Another hilarious programme from Viasat 1!

The Ghanaian media is under my spotlight, and this time I have my vicious hatchet out. I really don’t know what is happening to the media at the moment, but something is seriously off kilter.

I had lunch with a friend, a well-known television presenter, who spent the whole of our lunch break complaining about the industry. She is so disenchanted with the low levels of professionalism and how television has become the dumping ground for anybody. Anyone goes into the media because for the most part no skills are required. If you can turn on a camera, you’re a cameraman. If you know how to say ‘action’, you’re a director. If you know how to string a few sentences legibly together, you can be a programme host.

Along with the work of journalists, I believe the work of the audio-visual media – news, entertainment, education – is also too crucial to the functioning of society and democracy to be taken lightly. Yet, if what passes on our screens each day is the benchmark, then obviously, we take the contribution of the audio-visual media very lightly.

I’m a television junkie. I love television. While working, I have to have it as part of the background ambience. However, it got to the point where I couldn’t bear to turn on the television and sadly, I wasn’t in the position to afford DSTV. I resorted to buying DVDs of US television series and that kept me entertained.

Then, loads of Christmases were rolled into one. For those of us who couldn’t afford DSTV, Viasat 1 came to the rescue. Initially, I was glued to that station with a vengeance. It was the kind of escapist television diet I loved. Frivolous. I couldn’t get enough of it.

Of course, as with most things in our great nation, they start well and then quickly the downward slide kicks in. For me the downward slide started with their choice of local content. For some reason, Viasat like to use the word ‘hilarious’ to describe programmes that are not remotely hilarious. Isn’t that deceptive? After the dreaded ‘Money and Fame’ debacle, which thankfully was quickly vanquished from our screens, I thought Viasat would wise up, but no. Another ‘hilarious’ programme, ‘Phamous Five’ was over advertised and I actually got excited, thinking it was my childhood favourite, ‘We are the famous five, Julian, Dick and Anne, George and Timmy the dooooog!’ No, it was another heap of Nigerian garbage. Now, we’ve been inflicted with another ‘hilarious’ Nigerian programme called ‘Clinic Matters.’ One thing all these ‘hilarious’ programmes have in common is the lack of hilarity.

I don’t know how those at Viasat can still have the cheek to ask, ‘Do you know your direction to ultimate entertainment?’ My answer: Certainly, not down any direction that leads to Viasat.  My channel of choice has now become Aljazeera. Unless it’s ‘Generations,’ ‘Oprah,’ ‘ANTM’ or ‘Grey’s Anatomy,’ I’m glued to Aljazeera. At least I know they won’t be heading down the Viasat way.

I’ve whinged about the horrible programmes being imported in from our neighbours, but compared to Viasat’s attempts at production, please, bring back the hilarious ‘Phamous Five.’

God, someone, anyone, please, please, pleeeease, save us from David Oscar. Has anyone actually laughed a minute during the hilarious ‘Laugh a minute’? This thirty-minute programme that overstays its welcome on our screens by about half an hour is the biggest pile of putrid tripe disgracing our television screens at the moment. And let me tell you, the list of competitors is extremely long. And yet, David wins hands down. Actually, there is a close second snapping at his heals.

Now, for those of you who haven’t had the misfortune to see this ha, ha, ha, hilarious comedy programme, the format is simple and has been executed successfully several times over the decades by the Americans and Europeans. A person cracks some jokes, often in a deadpan manner, tells some interesting anecdotes and shows us a few videos of people making fools of themselves, while offering up witty commentary. Simple. The problem here is that, (1) David Oscar, however hard he tries, is not funny. At all. (2) His attempts at deadpan positively shriek of ‘I’m trying very hard to pretend that I’m not funny, though I think I am.’ Sadly, he shouldn’t bother pretending. He is not funny. (3) The video clips (only God knows where Viasat procures them from) look like the dregs from the 70s and 80s, grainyly shot on Betamax. (4) Ancient videos notwithstanding, some of them are extremely funny. However, David’s highly unentertaining drivel, masquerading as funny commentary would make even those with minimal taste cringe with embarrassment. With the few videos that are actually funny, David’s commentary strips them of any comedy they initially started with.

