I shouldn't even be writing about this. Any "ceremony" that picks and chooses a "best person" in a "category" is bound to send me frothing at the mouth.
So I'll get right to the point. Channel 2 TV's People of the Year broadcast. I couldn't watch more than two seconds here, two seconds there.
The one scene I did watch (until I couldn't bear it any longer) was the Truman Showesque squeezing of an emotional lemon: A (genuinely) nice man from the north, who came in to wish his fellow northeners a better year than the one just ending. So far so good. After a short greeting he was to play a song with Svika Pick - man to man, piano against piano.
So far so good.
The man's words (I'm sorry, I didn't catch his name) were genuine. The blitz of glitz did nothing to wash away his anguish and hopes for better days, not only in Israel but also for our northern neighbours, the Lebanese. He did not yearn for victory, but for PEACE! And then, as he was to add just a single unplanned sentence before the musical number, he was cut short abruptly by one of the hosts.
How can the producers of the show claim to have compassion after this brief duele? As the man would not give up, asking for one more sentence, and the steel-cold press of the televised evening just pushing him under. On to the musical number.
Prime Time TV. The big bucks, the big wheels of media, power and glitz. The famous Maestro (aka Svika Pick) walks on stage for the duet with anonymous northener and sits by the black grand piano.
Camera back on our man from the north. Is he seated next to another grand? Baby grand? Oh no, our member of the lower classes (i.e. without the right friends in the right places) is seated at an upright piano, such as to be found in countless homes of amateur musicians. He cannot see the man who is supposedly singing in his honour. He cannot play a duet, but he CAN duly accompany, his vision obstructed, his playing subservient, even subdued.
If anyone needed more proof that commercial TV is nothing more than an empty, shameful shell.
So I'll get right to the point. Channel 2 TV's People of the Year broadcast. I couldn't watch more than two seconds here, two seconds there.
The one scene I did watch (until I couldn't bear it any longer) was the Truman Showesque squeezing of an emotional lemon: A (genuinely) nice man from the north, who came in to wish his fellow northeners a better year than the one just ending. So far so good. After a short greeting he was to play a song with Svika Pick - man to man, piano against piano.
So far so good.
The man's words (I'm sorry, I didn't catch his name) were genuine. The blitz of glitz did nothing to wash away his anguish and hopes for better days, not only in Israel but also for our northern neighbours, the Lebanese. He did not yearn for victory, but for PEACE! And then, as he was to add just a single unplanned sentence before the musical number, he was cut short abruptly by one of the hosts.
How can the producers of the show claim to have compassion after this brief duele? As the man would not give up, asking for one more sentence, and the steel-cold press of the televised evening just pushing him under. On to the musical number.
Prime Time TV. The big bucks, the big wheels of media, power and glitz. The famous Maestro (aka Svika Pick) walks on stage for the duet with anonymous northener and sits by the black grand piano.
Camera back on our man from the north. Is he seated next to another grand? Baby grand? Oh no, our member of the lower classes (i.e. without the right friends in the right places) is seated at an upright piano, such as to be found in countless homes of amateur musicians. He cannot see the man who is supposedly singing in his honour. He cannot play a duet, but he CAN duly accompany, his vision obstructed, his playing subservient, even subdued.
If anyone needed more proof that commercial TV is nothing more than an empty, shameful shell.
posted by Orr at 11:09 pm
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