John Doyle Is Stupid

John has been watching way too much television.
Generally, when we say that about someone, we’re trying to convey that they’re gullible. They believe everything they see.
In John Doyle’s case it’s the opposite. He believes nothing.
No one is going to fool the intellectual television writer for The Globe.
He can see past the charade, expose the fakery for what it is.

He looks down his nose at anyone who was thrilled and taken in by Susan Boyle and her incredible performance on Britain’s Got Talent.
We’re all hypocrites in his eyes, and stupid to fall for another one of Simon Cowell’s tricks.
Everything in the universe is superficial and phony.
Except of course John Doyle’s opinion and insight.

– it’s possible we have been expertly manipulated
– There is something far too slick and staged about the clip
– The idea that Cowell was completely taken aback by Boyle’s voice is simply too far-fetched.
– it is entirely plausible that Cowell and his cohorts deliberately set out …
– it’s perfectly possible that she is a phenomenon foisted upon us.
– We’ve probably been hoodwinked into this
.

Over and over again, he can’t quite come out and say it in so many words.
He’s suspicious, but has nothing to go on.
It just seems too good to be true.

But it is indeed true.
Susan Boyle is the real thing, and what took place that night was a genuine surprise, and it was thrilling.
For once, television captured an authentic moment not related to news or home videos. The intensity of the emotion in the hall explodes on the screen, and everyone watching is blown away.

I’ve watched or heard the clip nearly a hundred times. It loops in the background as I write a post for Tea Makers.
And I’m not ashamed to confess that tears are streaming every damn time. I feel like Pavlov’s dog, it’s simply so automatic and uncontrollable.
And I too was curious about how television was able to capture that moment so well.

There are some things you need to know.
The people who audition for Britain’s Got Talent are nothing like the gell-haired moppets that dominate the Idol shows. There are dancers and jugglers and magic acts and pet tricks, and in his homeland Simon Cowell is respected and loved, as you saw from Susan herself.
The show is in its third season, and is a tight package of hilarious idiocy that reminds one of the old Gong Show. But you are always tipped off that something unique is about to happen with one of the contestants. The two stage handlers who double as M.C.’s will focus in on someone, provide some biographical background, sometimes a still shot from a family album, and then it’s out on to the stage.

The show is edited, and not broadcast live.
That’s what I found especially amazing about the few minutes spent with Susan Boyle.
The visuals were fast, and they seemed to capture everything that was going on so perfectly.
How could anyone in the Control Room be so good at knowing exactly where and when to take a picture, of the audience, of Susan, of the judges? Bang, bang, bang. The director seems to be everywhere at once and almost seems to anticipate where the next great moment would be. I’ve never seen a better series of cuts.
Even the interruptions by the two genial hosts are timed perfectly with the music.
How can it be so good?
Because it’s taped and edited of course.
As an example, not that you need it, I’ll direct your attention to the arc of Susan’s left arm as the scene shifts from front to backstage.
Watch closely as her arm swings down.

Another favorite moment, and there are many, is that fleeting instant, ten seconds into this clip, where you see the girl in the white sweatshirt captured in that rare moment of having her heart in her throat as she exhales. A split-second you almost never see.

So many things were right about that moment, and the entire story as it unfolded.
The chosen song itself could not be more powerful or more appropriate.
Susan delivers it as if she’d been on Broadway for twenty years. Masterful, and nearly perfect.

Doyle wants to cheapen the moment, holding it up as an example of our unfounded faith in humanity. To the extent that you were stunned by her talent is the extent to which you are a hypocrite.
But it is those who are without faith who are truly irrational and illogical.
To look at the world and fail to see the beauty and hope that infuses all of reality is to be just plain dumb.
John fancies himself to be the little boy yelling the Emperor has no clothes!, when in fact he’s actually the same as a couple of characters from a different children’s story. Much more like both the Scarecrow, without a brain, and the Tin Woodman, without a heart.

7 Comments

  • Anonymous says:

    I can’t afford coffee. Anymore.

    Sigh.

  • Anonymous says:

    …. as said by an expert in being fake.

  • Allan says:

    Fake Ouimet meet fake comment @0947

  • Fake Ouimet says:

    Anonymoose at 0947, want to go for coffee? (A serious offer.)

  • Anonymous says:

    This has what to do with CBC?

    Hey, I got laid off last week.

    I actually work at the Corp.

    Come visit my reality show.

    I guarantee it is very very real. . .

  • Anonymous says:

    It’s a TV show. Get over it.

    If you think that was the first time Simon Cowell — the creator of the TV show you’re watching, mind you — heard this woman sing, I have a beach-front bridge in Flin Flon for ya.

    Only the truly awful and the truly talented make it to air on that show. The suckers here are the journalists who wrote about this is if it actually happened as it unfolded in that clip.

    Remember 2000 when newspapers wrote about the results of Survivor as if it were news? Yeah.

  • Anonymous says:

    Doyle – and you – are naive in the extreme to think that reality TV is in any way real.

    It’s like thinking the people on “Survivor” are actually trapped on an island and really have to eats rats to survive.

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