference in the world. It might not work as a show, but I won’t feel like I’ll need a shower after watching it, either. Reality television can one day change the world, and while I am very delighted with most of the good entertainment reality television brings forth, I also support it for what it can do.

Basket Case

Is it weird that I can name the winners of Survivor in chronological order?

Is it strange that I know all the lyrics to High School Musical?

It is troubling that in the most recent episode of Prison Break I recognized the exterior of a supermarket as being used in the underappreciated 1999 film The Thirteenth Floor? (And then equally knowing that in the scene in question in said film, the reverse angle on Craig Bierko, as opposed to Gretchen Mol's angle, was filmed in an entirely different location?)

I've been catching myself more and more in these idiot savant moments, and it's starting to become stranger and stranger. The problems with some of these morsels of trivial knowledge are slightly running closer and closer with the advantages to be had with such a brain of pop culture mumbo-jumbo.

Equally, I have been mildly haunted by a good friend of mine saying, when I called his buddies "those crazy people," he responded, "What do you mean? You're the first lunatic I ever knew," referring to our heavily quirky friendship that was formed in the Saint Mary's College High School year of 2000-2001. I'll be walking across my front yard to get the mail and notice I have been mumbling incoherancies to myself with nary a reason. When I run back conversations in my head--usually recent, but not exclusively--and I add new dialogue from my side that I should have said at the time, I will make appropriate hand gestures to accentuate my intelligent and witty [post-conversation] points, which was only pointed out to me recently by my sister that this is fucking creepy, especially tied with the fact that I unknowingly mumble said dialogue. I will visibly wince when remembering a truly horrible/embarrassing moment from any number of places from my life, as opposed to keeping it inside my own brain, safe, where it will inevitably become an ulcer.

On the one hand, it's good to say that in my chosen field--a clusterfuck of filmmaking, arts journalism and snobbishness--having such media knowledge is an advantage, one that will take me far and just maybe let me stand out.

On the other hand, I feel that in knowing, say, that Thomas Ian Nicholas from Rookie of the Year and the American Pie series is heavily Christian, I have abruptly pushed out vital knowledge that regular human beings use, as opposed to Invasion hybrids like myself. What piece of information will push out my trigonometry skills? Will my obsession with this year's Oscar race make me forget specifics of the Louisiana Purchase? Will seeing Jackass Number Two take the place in my brain that once knew the smell of the trees at my childhood home on 1582 Milvia between Cedar and Vine?

And on the third hand--the one on the arm sticking out of my ear--am I finally noticing what everyone else has known? That Marcus Gorman is just crazy? That this spaz of a kid who grew up to be a spaz of an adult may just be off his rocker, even just a little?

*Sigh* I don't know.