BINGLE. THE RADIANT CHILD
Well, that was underwhelming.
To be fair, Australia’s newest reality show Being Lara Bingle couldn’t possibly have been as bad as the nation’s venomous anticipation demanded. There have been car battery enemas which have been awaited with more enthusiasm than Lara Bingle’s debut.
Facebook has been a nest of snakes, with many threatening to de-friend anyone who supported the death of quality television by watching.
A line, it seems, had been drawn and crossed by giving Bingle, a model whose skill set consists predominantly of incredible blue eyes and pouting, a reality show.
The antipathy has been tangible.
She was mocked to her face live on air by three Brisbane radio presenters, who accused her of being “Australia’s answer to a question we never asked”, before inviting people to ring in and bag her. Which, even if you think Bingle is taking up valuable oxygen which could be combined with hydrogen and diverted to saving the Murray Darling, is just outrageously rude.
There’s something about her being young, blonde, beautiful and, yes, not very interesting, that enrages people and makes her a soft target.
Sam de Brito, in a white knight, rah-rah pro-Lara column in the Fairfax papers, proclaimed that all Lara haters were (and I paraphrase only slightly), jealous because they don’t look as smokin’ hot in a bikini.
(Actually, I suspect Lara appeals to some blokes because she is utterly vulnerable and it brings out a fella’s protective instincts.)
Nah. I genuinely (double negative alert), don’t think that’s the reason people aren’t keen on watching 23 half-hour infomercials about Bingle’s life.
Although her smokin’ hotness, and the presence in the premiere ep of a generous helping of comely side-boob, will explain why some will return next week for another gander. Even though more than 900,000 tuned in, I doubt those figures will sustain.
Despite the atmosphere on Twitter prior to Tuesday night’s screening being that of a stoning-in-waiting, with the Kardashians evoked many times as the yardstick to which Bingle could only dream of aspiring, the show failed to even trend until the final few minutes.
The public lashing, such as it was, was limp.
There was nothing, in the end, to rail against. Despite Bingle being pulled over by the police before the second ad break, this wasn’t the car crash spectacle we were expecting to be watching through our fingers.
Fact is, Being Lara Bingle, was kind’ve bland, sort of sweet, and not unlikeable enough to be interesting. One of the longer scenes is of Lara’s housemates – brother, Josh, and PR/best friend Hermoine, having a mock fight in the supermarket over which bread to buy. Yeah. Hold on to your hats.
Mostly, though, the show is so blatantly an advertorial for ‘Brand Bingle’, as Lara calls herself, that despite Bingle’s assertion that we will see ‘the real her’, it’s impossible to get any emotional traction.
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