Hey everybody, it’s time for an other installment of Davis’ Pop Kulture Korner!!!!!!!
Davis’ Pop Kulture Korner!!!
Skittly Bop Doo Skorner!!!
Davis’ Pop Kulture Korner!!!
Skattle Bip Dum Shkormer!!!
Today’s installment is about “So You Think You Can Dance.” Or, as I like to call it, “The World’s Lowest Stakes Reality TV Show.” Or, “Nigel Lythgoe’s Parade of Insufferably Self-Important Artistes.” Or, “It Seems A Little Cruel To Choreograph A Number In Which This Male Dancer Has To Once Again Pretend to Be Attracted To This Female Dancer.”
Do I watch SYTYCD? I don’t know. Would you say that a baby girl whose parents are chain smokers is herself a smoker? Whether I “watch” it or not, I’m exposed to it by Melissa for several hours on what seems like a daily basis. Do they run new episodes twice a day Monday through Sunday? It seems like they do. And that’s not counting all the numbers that just absolutely must be re-watched over and over again. So even though I don’t watch willingly, I’m exposed to it enough that I’ve developed a few thoughts and opinions on this dreadful, dreadful show.
This is bad, but I think second-hand So You Think You Can Dance is worse.
* As I mentioned above, I’m continually amazed by how low the stakes of this competition are. When you win SYTYCD, what do you get? Some money ($100K?) and the title of “America’s Favorite Dancer.” I love that title. “America’s Favorite Dancer.” “America” does not, never has, and won’t for the foreseeable future have a “Favorite Dancer.” The winner of SYTYCD essentially gets a one-way ticket to Anonymous Town, along with all the contestants who lost. Think about it: The contestants on this show – even the winner – will never be more famous and have more exposure than they do while on the show. Winning just isn’t really worth anything. See, that’s what makes – OK, made – American Idol exciting. Contestants were vying to vault to superstardom. Yeah, they were enjoying their spot on TV’s biggest show, but that was small potatoes when compared with the chance of being the next Carrie Underwood. Idol winners could go on to bigger and better things. When SYTYCD winners finish the show the absolute best case scenario is to be a back-up dancer in a J.Lo video. Kind of depressing.
* Kook already mentioned this here, but it bears mentioning again: Let’s just take it easy with the whole “journey” thing.
* Producers: You have been ignoring me on this particular matter, and I’m starting to take it personally. Stop – just stop – the whole “I’m really sorry to have to tell you this . . . but you will have to quit your job because you are going to be joining us on SYTYCD . . . as a stage hand. Yes, I’m sorry, you’ll only be a stage hand. AND “STAGEHAND” IS OUR NEW TERM FOR “CONTESTANT.” But “contestant” is our new term for “Not on the show.” And you’re not on the show . . . because you’re going to be on the show!!!!!!” Nobody – not one single person – is fooled by these little fake-outs anymore. I don’t know why you’re still doing it. Stop doing it.
* I touched on this idea in this post here, and I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t have much of a discerning palate when it comes to dance, but I have a reeeeeeaaaaalllly hard time with some of the critiques the judges give the dancers and their routines. I don’t know what it means to “dance from on an honest place,” and I’m not sure anyone else does, either.
I’ll end with a few quick thoughts on the judges:
Mia: Represents everything that is wrong with this show, the arts in general, and really, if you think about it, the world. Self-important, self-righteous, and very obviously seething with anger at the fact that she’s overweight and is forced by her profession to be surrounded by the most beautiful bodies on earth.
“I really hated that routine.” (Translation: You are so skinny. I am so hungry.)
Mary: I find her annoying – That voice! That laugh! – but for whatever reason I can’t find it in my heart to dislike her, bless her heart.
Adam: Love him. Love everything about him. Love that he’s a crier. Love that he wears terrible necklaces. Love him. Get him his own show.
This guy has made so many contributions to dance and to the mistaken idea that it’s OK for grown men to wear necklaces.
Nigel: Great guy. Big fan. Terrible, terrible fashion sense – Lose the leather blazers, already! – but immensely likable.
Feathered hair is what the kids like nowadays, right?
Lil C: He may have many virtues, but whatever they are they don’t outweigh his need to flip open the thesaurus and find the longest word for every occasion (and then often use that word incorrectly).
Sonja: I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, and as a result, I have a hard time relating to artists. They’re a foreign species to me. Sonja embodies this foreignness. And yet, for some unknowable reason, I love her. I can’t explain why. I don’t understand her, but I’m glad there are a few weirdos like her roaming the planet.
It’s not inconsistent to be grateful that there are people like her in the world while at the same time hoping that none of your kids turns out to be one of them.
Cat: I used to like her, and I’m not sure what happened. Somewhere along the line her congeniality morphed into a sickly, cloying sweetness that’s hard for me to take. Also: why did they choose a 6’2 host to interact with all the 5’2 dancers? It always reminds of me Chewbacca hanging out with the Ewoks.
Drop the act, Deeley. We know you don’t care about whose journey is ending tonight.
Tyce: Can’t take the weird facial hair, can’t take the over-the-top facial expressions, can’t take the self-importance and the ego. Go back to Broadway.
Bravely combating the stereotype that gay men know enough about fashion to not sport a chin strap.
Oh, and one final thing: I find it so weird that they decided to end people’s solo routines – usually danced to moody, beautiful music – with the guy with the low voice saying, “Dance dance dance.” Kind of a mood killer.