Cesko hleda Superstar (the Czech Republic is Looking for a Superstar) is damn good TV. I don’t watch the tube all that much, but I’ll be going out of my way to tune into Nova every Sunday at 8 p.m to catch the Czech version of American Idol.
Last year Jitka & I got so hooked on it that, after we moved into our unfurnished, TV-less flat, we watched the semi-finals in the Sony shop in Centrum Cerny Most. We watched the finals on a wee little countertop tube at a friend’s place. We voted through our mobiles, sometimes more than once for the same singer. And we cheered out loud when Aneta Langerova took last year’s title.
Nova’s programming is, I suppose, the very Czech equivalent of Fox. A lot of tabloid TV, German or Austrian crime serials, lousy sitcoms, hokey variety shows, and news that focuses on sensationalist items and features an aww-jeez feel-good baby panda/caiman/albino tiger/etc. story as a bridge to sports. Big on lipsynching, willing to give prime-time specials to people like Dan Nekonecny, who is famous for lipsynching bad calypso, lousy dancing, and waving sparklers (I saw him on the metro once, on the yellow line – no joke – all dressed in yellow, hair Tweety-yellow, fingernails painted yellow, and a smile as bright white and fixed as a set of wind-up clacking teeth, fresh out of the box. Creepy).
But Superstar is a different story. It’s pure drama, with a hell of a lot of comic relief.
The drama tonight came from four performances in particular. All but one took place in in Ostrava (the beginning of the Brno segment followed). The first, an 18 year old girl named Silvie, nailed Mariah Carey’s Hero. The judges gave her the boot, the main reason (as I understood it) being that she had last year’s sound. As they gave her the verdict, you could see her lights go out and her spirit collapse. If she stops singing because of this, and Silvie gave the impression that she would do just that, it’ll be a damn shame.
Then this Ewok of a boy named Marek, 17, enters the room looking like he wants to ask if he’s in the right classroom, fifteen minutes late on his first day at a new school. The judges have a little laugh and give this kid, in his bulky brown sweatshirt and pile of scarves, curious glances. Then the kid starts singing Amazing Grace. The judges look stunned. My jaw drops. The Ewok was good enough to lead a Brooklyn gospel church choir. He did a second tune (something R&B) and clinched his advance to the next round. When he was told he’d be going to Prague, Marek squatted to catch his breath and actually fell over in shock and gratitude.
A dropdead gorgeous martial arts dancer, whose name I didn’t catch, was up next. She impressed them with a nice slow song, then blew it when they talked her into busting some moves and singing a battle song at the same time. She stumbled a few times because of her high heels and had obviously never done song and dance before. The panel gave her the boot as well. She didn’t look crushed, it was more like she was pissed off with the judges for coaxing her into doing her second number.
Finally, there was Filip, 19, a Slovak who, after not making the finals in the Slovak version of the show, took a train to Brno. Filip looks like one of those slackers whose presence always puts those around him in a good mood. Skinny, baggy-panted preppie skater look, a goofy permagrin, has an easy laugh. And Filip can sing well enough to take a shot at the title in Prague.
There was way too much comic relief to list. The best was a bookish 18 year-old Ostrava girl who provoked looks from the panel that screamed, “I am NOT getting paid enough to do this!” She was told that, in order to find an audience for her voice, she should try another planet. Hopefully whoever takes the booby prize this year will be more like William Hung as opposed to that miserable Dajdou girl.
A lot of the singing blew me away, and just as much made me cringe. I respect anyone who makes such an effort, though. Performing to an audience can be a terrifying experience. When it’s working it’s an incredible high. When it’s not you just want to sink beneath the spotlight. Performing to four people who can make your dreams come true as easily and swiftly as they can they can tear them apart, chew them up and spit them in your face strikes me as being even more terrifying.
Watching all that unfold, especially as the stakes are raised, is great drama and good TV.
Jan 16, 22:58 (Filed under: Culture )
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