David showed a ‘hilarious’ clip of a cat jumping up to pull a door handle. I don’t know what’s funny about that, but David felt it needed to be included in the ‘hilarious’ clips collection. David’s oh so hilarious commentary that accompanied the clip went something like this, “The cat is trying to open the door.” Gosh, David, you could have knocked me down with a feather, I would have never guessed the cat was trying to open the door. “I think it wants to go out!” David’s powers of observation were awe-inspiring. On and on he went, while the canned laughter was strained to extreme limits.

I don’t understand David’s need to explain each cheap sad joke as if he were addressing idiots. Of course, anyone who sits through this thirty minutes of dross shouldn’t complain about being talked to like an idiot.

Finally David, for goodness sakes, asking Ghanaians to send in videos of them making fools of themselves is going to net you zilch, as you’ve probably already found out. We are a nation with a great sense of humour but an inability to laugh at ourselves. So full of our self-importance, we are totally averse to anything that might resemble an embarrassing situation. I think it’s a bit of an oxymoron asking people to record on video and broadcast to your audience of three their silly side. Sorry David, but a prize of GH¢50 is no enticement for even the most HIPC of us!

David Oscar, let me give you some fast apכ, ‘You are not funny!’

The programme snapping on ‘Laugh a minute’s’ heals is ‘The One Show!’ I don’t know where to start. I really don’t. I got excited when it was first advertised, envisaging an ‘Oprahesque’ Ghanaian talk show, hosted by someone under the age of 50 and addressing modern day issues in an out of the box manner. Obviously, Oprah is the queen of talk shows and I didn’t expect ‘The One Show’ to reach those standards. Oprah has had 20 years experience at this, plus a lot of money to pump into the production. But, OMG.

When I heard Anita Erskine was involved, I thought good things would happen. I have a lot of respect for Anita and have always liked her work, so you could imagine my dismay to find out she’s part of this, this, this . . . I don’t know what to call it. Anita, woz up?

Joselyn Dumas looks and sounds like she’s forever trying to force her neurons into untried intellectual pathways. Without much success, I might add. A lot of the time, it feels as if she’s reading from cue cards. I’ve seen segments where it’s so obvious she’s not in control of the interview, or hasn’t done her homework on the topic. Many of the topic she deals with fritter out without any real resolution or take away for the audience. She comes across as being clueless, an eternal forced smile on her face, counting down the seconds until the final credits. Whew! The set is too gaudy, shinny and over lit – the same goes for the hilarious ‘Laugh a Minute.’

Her clothes . . . well, I’m no fashion expert, but those clothes are not suitable for Joselyn’s very ample hips. Why the fondness for those off the shoulder outfits, that also don’t suit her, well . . . I don’t know. I don’t know who the programme’s target audience is, but I think someone needs to sit down and figure it out, because it’s confusing. I wonder, have any of the producers watched an episode of Oprah? You know, just to get an idea.

I watched an episode segment about how to set a Christmas table and which cutlery and glasses to use for which dishes. Haven’t you always prayed for someone to furnish you with this so ‘your life depends on it’ information? No? Oh, I’m surprised.

Joselyn matched her shinny over lit set perfectly, in some garish blue, frufru, buff ball outfit. For a moment, I thought they had drafted in Tim Burton to direct the segment. It was so Alice in wonderland, I expected the Mad Hatter to pop up from amongst the garish Christmas decorations and do a ditty dance. It was scary and I continued to watch to see how much ‘worser’ (I know the word doesn’t exist, but you know what I mean) it could get. Of course, Joselyn, the brave trouper she is, waded through the ‘so important to people’s lives’ segment without batting an eyelid to the weirdness of the whole thing. The whole thing gave me goose bumps.

I do have to say though, Joselyn has improved over the months and will continue to improve, I hope. Seriously though, those who package the content need to figure things out because the programme comes across as a potpourri of . . . I don’t know, it feels like a jumble sale, with an ‘anything goes’ feel. That shouldn’t be the case. This was a perfect platform to give women another voice outlet, thinking out of the box and addressing important issues in an ‘edutaining’ way. I would love to watch a good Ghanaian talk programme – with an attractive, intelligent presenter, under 50 years of age – that I felt also addressed people like me – there are many of us.

Hey, call me a player hater, a bi-a-ch, ruthless, mean, whatever, but the truth has to be said and is being said all over, just that I’m sticking my neck out and saying it loudly and stripped of any sugar coating. There is nothing I’ve said that ain’t true. Na lie?

By Alba K. Sumprim

Contact me with any comments and suggestions at theimportedghanaian.com