So Storm is gone. 

And it’s kind of a relief. For one thing, watching the show is no longer necessary. It makes for two and a half less hours of TV to watch next week. And second, careful scrutiny of the program made it clear that Storm has been yearning to get off it for weeks. No longer will she have to tout the sponsors in her spontaneous “reality” dialogue or act “surprised” if Dave wants to back her up on a song.

 

Except that apparently one never truly “leaves” this show. A member of the show’s rejects will be voted by the viewer to return for the finale; and there will be a Rock Star tour with House Band.

Like many other followers of Rock Star, I’m fairly confident that Toby is going to “win.” The Australian lad has been something of a dark horse, who didn’t really emerge as a front runner until the field was greatly reduced. Also, I think that Storm made it her project to groom him to win, giving Toby secret counseling and stage tips. His act is much more lively now, mimicking Storm’s brazen audience participation. Also, Toby’s original song was better than any of the Super Nova originals. They’ll need that.

 

It must have been a great disappointment to Mark Burnett that most of the rock star aspirants got along so well. The only one who really fell for the “reality” TV manipulation was Dilana, who still thought it was a contest as late as three weeks ago, and not an audition show. But the producers didn’t understand that either. People don’t tune in to see the “reality” drama. They’re tuning in for performances by a group of highly if unevenly talented professionals. Variety shows were common during the early years of television but today they have to be sneaked on in the guise of a competition or audition, and it’s clear now that if the show is highly focused, as in this case, on rock and roll, or what passes for rock and roll, it will drawn intense attention from a deep segment of the much coveted young audience.

In the local media here there was a Storm Watch on the local CBS news affiliate, there were nightly broadcasts of the show episodes in Dante’s, the club where Storm and the Balls played every week, and numerous interviews in the Storm-whoring local press. Presumably she will return to Portland, but why bother? She’s too big for the town now, which she is not really “from” anyway (she’s only lived here for four or five years). After all, Storm emerged as the real star of  Rock Star, and her fame, a long time coming, could go in many different directions right now, toward more TV, or movies, a record deal, whatever she wants, even writing a book, at least right now, while she’s hot. I wonder if Warren Beatty has called her yet, the ultimate sign that a female personality has arrived.

 

Speaking of which, recall Beatty’s comments about Madonna’s life on screen in the rockumentary  Truth or Dare? Storm  is the new Madonna, perfectly comfortable in front of the camera as it records her life. She’s the harbinger of a new age, the post-television child, grown to womanhood as an “object” who has seized back “the gaze” that the ladies in the quarterlies talk about and owns it.

 

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