The producers of Idols South Africa have let Mara Louw go after three seasons of racist slur, violent outbursts, faux couture and drunken shenanigans.
Boy, that was fun. She was our Paula Abdul. The drunk. The single judge who could always be counted on to do something unscripted and rash at around the 40 minute mark of every episode.
If we’re honest with ourselves deep down in the pit of our livers, we’ll concede that we never watched the South African installment of Idols for the music, if at all.
After we achieved a modicum of respectability on the vocal front with Heinz “Blue Jeans ‘n Boots” Winkler, we stopped sucking in our stomach, so to speak, and we’ve been delivering a sloppy mass of gut to the nation in every subsequent season.
So we turned to the judges – they became the de facto stars of the show. They were biopic characters appearing on our screens and in our minds every week, whose parts were broken into soundbyte shards and spread across episodes, all apart, yet somehow inexorably linked to a similar, terrible fate: another season.
But the keystone in that narrative steps out with Mara.
Gareth is fun, sure, but now that we’re acclimatized to his dry humour and tar-tinted lenses, is there anything left to talk about? Randall Abrahams?
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Woah! I drifted off there.
Back to the point: conversation. That’s what these shows are for, surely? They give us conversational fodder for the office, the braai, the gym, the weekly masons meeting – that sort of thing.
And that’s what I’m concerned about.
Mara is gone (not fired, I’ll have you know – she would have needed to have had an actual contract with Mnet to be fired), and with her the boozy exploits, the face-palmingly embarrassing quips, the fake Louis Vitton jackets. And in her stead is a relatively unknown, but by all accounts thoroughly decent human being, Unathi Msengena.
If Idols were serious about replacing Mara, rather than merely filling a vacancy, they would have stopped at nothing short of one Steve Hofmeyr, who is also highly skilled in the art of confidently speaking in public without his ideas-filter on. Hofmeyr, while not widely renowned for his public drinking habits, is an addict of a different kind. And with more progeny than Abraham, one can only assume that his addiction is hard to bear.
With that said, Steven Hofmeyr is a ruddy pink at the best of times, and his presence on the far right of the judges’ table would merely serve to upset the global Pop Idols franchise judge demographic policy, which requires at least three different flesh tones. If you can get more than three tones out of three people, you’ve nailed best practice.
I’m sorry, Unathi, but if you’re going to be respectful, considerate, kind, and constructively critical of the talent (I use the word liberally) before you, then we simply do not want you.
You must understand – the only way we can face up to the mediocre production value of our television in this country is to blame the people who make it. Don’t make us take a look in the mirror, Unathi. You’ve got to be loud. You’ve got to be belligerent and drunk. Don’t make us ask that hard question.
Don’t force us on to that conversation amongst friends.
You know which one, Unathi.
Where the hell are all the stars hiding in this country?
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