Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, behold the losing end of an Emmy-Awards-prediction bet. Because the wonderful Michael over at the Pop Goes The Culture blog lost out and clearly knows nothing about television (thank you, “Game Change!”), he was forced to sit through Katy Perry’s fabulous failure, “Part Of Me.” The real loser in all this, of course, is me, because I had to hijack my Netflix account in order to rent him the movie, thus providing me with that one eyesore in the “Previously Viewed” portion of my personal Netflix web profile. In any case, below are the fine words of Mr. Michael Hunley as he reacts to spending 90 minutes with Ms. Katy Perry. Because yes, the Emmys DO matter …
As a result of tragically losing the Emmy Awards-prediction competition between Colin and myself, I was made to endure the recent documentary of my arch-nemesis, Katy Perry. It was 90 minutes of her performing during her California Dreams world tour, as well as snippets of backstage drama and a history of her life, starting from her humble beginnings as a young gospel singer.
And it was terrible.
So as not to be completely negative and full of snarky venom, I will say that, after watching the film, it’s obvious that her fans are EXTREMELY devoted to her. She means a lot to them, and a lot of teen fans attest to finding inspiration and motivation through her songs. And far be it from me to take that away from anyone with a silly, clearly biased critique of a behind-the-scenes look at a music superstar.
But I am not a fan, as you’ve probably gathered — I think she’s a generic pop singer who’s too reliant on Autotune and lazy songwriting. I can’t get too excited about her or her songs because I think she’s a product of the commercial music industry’s patented Hit Pop Star Formula: Take a pretty young female with passable singing skills, hook her up with a producer who’s known for making catchy radio hits (in this case, Dr. Luke), steal the image of past successful artists (here, it’s mid-80s Cyndi Lauper and early-90s Lisa Frank Trapper Keepers) and release her unto the world.
And the movie did nothing to make me think otherwise. Not only that, but Perry herself comes across as rather vapid and self-obsessed: During a meet-and-greet with a young fan, she asks him how old he thinks she is and what his favorite song happens to be. This is all juxtaposed, of course, with what, at times, feels like a Katy Perry propaganda film — testimonials from her friends, family and managers, who talk endlessly about how hard-working and devoted and amazing and special and inspirational and just flawless she is. I was waiting for one of them to say, “You know, she DID die for your sins, so … .”
Thusly, the moral of the story from all of this: Never get in an Emmy Awards-prediction contest with Colin McGuire, because you will lose, and the consequences will be terrible.