What is the Masked Singer? The Perfect Show for Parents and Kids
A substantial lot of my professional life has been dedicated to finding excuses to get entertainment that just about find objectionably wicked. For twelve old age I have been dissecting cinema's most dramatic failures for my My World of Flops column, first at The A.V Club and now at my website, Nathan Rabin's Happy Place. In 2013, I also chose to write a book delving deep into the wide mocked fandoms of Insane Clown Posse and Phish. The hold was titled You Don't Have intercourse Just You Don't The likes of Me and IT sent me pile a path that, as of this writing, has involved forty-something Phish shows and six visits to The Assembly of the Juggalos. But, defying entirely reason out, no of that could really prepare me for the masochistic experience of watchingThe Masked Singer.
So information technology shouldn't descend atomic number 3 a surprise that this masochistic pursuance to find reasons to plunge into the kind of abysmal-looking menu that sends most the great unwashe jetting away in horror extends to Father-God. Most newly I became profoundly grateful for my quaternity-year-old son Declan and his more or inferior total inability to delineate 'tween quality entertainment and opprobrious scraps because IT gave Pine Tree State what undersized excuse I needed to experience the strangely hypnotic idiocy of The Masked Singer.
Perhaps not coincidently, The Masked Singer boasts a premise that feels like it could have been dreamed functioning by someone like my son, a immature with a very vivid imagination and no sense of judgment. It's a celebrity reality competition with a gimmick that's one third Black Mirror, one third Yo Gabba Gabba and one third GWAR: the celebrities trying to wow audiences and the show's celebrity Book of Judges with their hitherto ungratifying or subordinate-appreciated singing voice are all decked out in elaborate costumes that obscure not just their faces merely a good deal of their bodies as well.
To further the mystery/stupidity, the masked singers intercommunicate with judges and in behind the scenes promotional segments via a voice distorter that adds an extra element of surreality to the whole crazed spectacle.
The judges for The Masked Vocalist are a wonderfully random Lot. There's discredited R&B peacock/shitty ex Robin Thicke, Pussycat Dolls' Nicole Scherzinger, Ken Jeong, and Jenny McCarthy. Remarkably, Ken Jeong has a medical degree and is an factual touch on but McCarthy, a woman I know primarily for the scene in the comedy Dirty Love, which she wrote as well atomic number 3 starred in, where her character slips around in a large pool of menstrual blood in a grocery store, is the one doling out advice to parents on whether or non they should vaccinate their children.
My favorite set forth of The Cloaked Singer is when the judges play detective terribly and stress to discern the identity of the celebrity can the mask in a fashion that wildly complete-states the show's power to convert A-heel superstars to put on ridiculous costumes, communicate direct a voice distorter and humiliate themselves.
If a masked vocalist drops that they're known for athletics, the judges will endearingly and insanely postulate that it must comprise somebody like Michael Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan or Tiger Woods. Alternately, if a masked singer lets on that they're participating with computers someways, the judges will delude themselves into intelligent that Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg is just wait for an opportunity to really put down themselves during a convoluted, aggressively stupid singing competition.
Watching The Disguised Singer with my family I want to yell at the screen that no, Beyonce or Justin Bieber aren't exit to dissipation their time organism one of the covert singers when they'ray already American Samoa noted and made Eastern Samoa human beings get, and consequently not the kind of B or C-lister whose agents would even bother them with something like The Masked Singer.
My son likes The Masked Singer mainly because of the costumes. They're gaudy and tacky and ridiculously extraordinary. A totally groovy pineapple that turned out to be Tommy Chong looked not dissimilar an Emoji come to tacky, vulgar life simply he also likes the music, which is even as objectively terrible A all other element of the appearance and even as irresistible. I could feel my Word and I getting stupider every moment we watched United States's new reality competition wi and I didn't mind the feeling one bit.
My son has given me an opportunity to re-experience the wonder and magic of quality entertainment like Sesame Street, Muppet Babies and the poetry of Shel Silverstein simply more often IT's given Maine an justify to watch loud popping culture ephemera from the past not despite it being bad but rather precisely because it promises to be sol fascinatingly unwatchable.
During Christmas, for example, I took advantage of my Individual son's obsession with entirely things Yuletide-related to watch tacky food waste that resurrected some of the shittiest, tackiest, most mercenary moments of my own childhood, like the 1980s Political action committee-Man Christmas special, which I watched because IT make Pine Tree State right in the nostalgic sweet spot and that my son watched because he will literally watch anything.
Done my son, I've been able to experience an entire incomplete-century of horrible nadirs involving the Scooby-Doo franchise, from the bad old days of Scrappy Doo (my Word thinks he's funny) to the even worsened days of Flim-Flam, an even worsened, even more offensive lately-time period attempt to liven things up past adding a child confidence man to the mix for The 13th Ghosts of Scooby Doo.
I symmetrical happily re-watched Scooby Doo TV movies from the 1970s featuring node stars like Jonathan Winters, Assume Knotts, The Harlem Globetrotters, and The Three Stooges.
I will watch anything with my son simply for the sake of hanging out with him and spending time put together. He's a creature of habit, however, and lately, he's all about watching a French cartoon called Mouk on an iPhone or his iPad.
It bums Pine Tree State out because his newfound tablet-binging is anti-social. But, more importantly, it also deprives Pine Tree State of one of my greatest joys at this present in my life: sitting on the couch with my favorite teeny-weeny dude watching terrible, terrible entertainment that connects me to my childhood and gives my son a coup d'oeil of my questioning profession and the kinds of utter nonsense that make me deeply happy.
https://www.fatherly.com/play/watching-the-masked-singer-with-my-9-year-old-son-has-made-me-whole/
Source: https://www.fatherly.com/play/watching-the-masked-singer-with-my-9-year-old-son-has-made-me-whole/
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