Television Review: ‘Star’- The Backstreet Boys Special.

BBC2, 10.35am, Sunday 5th November 2001.

Slotted into the Children’s BBC schedule after ‘Rugrats’, ‘Star’ makes no effort to disguise who its target audience are. And why should they? After all, it is well known that the Backstreet Boys, five immensely popular and successful American ‘pretty boys’, sell very well to the youth music market. So much so that it is down to them that the Boys are introduced as ‘The biggest boy band in the world’!
The programme begins with the opening ‘Star’ titles- simple red stars moving over a white background- perhaps underlining the cost cutting that becomes evident throughout the show, probably the cause of the cost of the interview itself. The opening graphics come to a close in almost blink-and–you’ll-miss-‘em speed, getting into the programme itself before too much of the running time (a paltry 15 minutes) is used up.
The cost cutting seems to continue as we are introduced to the presenter, a completely Americanised chap basing his limited style on a twenty-first century Elvis Presley- a trait sadly not backed up by his ‘talent’. The visual effects in this section are very trendy indeed, something which is the case throughout, as firstly the film is sped up and we see our presenter stood in the middle of the street while all the shoppers around him walk very, very fast. When I have recovered from my amazement at the brilliance of the minds at work on ‘Star’, I begin to wonder as to the point of the exercise, but am suddenly thrown into awe at the strange close-ups of our presenter’s anatomy (mercifully clothed) as he walks along, muttering something about the sheer brilliance of the group (‘…50 million albums worldwide…’).
The next point in the show is the one that will torment me, and no doubt other reluctant viewers, for years to come. We are introduced to the group in a speedily edited collection of video clips from live tours and music videos, perhaps the most banal footage in the whole documentary, and featuring a cringe worthy close-up of one of the band’s members (possibly ‘Brian’- we are not formally introduced thanks to Star’s fear of titles and probably the assumption that all the viewers would be clever enough to know all their names before we start).
These clips are tolerable at the first viewing, but in true CBBC style, repetition is fun kids! (More of this later). We now reach what is to be the bulk of the show; taking place in a studio, the five Backstreeters sit complete with designer stubble, ‘cool’ clobber, sunglasses (why? There is no sun), jewellery, painted nails and probably even make-up, while our ever more humble presenter asks mundane questions about popular culture (‘Friends’ anyone?), love (two of them have, sadly for all the young ladies in the audience, recently become hitched), and their careers.
The shots of the band members are typically close, showing off their beauty (yes, beauty, Nick- the effeminate one- is almost certainly wearing lipstick), as they mull over the questions, showing all the intensity of a tin of soup. Indeed, most of the questions are laughable- ‘which ‘Friends’ character are you most like?’- As are the answers as they fight over being Joey, the ‘Italian Stallion’, while I sit wondering which one is most like Marcel the monkey.
It is just at the point that I decide none of them are at all dissimilar, when we are treated to the first clip repetition, and my mind turns to jelly once more, taking me to the intelligence level of a goldfish, then a dandelion, and finally a Backstreet Boy. Another thing that strikes me about the boys is how seriously they take themselves as they talk about meaningful things like their lyrics (!).
‘Star’ continues to shock me as, when I thought all hope of titles was lost, the name of the song being played appeared. This was most likely done as it will be their new single, so for many, thankfully including myself, it would be the first hearing. The song- ‘Shape of my Heart’ is okay, typical of pop music, and we are treated to the full-length video, possibly as a reward for sticking with the previous hour (okay, five minutes, it just felt like an hour). An overwhelming feeling of deja vu comes over me as they stand from their stools as the song reaches its climax (no dancing = slow ballad), I am sure from my limited knowledge of the group that they have done this before. The camerawork in this segment is again very trendy, culminating in a lovely blurred dissolve, which had me wishing they had used that technique every time the presenter came into shot. However, I was relieved that the song had ended, as the wonky camera angles, group panning, zooms and tilts were starting to make me giddy. But what should we find ourselves dissolving into? Another ‘clip repetition’ that had me reaching for the cyanide.
The penultimate piece of studio footage asks about touring, specifically- of course- in Europe. The Backstreet Boys tell us Europeans how they love touring in Europe and how they can’t wait to come back here (probably to sell unsuspecting adolescents an extortionate ticket for an evening full of let downs (the dancing is terrible, the group don’t even sing live, they may not even turn up). In an effort to entice us to buy, we are shown a clip of their millennium concert, described as ‘futuristic and Hi-Tec’, and which involved members of the group hanging from the ceiling (unfortunately not by the necks) while a few pyrotechnics go off around them. Futuristic? There wasn’t even a time portal!
For the fourth and final time, we are shown the depressingly familiar ‘clip repetition’. I attempt to let out a blood-curdling scream, but silence prevails as I realise that my larynx has exploded due to my state of suicidal depression.
The final interview section brings about the classically clichéd line that that the music industry is a ‘hard business to be in’, and I summoned up all my mental strength (by this point very little) to will the presenter to ask what was hardest, the money or the adulation. All he gave for my efforts was sickeningly gormless smile as a small amount of saliva was released from his mouth. The group democratically suggested that competition was healthy in response to a question of the all-too-many, all-too-poor number of boy bands around. It was at this point that I began grating at my elbow with a wooden spatula in an effort to end my misery at the group’s pretentious, blind stupidity.
To end the programme, ‘Star’ played a clip of the Backstreet Boys’ biggest hit so far, complete with titles. This bemused me as even I could name ‘Quit playin’ games’ thanks to its radio overplay. The conclusion I came to was that it sounded so similar to the rest of their songs that avid fans could easily become confused between songs.
As we reached the closing titles, my sigh of relief could be heard echoing around for miles, yet this did not stop ‘Star’ from unashamedly plugging themselves in an excruciating display of self-publicity. They mentioned- in what was clearly a lesson in blatant bias, that they were the best celebrity show around. ‘Great’, I thought as I switched off the television, ‘now back to bed’. And safe as I was in the knowledge that ‘Star’ were so good that they could turn a fifteen minute entertainment documentary into a thirty-seven hour epic haul of pain, I went straight to sleep.