Book Trailer For Madam President

Monday, August 29, 2011

Maybe the MTV Awards Need A Host

Once upon a time there was spaceman who jumped around on the moon to MTV rock. There followed rock videos. Amazing. Then MTV went corporate and became the self appointed holder of all that is edgy and young and happening and jaw dropping and just about anything that defined who was it. Fast forward to the MTV Music Video Awards and you pretty  much want to crawl under your couch. The fatuous mega-self absorbed culture has resembled a bunch of spoiled brats at a party with too much cake and ice cream for years. But they just cant see to wait to get even more in your face with each passing year.  And this year they didn't even have a host because a host is old school man.

So it was do it yourself night.

Lady GaGa came out as Fonzie or maybe the Karate Kid. She really looked like him. Rocking first tune where she fell down and and then sneered and talked about touching herself listening to Britney Speers. Yawn. Then she almost kissed Britney. Double yawn. Then she told everyone it was Ok to be gay straight, lesbian, homosexual, drag, transgender, whatever. Because you are born that way. Triple yawn. Then she went back to sneering. Kanye came on with Jay Z and you really had to wonder if they were going to catch on fire from the pyrotechnics and pull a Michael Jackson with flaming hair. No one could understand a word of their song that was bleeped out every other word.

Then we cut to the strangest moment of the night. The filler entertainment for the ten minutes of comercials that pushed every MTV product under the sun.  Some lady sitting in a big white chair like a Queen gone bad with a cast on her leg surrounded by white monitors. She looked like Anis Nin and sang through the night like an updated Tonight Show Band. It was just weird. Then we come back to Justin Beiber accepting his award  looking even more like a new version of David Cassidy of the Partridge family with his glasses and short hair. Opie comes to mind. Or Donnie Osmond. But whatever publicist got hold of him should be fired, because he literally looked like he was twelve years old accepting his first Spelling Bee award.

Then came all the rappers with their pants even lower looking more ghetto more gansta. Jack Black came out with the Beastie Boys and tired to do a monologue but it just fell flat. As did the Beastie Boys. Then the worst moment was the Amy Winehouse tribute with the London fop Russell Brand detangling himself from Katy Perry long enough to get Amy Winehouse turning over in her grave. He underscored the problem for the MTV moment in technicolor. The minute they veered from trying to be outlandish--which usually came across as a bunch of frat guys mooning everyone at the movies-- they fell flat. The pathos and bathos screamed out as Mr. London tried to conjure up Amy for the self conscious audience.

The only moment where Amy seemed to come alive was singing with Tony Bennett and they cut that tape so badly we just had  a glimpse. Then back to the London goofball who then went back to Katy Perry who could not keep her mouth shut when she received her award with Kanye and tried to out hip Kanye. Good luck with that. Then the whole embarrassing night just ended. Thank God.

You know what they really needed? One of those guys who kind of lightens up the show and keeps it on track. You know, a guy or gal who could keep them from taking themselves so seriously.  Ah...I know. Starts with an H and ends with a T. A host! They needed a host. Maybe the spaceman who jumped around on the moon in the early years. I'll bet he's not doing anything. They could even play some videos. Now that would be cutting edge.


Books by William Hazelgrove