Whether one enjoys American Idol or not, it is a high energy, high velocity, high volume exercise with ratings credentials to match. With 30+ million viewers in its wake, it is an incredible springboard for any new programming event that the Fox Network chooses to showcase. On Tuesday evening, all of the media and promotional planets were aligned to introduce On the Lot, the new reality show purported to identify the Next Big Hollywood Director through reality show attrition.
I'm not a big fan of these reality adventures. I watched the original Survivor with interest. But every similar effort in its wake (and there have been plenty) has seemed to walk the same path, in the same stale footprints. Now, use of the term "voted off" stimulates some frantic channel surfing to separate myself from THAT reality.
Still, the promo spots for On the Lot seemed intriguing. One doesn't often see flying saucers over the East River. Perfect timing! We're all currently immersed in an avalanche of "mini-movies" from YouTube and MySpace, and dozens of other mega-hit web sites. Our obsession with all things video has revealed some genuine, if in-the-raw talent. This viewer mind-set and a forum such as OTL should be fertile ground, an opportunity for would-be directors to excel and viewers to enjoy their challenges. Plus, the Spielberg/Amblin name on the marquee usually suggests a quality product.
Unfortunately, an hour of YouTube's best would have been sensational compared to this lot. Because, in reality, On the Lot should have been called On the Feed Lot. It smelled terrible! Take all of the worst attributes of Survivor, American Idol, and The Apprentice, mix in Inside the Actor's Studio and Dog Eat Dog and you'll have the ingredients for this misdirected melange that managed to be, at once, too cerebral, too adolescent, too devoid of any compelling video or film to please anyone.
With all of opening clichés out of the way (the only reality was bits and pieces of the Universal Studio Tour) we settled down to watch a series of pitch presentations by increasingly inept wannabes. Shades of the American Idol auditions but (unless you have a sadistic streak) with no entertainment value at all.
Three judges, of course, with one female but lacking the good, the bad, and the ugly that sparks the process when AI's no talent shills are sent packing. I must say, Marshall, and Ratner are talented directors and Fisher is a fine author and a pretty good actor, though she will always be Princess Leia to Star Wars fans. The people who designed my car did a fine job too but that doesn't mean I want to see them on TV telling neophytes in the auto business where to install the fuel injectors.
After a quick ejection of 14 for whom Andy's 15 minutes of fame fled too quickly, the remaining candidates arranged themselves in groups of three and were given their first movie assignments with actual cameras and actors. The final quarter hour of the show vacillated between Survivor beach scene angst, midnight hour confrontations ala Apprentice, and kindergarten playgrounds on no-nap afternoons. After a few minutes of personality conflicts, glowering, and shouts of "You're blocking my shot!" only white knuckles kept me from abandoning this ship of fools.
How can people who have created such stunning successes miss the mark so badly? I suspect that by the half hour break, at least 80 percent of those AI viewers were gone and, by the end, maybe 10 percent had lingered. Worse news: most will never be back. One magnificent opportunity, wasted.
For those of us with film and television experience, curiosity couldn't keep us away. For everyone else, the question had to be the same"Where's the entertainment?!!"
I'm not a big fan of these reality adventures. I watched the original Survivor with interest. But every similar effort in its wake (and there have been plenty) has seemed to walk the same path, in the same stale footprints. Now, use of the term "voted off" stimulates some frantic channel surfing to separate myself from THAT reality.
Still, the promo spots for On the Lot seemed intriguing. One doesn't often see flying saucers over the East River. Perfect timing! We're all currently immersed in an avalanche of "mini-movies" from YouTube and MySpace, and dozens of other mega-hit web sites. Our obsession with all things video has revealed some genuine, if in-the-raw talent. This viewer mind-set and a forum such as OTL should be fertile ground, an opportunity for would-be directors to excel and viewers to enjoy their challenges. Plus, the Spielberg/Amblin name on the marquee usually suggests a quality product.
Unfortunately, an hour of YouTube's best would have been sensational compared to this lot. Because, in reality, On the Lot should have been called On the Feed Lot. It smelled terrible! Take all of the worst attributes of Survivor, American Idol, and The Apprentice, mix in Inside the Actor's Studio and Dog Eat Dog and you'll have the ingredients for this misdirected melange that managed to be, at once, too cerebral, too adolescent, too devoid of any compelling video or film to please anyone.
With all of opening clichés out of the way (the only reality was bits and pieces of the Universal Studio Tour) we settled down to watch a series of pitch presentations by increasingly inept wannabes. Shades of the American Idol auditions but (unless you have a sadistic streak) with no entertainment value at all.
Three judges, of course, with one female but lacking the good, the bad, and the ugly that sparks the process when AI's no talent shills are sent packing. I must say, Marshall, and Ratner are talented directors and Fisher is a fine author and a pretty good actor, though she will always be Princess Leia to Star Wars fans. The people who designed my car did a fine job too but that doesn't mean I want to see them on TV telling neophytes in the auto business where to install the fuel injectors.
After a quick ejection of 14 for whom Andy's 15 minutes of fame fled too quickly, the remaining candidates arranged themselves in groups of three and were given their first movie assignments with actual cameras and actors. The final quarter hour of the show vacillated between Survivor beach scene angst, midnight hour confrontations ala Apprentice, and kindergarten playgrounds on no-nap afternoons. After a few minutes of personality conflicts, glowering, and shouts of "You're blocking my shot!" only white knuckles kept me from abandoning this ship of fools.
How can people who have created such stunning successes miss the mark so badly? I suspect that by the half hour break, at least 80 percent of those AI viewers were gone and, by the end, maybe 10 percent had lingered. Worse news: most will never be back. One magnificent opportunity, wasted.
For those of us with film and television experience, curiosity couldn't keep us away. For everyone else, the question had to be the same"Where's the entertainment?!!"