I’ve managed to avoid watching all but a few scattered minutes of American Idol (despite serving as one of the judges at the Monty Python Society’s recent parody of the show), and what I’ve seen hasn’t given me any reason to think I’ve missed out. Nevertheless, I found myself reading this article, possibly because criticism of reality shows is the only thing I find marginally interesting about the genre. I think Gross sums up the (one hopes short-lived) phenomenon well when he writes:
American Idol eliminates the element of mystery from stardom, with its message that a star is not a special person with secret passions but a piece of equipment that can be melted down and reconfigured whenever the powers that be think of a new way to sell soft drinks.
I was also amused by an observation made by one of his fellow season finale attendees: “It’s not as intimate in person. You’re a little more removed from it here.”
I can’t imagine being far enough removed from American Idol, but maybe that’s just me.