03.16.07

Fuzhou Foreign Idol (Part 2)

Posted in Me on TV, Random Goofiness at 7:33 pm by Benjamin Ross

continued from Fuzhou Foreign Idol (Part 1)

After days of anticipation, my latest television endeavor kicked off this weekend. Unlike my first TV show in China which was a lackadaisical variety show designed at showcasing goofy foreigners, the new show was a regimented talent show…also showcasing goofy foreigners. The show was called “SuperMe,” aptly named after Hunan Television’s “Super Girls,” which is a clone of the USA’s “American Idol” which was of course was named after the UK’s “Pop Idol.”

The premise was simple. 8 non-Chinese contestants, 3 judges, and a hard drive full of zany sound effects. We would all sing a Chinese pop song, and at the end of the show, one of us would emerge as the “hero” of SuperMe.

The show began as the 8 of us lined up, dancing in a semi-circle (As I mentioned in part 1, in China foreigners on TV always dance). One by one, we each came to the center, taking turns doing our own little dance. I did my personal version of the Macarena, complete with hand motions and hip shaking. After the dance, all eight contestants were ushered into two rows of seats off to the side of the circular main stage.

Me doing the Macarena in front of millions of Chinese viewers

The format was simple and blatantly derivative. One-by-one the contestants would come to the stage and sing. After their performance, each contestant would have a little chat with the Chinese Ryan Seacrest. Then a panel of three judges would give their criticisms and a score from 1 to 10. Like the entire show, the judges were perfect clones of those on American Idol. “Randy” was a younger looking Chinese guy, with a round face, and a knack for constructive criticism. “Paula” was an attractive young lady, who made more comments on our clothes and cuteness than on our singing. And “Simon” was….. Simon, which meant he was a complete prick most of the time because Simon is always honest and….hey…most of us really were pretty pathetic. Between songs, a guy off to the side of the stage with a keyboard and a laptop, added token sound effects every three to four seconds. From bells, to slap bass, to incessant robot sounds, the soundman would not lay off the effects (nor the ritalin apparently) until every single millisecond of potential silence was thwarted by digital cacophony.

the judging panel: that’s “Randy” on the left, “Paula” in the middle, and “Simon” on the right.

“So, contestant x,” booing a ding ding, baaaam. “How do you think you performed?” ring, ring, bangadanga doooooo “Well I thought I did all right.” wooo waa waaaaah. BAAAM…….duh-DUH!. And on and on. I think all of China (Hong Kong and Taiwan included) use the same $5 sound effect CD for producing their television shows, because this obnoxious background flare can be heard on just about any live Chinese TV show.

Whenever a foreigner is on TV in China, there is a high potential for humor, as the outsider’s unfamiliarity with Chinese customs and language, can provide a wealth of laughter for this mostly homogenous nation. This was going to be different, however. I was not going to allow a hideous performance of a Chinese pop song bring entertainment to the masses at my expense. With memories of my shattered childhood dream of being the sixth New Kid on the Block in the back of my mind, I was on a quest. This was my chance to make it in the world of pop music. I was going to give a solid performance and WIN!

To clear a few things up…I am not a good singer. That being said, I can sing Chinese songs much better than most foreigners in China. Let me explain. Like every American who comes to China, I hated karaoke at first…hated it like the plague. There was nothing worse than having to sing a cheesy Chinese pop song in front of a large group of people whose language I couldn’t even speak properly. As a foreigner living in China, by default, you can expect to be invited out to sing karaoke at least once per month. Rather than sulk and complain about how terrible the songs are and how much I hate public singing, I figured that if I was going to be singing karaoke at least once a month, I might as well have some fun with it, and possibly garner myself some face in the process. Thus, unlike most of the other contestants, who were learning a Chinese song for the first time and reading it in pinyin (Chinese Romanization) from teleprompters, I had a song pre-prepared.

Look out Taylor Hicks..Eggroll Patrol is in the house tonite!

The song I chose to sing was called ben pao (click to listen to original) which translates to “run fast.” Of the plethora of horrible Chinese pop songs, ben pao is one of the few which I have found to have a listen-to-able melody and decent lyrics. I had learned it when I had a regular gig playing guitar in a Chinese bar, and have used it as one of my stock songs whenever I want to bring my A-game to the karaoke bar.

I had sung ben pao in public countless times and this was to be my moment to shine. As Ryan and his female assistant explained the structure of the contest to the live audience, I thought to myself about how 24 lucky Americans had fought through fierce auditions and Hollywood Week to accomplish what I was able to achieve simply on account of the fact that I am not Chinese. This was…the one…the only…SuperMe! All I had to do was sing my song in key, and then sit back and wait for the Taylor Hicks comparisons to roll in. After Ryan explained the rules to the live audience, I approached the stage and was handed the microphone. I looked out and saw hundreds of Chinese faces eager to hear the first words come out of my mouth. “What is he going to sing?” “How is it going to sound?”

