Now this is what you call bad television.
“Grease: You’re the One That I Want” is two hours of “reality” television at its worst. I know television networks have no shame, but NBC can’t be proud of this lame attempt to spin some “American Idol” luchre their way. We finally get through the monotonous preliminaries to the talent portion of this casting contest, and the producers bring back two surprise cry-baby contestants, Ashley and Matt (left), just to spice things up. Then, when America (and by America we mean a very, very small percentage of Americans) votes, the judges ignore the will of the people and off the two “surprise” cry-babies who shouldn’t have been brought back in the first place.
Ridiculous. And Sunday night’s two-hour episode (watched in a much more digestible 45 minutes — thank you, TiVo) was not at all helped by the presence of Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber, who presided over the Sandy candidates bombasting their way through his songbook, while the Dannys, inexplicably, attempted to over-choreograph their supposedly “sexy” songs.
I’m done. I can’t devote precious Sunday-night time to this anymore (especially as Ricky Gervais’ brilliant “Extras” is coming to a close on HBO). I’ll check in online and see who gets dumped in future weeks, but my attempt to digest a fatty, gristle-ridden chunk of reality TV — only because of the Broadway bent — is tabled … at least until the return of “Project Runway.”
I’d been watching from the start, but I didn’t watch last night’s, since last week the show went from barely tolerable to downright unwatchable. To be honest, I’d only been watching it because my wife really wanted to see it, plus I have a personal connection to the movie (it was filmed at my high school). But I can’t even bring myself to watch the episode you mentioned, even with TiVo.
I thought the Grease Academy parts were at least somewhat interesting, but then, I like watching how a show comes together. I’m not really into all the American Idol-esque hysterics.
Now, if they did a reality show about the rehearsal process, that I might watch (a little).
It’s almost worth watching last Sunday’s debacle, if only because Lord Lloyd Webber seems borderline autistic or something. The guy may have a way with a melody, but charisma doesn’t exactly pour out of him.
And by the way, Cheshire, how cool that you went to “Rydell High.” You actually ARE Danny Zucco.
How kind of you to notice!