Hung by the Gil(s)

If I have to watch the William Hung video one more time, God help me, I’ll put my foot through the TV screen, or make the plasma screen bleed! I really believe the most insidious form of contemporary mental torture would be to make a loop of the video, staple the eyes of some victim wide open and force feed him the "sight and sounds of William Hung" for over 24 hours. Actually, an hour is more than enough. If even the US has joined the "hype" bandwagon of celebrating mediocrity and no-talent, what next? As a novelty video or CD single, I’m not going to begrudge William for taking the money and making fools of all of us. Fine. We thought we had our little laugh at your expense, William. And looks like the final laugh is now on us!

This always was the potential fallout of the popularity of a show like American Idol. Amateurs and so-so talents trooping to an audition that if they passed, would guarantee instant recognition and more than "15 minutes of fame." And all this, while legitimate musicians and singers who have honed their craft over the years can’t even get a recording contract or a shot on TV. This was literally Every Man’s Dream and Every One Else’s Festering Nightmare. Norah Jones may seem to have shot out of nowhere two years ago, but in fact, she spent years doing the rounds of Village pubs and speakeasys in New York. She was a featured vocalist in several jazz-tinged bands before given the chance to set up her own band with its blues and country-influenced jazz music.

Yet global winners of American Idol formats like Will Young, Kelly Clarkson, Erik Santos (Philippines), Clay Aiken and Reuben Studdard find themselves catapulted from outright obscurity to national prominence in their respective countries. Is that fair? Who cares? As long as the market is out there, ready to lap up and take to its bosom any singing hero that’s thrust down its collective throat, who are we to blame the recording companies for signing them up and promoting them to death?

The phenomenon has a manufactured feel to it. But how different is that from putting together boy bands like Backstreet Boys and N’Sync in jigsaw puzzle fashion? What I found funny was how a reject like William Hung could actually inspire America to say "Yes, you have no real talent, but so what? Sign on the dotted line." William may be a great engineer or molecular biologist one day, but singer or dancer he definitely is not. And yet, I see posters of his CD in various offices, and God forbid, is a second video actually in the works? And will there still be any interest?

The tradition of the novelty song is not new. It abounds in America just as much as it does here. Parokya’s Mr. Suave and Bayani’s Ocho-Ocho are direct descendants of Yoyoy Villame’s songs from the ’70s and ’80s (Magellan and the mock-Chinese song). The novelty artist (in whose category William Hung falls into) is a different animal. He’s more like a Tiny Tim (him of the toneless falsetto voice in the ’70s), a genuine no-talent given a break because for some reason, the public has taken to him. The question is why? If it’s gentle ridicule and amusement at the chutzpah of the guy for thinking he can perform, sing, or dance, then yes, one can understand why the hype and publicity works for a Hollywood moment. It would be deliciously ironic if Fantasia, the winner of the current American Idol season, would record a single and sink into oblivion and William would emerge as the more potent reminder of what this season signified.

In similar fashion, we now have ex-presidential candidate Eddie Gil hogging the airwaves and making the rounds of TV guestings. Never mind the TV sitcoms he invades with surprising aplomb, but he is also a bonafide recording star with a CD to his name. I caught his guesting on Morning Girls and the man couldn’t even lipsynch to the song he recorded. Serious! His lips were immobile while the single was being played, he’d jump in only on the chorus; and I’m there thinking, "So this is the future of our recording industry?" And as for his stage demeanor? Even his hairpiece had more motion and movement. And given it seems to have been styled by Rizal Cement, you know that’s saying a lot!

Sheesh! No matter which side of the Pacific Ocean you’re looking at, it seems the formula nowadays is pretty clear. I have no capacity to carry a tune, remember lyrics, or move in time to the song you’re barely singing, and presto! A star is born, recording contract ready for you to sign.

Where is Christine Jacob (Sandejas) when we need her? At least she knew it was all in jest.