I’m sure they were all expecting something along the lines of Apu Nahasapeemapetalan singing the Star Spangled Banner. What they probably were not expecting was a foreigner who could actually sing a Chinese song with some degree of respectability.

The studio audience, armed with spirit sticks.

As I approached the stage, the first few soft notes of ben pao played through the PA. The ensuing cheer of the crowd was so loud that I couldn’t hear the music. I hadn’t jumped in the pool yet, but was already gasping for air. I found my rhythm, and kicked off the first verse. The fact that it wasn’t a complete mess brought even more applause from the audience. This built my confidence. I continued singing, as the mellow verse built up to the chorus….”随风奔跑自由是方向”…Not only did I not suck, but I wasn’t half bad either. When I hit the high note of the song, albeit a half-step flat, the crowd cheered even harder. Arms swayed and blow-up spirit sticks banged together with ever-increasing intensity.

After my performance, the two hosts approached me, and a bit surprised at my performance, asked me how long I had been learning the song. Unprepared to give a witty Chinese answer, and too proud to take the whole thing seriously, I answered them “Oh, just a few minutes.” The hosts faked a laugh, and the joke fell flat on its face. That was permissible. I had sung well, and after all, it was a singing competition, right? Now on to the judges.

My Chris Daughtry pose

The show’s dialogue was all Chinese and I couldn’t understand everything coming out of the mouth of Randy, but he did say he liked my singing, and that my tone was accurate. However, he said he was more impressed by my beard than anything else. Staying in character, Paula had nothing of substance to say. She gave praise to my singing, and also mentioned that my beard was “cute.” Next came Simon. This guy was classic. He was in his forties, wore a white sweater with a collar shirt underneath, and as I learned later, was a bona fide Taiwan a one-hit wonder pop star from the early 90’s. In total Simonesque manner, he told me that my singing wasn’t bad but it was “a little too karaoke.” Then the beard comments continued to flow as Simon, followed by the other judges listed-off historical figures with beards whom I apparently resemble, Abraham Lincoln, Sigmund Freud, Karl Marx, etc. As the list grew, I added the inevitable comparison…”What about Osama Bin Laden?” I asked the panel in Chinese. This got the biggest laugh yet out of the crowd. “Ah yes, the American looks just like America’s biggest enemy,” Simon proclaimed. Everybody was having a grand ol’ time.

Now for the results. After considerable chatter between the judges, I was rewarded a 9.3, an 8.7, and an 8.5, not a bad score, but I had no reference point, since I had been the first contestant.

I don’t want to sound cocky, but the next few performers were bad, really bad. I’m not saying I’m Michael Bolton, but at least I sang the melody of my song halfway in tune. One of the contestants, a German guy named Maurice, was so terrible that Simon told him, in accented English, “If I was you, I would kill myself.” The other contestants and I were a little shocked, but the crowd ate it up. Randy and Paula continued with their mercy and constructive criticism. Somehow as terrible as these performances were, the scores remained decent, with most of them hovering around 8. I was distraught. I had memorized the words to my song, prepared in advanced, and had sung with more swagger than the other contestants, but the scores did not reflect this. Was it because I was the first to perform? Did the judges hold back on my score on the false premise that I had represented the norm rather than the exceptional of Fuzhou’s Chinese pop song singing foreigner contingent?

The foreign contestants eagerly await the results. Who will be the next SuperMe hero?

With seven performances complete, I was still in the lead, by only a fraction of a point. The final performer was a Vietnamese kid who stood about five feet tall, wore a top hat and had done the Moonwalk (admittedly better than my Macarena) during our opening dance segment. He was my final obstacle in the race to become the Super Me Hero. As he took the mic from Ryan and opened his mouth, my heart dropped. Unlike the other foreign contestants who either completely sucked, or like me, only sucked a little bit, this kid could sing. After the performance, he was praised by all the judges, even Simon, and given scores all over 9. There was nothing I could say. The dream was over. I was the SuperMe runner up, the forgotten second place hero, the Art Garfunkel of Fuzhou.

I had come to SuperMe prepared and focused. I had sung my song to the best of my ability. I had given it my all, but still had not accomplished my dream of stardom. Alas, there is always next month, as I have heard rumblings of a SuperMe II coming in April. I will keep you posted.

addendum: I just got word SuperMe will be showing on Friday April 6, at 8:20 PM on Fujian Southeast Television (福建东南电视台). It should be available in most parts of mainland China.

me and “Simon” after the show

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