I snagged a screening copy of the third episode, so I hope to watch it on my day off tomorrow (I'll be in Wednesday with all kinds of posts that you may not get to till later, but no problem). I'm hoping it will turn out the way Christina W. envisions it -- horrible summer TV that's a whole lot of fun.
But it may prove too much to take. Memorable stuff, one way or the other. The Kelly Clarkson reactions to my review keep coming in as well, and I have certainly managed to stir up a hornet's nest with that.
I'm all for artistic growth and change, but if it's a fall-on-your-face kind of shift, then I've got to call it like I hear it. (Not to make this a Christina W. back-patting session, but her comment on that thread stated a lot of what I was trying to say in a different, and perhaps more effective, way.
) Anyway, if you were appalled by the long version, wait till you see the short version that will be in the paper Tuesday, where you don't have as much room to hedge and be fair and reasonable. In fact, you won't have to wait to see it, because I can reproduce it right here: Kelly Clarkson, My December 1 1/2 A painful exercise in exorcising pain Everybody hurts sometimes, as the R.E.
M. Some people write about it in diaries, others talk it out with shrinks. Kelly Clarkson, the most engaging and talented American Idol yet, poured her pain into her third album, and the pain will be shared by anyone unfortunate enough to hear the dreary result.
Wallowing in misery and spite, rife with clumsy Evanescence and Alanis Morissette knockoffs, it’s joyless, nearly hopeless and, worst of all, virtually tuneless. I snagged a screening copy of the third episode, so I hope to watch it on my day off tomorrow (I'll be in Wednesday with all kinds of posts that you may not get to till later, but no problem).
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