I just have to put in a shameless reality t.v.-related plug here: I loved the Victoria Beckham reality show! I just watched it (NBC has it for free online here) and it was perfect! I'm heartbroken there isn't more. I already adore Posh for her terrifically weird fashion sense (cf this glorious marvel), but now I love her even more for her appreciation of the reality genre. The critics are wrong -- she played exactly correctly for the format. She's the right mix of daft, slyly parodic, heartfelt, bitchy, and unplanned. I truly love her. She may be my new favorite celebrity.
It is a shame NBC decided there wasn't enough material for a whole show -- and a shame that more people didn't watch it. I suspect the fault in the latter lies in a lack of marketing -- I hadn't even really known about it, and I keep up pretty well with both celebrity and reality t.v. news. And as for the former? I actually think that Victoria Beckham is probably too nice to provide the kind of sacrificial figure (like Paris, of course) producers were looking for. She actually seems like someone it would be genuinely fun to hang out with -- and that doesn't make for a show like The Simple Life.
And it doesn't, actually tally with what it seems like reviewers thought of the show. A number of the critics (notably, I think, the New York Times, whose sort of thing this really is not) seem to have expected to hate Posh Spice, and found what they wanted. Though several reviewers (see this apt summary for examples) seem to think Beckham's jokes fall flat, I suspect their mistake is in thinking that the satire is leveled at, say, "celebrity" or "blonde semi-starlets." In fact, Simon Fuller (known over here, of course, primarily for American Idol) and Beckham are largely playing on the self-satire inherent to the best of reality television. This is a satire, not of Beckham herself, or of starlets, or of People Who Are Famous for Nothing (not, I will point out, quite true in either Beckham's case), but of the genre of Celebrity Reality Shows. And as such, I think it really, really works!
The scene where the paparazzi (and surely not all of them were actually fooled) meet Posh's supposed "double" -- a sex-shop inflatable doll dressed in her clothing and bewigged -- is emblematic. The photographers, when confronted with the deception, grin and laugh lovingly: Posh has played the game of her own celebrity perfectly, substituting a wildly overplayed plastic doll for a real person, but letting everyone know, with a wink, what she's done.
How could I not love this woman? If NBC wants to do any more programming with her, I'll watch it, as best I can! And in the meantime, I'm converted to fandom of both her and her husband. (Though I liked them already.) And that serves everybody well, doesn't it? This, you see, is the most pleasant and positive side of the culture of celebrity: in the end, everybody ends up happy! Major!
It is a shame NBC decided there wasn't enough material for a whole show -- and a shame that more people didn't watch it. I suspect the fault in the latter lies in a lack of marketing -- I hadn't even really known about it, and I keep up pretty well with both celebrity and reality t.v. news. And as for the former? I actually think that Victoria Beckham is probably too nice to provide the kind of sacrificial figure (like Paris, of course) producers were looking for. She actually seems like someone it would be genuinely fun to hang out with -- and that doesn't make for a show like The Simple Life.
And it doesn't, actually tally with what it seems like reviewers thought of the show. A number of the critics (notably, I think, the New York Times, whose sort of thing this really is not) seem to have expected to hate Posh Spice, and found what they wanted. Though several reviewers (see this apt summary for examples) seem to think Beckham's jokes fall flat, I suspect their mistake is in thinking that the satire is leveled at, say, "celebrity" or "blonde semi-starlets." In fact, Simon Fuller (known over here, of course, primarily for American Idol) and Beckham are largely playing on the self-satire inherent to the best of reality television. This is a satire, not of Beckham herself, or of starlets, or of People Who Are Famous for Nothing (not, I will point out, quite true in either Beckham's case), but of the genre of Celebrity Reality Shows. And as such, I think it really, really works!
The scene where the paparazzi (and surely not all of them were actually fooled) meet Posh's supposed "double" -- a sex-shop inflatable doll dressed in her clothing and bewigged -- is emblematic. The photographers, when confronted with the deception, grin and laugh lovingly: Posh has played the game of her own celebrity perfectly, substituting a wildly overplayed plastic doll for a real person, but letting everyone know, with a wink, what she's done.
How could I not love this woman? If NBC wants to do any more programming with her, I'll watch it, as best I can! And in the meantime, I'm converted to fandom of both her and her husband. (Though I liked them already.) And that serves everybody well, doesn't it? This, you see, is the most pleasant and positive side of the culture of celebrity: in the end, everybody ends up happy! Major!
Labels: representation, reviews, spirit of the age, tv
I think the problem with her show was that she isn't a mess. We're all used to crackers on Cops, Anna Nicole on shrooms, Paula Abdul on downers, and Lindsay Lohan's freckled va-jay-jay on crack. We crave Schadenfreude, and Posh is too put together to deliver! Nevertheless, IMO Posh is hot in a mayjah way, despite the unusual plastic barbie boobage. --Rivka
Where the hell have you disappeared to?
-W