Straight Up ~ A Review (Plus Other Things I Wanted to Get Off My Chest) of the Reality Show 'Hey, Paula'

What drew me into the show was that it was something to turn on for background noise while I did other things, what drew me into really watching the show was Abdul’s confession of insomnia in the first episode.  I admit, I felt for her in that regard because there have been spans of my life where I suffered from a great deal of insomnia, most of it tied to my bouts of severe asthma.

During spells of prolonged insomnia I was robbed of my mental facilities, I easily lost my train of thought (simple jokes just didn’t make sense and I would stare as if I was a ‘Precious Moments’ figurine at the teller) and I had absolutely no energy.  Those were the days that when I could I would block twelve hours out to sleep, of which I would be lucky to get four hours of solid slumber.  It felt as if I were grabbing fistfuls of sand (i.e., the Sandman) that I had to hold onto for the rest of the day.  I would live for the weekends because it meant I could sleep without a set schedule.  BTW, I’m doing much better with both the asthma and insomnia and it has been years since I have felt that disconnected from the world due to sleep deprivation.

Perhaps this explains why I was willing to give Paula a break for all of her loopy behavior, but I have since changed my original stance.  ‘Hey Paula’ which is on the  ‘Bravo’ network, follows Paula Abdul around as she exploits her position as the ‘nice’ judge on ‘American Idol.’  Whereas most reality TV involving ‘stars’ tend to focus on those personalities who are no longer A list (if indeed they were ever in that position) Paula Abdul is in a totally different place.  Her career is in renaissance mode.  Although she most likely will not be recording anything new (during the ‘Milli Vanilli’ scandal her name came up as a performer who had other singers dubbing their voices as hers on CDs) objectively, she is in a good place as far as an entertainer who has not had a hit record in fifteen years.  Besides, she was always known more as a dancer who could sing, than a singer who could dance – a more wholesome version of Madonna.  Unlike Madonna however, there was always something a bit off about Abdul, as if she wasn’t quite there, a Lucy with diamonds in search of a sky.

Yet, the way she marketed herself back in her heyday seemed brilliant.  Some of you may remember a cola commercial in which she danced with Gene Kelly in his silver screen prime.  The first year Billy Crystal hosted the Academy Awards she choreographed the dance numbers.  For a year or so, she seemed to be everywhere and then she wasn’t.  Another causality of someone whose identity is seared into pop culture memory, thus not forgotten, but was no longer wanted.  Unlike the before mentioned Madonna, Paula did not morph into another incarnation; she remained the same Paula waiting for American to recognize her again.

America did discover Paula Abdul again, when ‘American Idol’ shot to the top and took her along for the ride.  She played good cop to Simon Cowell’s bad one.  Always offering words of encouragement to earnest contestants, Simon the biting Brit, told would be singers the truth, except in harsher terms for entertainment value.

One of the things I do like about well-done reality programming, if the contest itself is an honorable one, such as ‘Project Runway’ or ‘Top Chef,’ it doesn’t really matter if a contestant wins, as long as they represented themselves with dignity and demonstrate that they have talent.  I imagine the consideration for a celebrity to say ‘yes’ to doing a show would be their confidence to entertain even in moments that aren’t normally entertaining.  I’m sure many see their participation as an investment for bigger projects.  For example, if someone told me one day I would consider myself a fan of Kathy Griffin (especially during her days on that sh*tcom, ‘Suddenly Susan’) a good eye poking would be the result.  Now I want her to perform in Kansas City and so I can go with a bunch of friends (P.S., if Kathy Griffin reads this, comp tickets would be wonderful and I would guarantee a great write up!).  In comparison to Kathy, Paula just doesn’t have the chops to be entertaining in her day to day life due to her lack of wit and self delusion which manifests itself into self-destruction.

As mentioned earlier, I know how insomnia can make one appear either dull or jumpy, but what it cannot do is make you act crazy as if you are an attention-deprived child of five.  I think Abdul crossed the line for anyone to ever take her seriously again when she was touring a perfumery that was assigned to develop an Abdul inspired scent (I opt for dog slobber combined with used Kleenex as Abdul’s signature smell).  How old is this woman?  Why was she hunched on the floor as if imprisoned by a gang of invisible gnomes as she snorts and giggles…during a business meeting no less?  Does she not even have the common sense to know that just because the cameras are rolling, and people are working in lab coats, that it doesn’t give her the right to treat them as if they are cotton stuffed bears that can be won at a carnival?  When her PR guru said he thought the meeting went well I thought, ‘Nice way to damn your own career buddy!’

That’s the other thing, and it lends itself to issues outside of fading stars and their reality shows, it’s the Greek Chorus of sycophants.  From Michael Jackson to George Bush Jr. and beyond, I have decided that by surrounding yourself with people who always tell you what you want to hear, you damn youself to a plague worse than the bubonic one that once killed off a fourth of Europe’s population.  For Jackson these choir members stood by him as he mangled his face and had questionable overnight visits with children.  For Bush, well, the list is too long.

When Elvis died many blamed his Memphis Mafia, but the truth is that it isn’t the sycophants’ fault, it is the one who surrounds themselves with them - often insecure in their own ability to be confronted with the word no.  Too many sycophants find themselves on the payroll.  Thus, working for a boss who doesn’t comprehend the two letter ‘n word’ could mean a mortgage won’t be paid.

Because celebrities are so visible, it is easy to spot their posse trailing behind them, but let’s not forget that this situation can infect every profession and social group.  Yet, I doubt no one can sink to the level of self-pity the way an American celebrity can.  In the case of Paula, she was filmed boo-hoo-hooing in full caked on makeup about how it wasn’t fair that the media was coming down on her after a disastrous turn on local morning shows (she did forty interviews with various Fox affiliates and appeared less than sober).  While she assigns her team damage control, while uttering about fairness and her reputation, she takes no responsibility for her actions and even lashes out at one of her representatives.  She can repeat that she was tired, she can claim she had the flu, and she can confess that she doesn’t use illegal drugs, but her behavior was not normal and pretending that it was something else, is an example of what denial looks like close up.

Would I recommend ‘Hey, Paula’ for viewer consumption?  No.  It is narcissism television at its worst.  Abdul isn’t even likeable, which is an odd discovery about the ‘good judge’ of ‘American Idol.’  I’m drawn to an encompassing conclusion that although people may talk a good game about bullies, often people are labeled ‘bullies’ because it works for the agenda of professional victims.  From what little I have seen of ‘American Idol,’ Simon seems to have some rough edges, yet I find his honesty is a better tonic than false flattery.

With that said, Paula Abdul will be falling, slurring, and crying on cable this summer on Thursdays, check local listings for time.

I wanted to write a few words about the image above.  It comes from a website that is A MUST VIEW for anyone remotely interested in pop culture.  14, that is what her bio lists her as, never fails to amuse and a lot of the time she simply amazes me about her astute observations of human behavior as filtered through the ridiculous world of celebrity.  14 is the Dorothy Parker of illustrators and if you want a place that provides a quick laugh to your otherwise dull day save her ‘Gallery of the Absurd’ website as a favorite.  http://galleryoftheabsurd.typepad.com/14/ 

© 2007 Westerfield