Friday 21 December 2001

Mariah Carey's holiday hash

The holidays just haven't been the same since Kathie Lee Gifford stopped doing her notoriously hilarious Christmas specials. That tough-as-nails Tinkerbell and her mad vanity productions became a rich if inadvertent source of Christmas cheer. She really had a way of spiking the old eggnog, eh, boys?

No one has come along to pick up the slack since Gifford churlishly retired from the holiday-special biz, but a few fellow artistes have tried - among them Mariah Carey. In its own daft and deafening, crackpot-sexpot way, her new CBS Christmas special approaches the glory that was Gifford. "A Home for the Holidays With Mariah Carey" marks the screechy songstress's third annual mush fest. Only a few holiday songs are allowed to creep into the show - airing tonight at 8 on Channel 9 - and this is one Christmas special that looks bleak enough to have been produced by E. Scrooge himself.

The message, however, is anything but bleak. Carey's specials endorse an unassailably commendable cause: encouraging the adoption of abandoned children, giving them "a home for the holidays" - and for the rest of the year as well. No one's going to run around doubting the worthiness of that.

Interspersed among the musical numbers are little video vignettes that show us the happiness resulting when married couples who want children are teamed with kids in need of a mom and dad and of guidance and inspiration. You've got to be moved when the camera focuses on an adorable 7-year-old who says plaintively, "I want someone to adopt me and love me forever".

The sweet seriousness of this message makes it all the more lamentable that Carey and her guests spend the remainder of the hour torturing various songs within the proverbial inches of their lives. That they all share essentially the same performing style provokes an inescapable question: Why do so many of today's pop stars appear to be in agonizing pain when they sing even the most innocuous of ditties? Enrique Iglesias looks to be in the grip of intractable depression as he sings some mournful ballad about a girl that got away - or maybe a fish that got away, or maybe a bad day at the office. It's hard to tell. But clearly Enrique is suffering.

The supposedly sultry Iglesias is dressed in chic black. So is Mandy Moore, a performer who looks as if she's been through the wringer - and then broke the wringer. Charlotte Church and Josh Groban are swathed in black for their duet, too. Black is the color, no doubt about it. Is this a holiday special or "Batman Part IV"?

Perhaps the solemnity of apparel is a gesture of respect to the year's many victims of global terrorism. But wait - Carey wears a red dress to start the show and a not-very-virginal white one for her finale. And though her outfits may seem conservative in terms of color, they border on slutty in terms of design. She begins one of her tragique tunes from out among the audience, then totters onto the stage, her breasts struggling to escape from the tiny swatch of cloth that restrains them. The song is yet another grievous lamentation, though the lyrics are hard to make out. She might be singing about a ding in a new Mercedes.

Of course, Ms. Carey has not had a good year. There was that nasty little breakdown a few months ago, a spell that could not have been helped by the definitively poor showing her film "Glitter" made at the box office. They actually could have shown it in box offices; that's how few people turned out.

It wasn't so much a movie as a wake for Carey's film career. Maybe that's what inspired all the black attire on the holiday special. Destiny's Child, a currently popular trio (whose popularity seems to have an expiration date of, oh, Jan. 15 or so), offers an alleged medley of alleged holiday tunes that twists and bends them completely out of shape. No kidding - a couple are utterly unrecognizable.

The funny thing is that the lead singer invites the audience to join in - a neat trick when the songs' melodies have all been ravaged beyond recognition. It's a little like, oh, Ravi Shankar shouting, "Okay - everybody sing along!" and then hammering something indecipherable on his sitar.

Gloomy-two-shoes Dustin Hoffman, in black of course, makes a muttered pitch for adoption, and Patricia Heaton - the best thing about the CBS sitcom "Everybody Loves Raymond" - manages to inject a wee peep of humanity with a similar spiel.

The message about adoption is totally commendable. But the way it's delivered is lumpy-bumpy. Who'd have imagined that anything could make us long for the unseemly self-adoration of wacky Kathie Lee? At least her holiday specials had an endearing rather than pretentious kind of dopiness. If Carey loves Christmas, it's strictly tough love. Her special is less paean than punishment.

(The Washington Post)



COMMENTS
There are not yet comments to this article.

Only registrated members can post a comment.
© MCArchives 1998-2024 (26 years!)
NEWS
MESSAGEBOARD