By Ray Richmond
LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - "Lisa Williams: Life Among the Dead" is a six-part reality series about a woman who saw a market niche -- no women on TV taking meetings with dead people -- and decided to fill it.
What's striking at the outset is how there is virtually no discussion of why Williams does what she does in her day job, where she acquired this skill and, most importantly, if the deceased respond better to someone sporting a British accent (my guess: no). But the spare presentation seems to presume that we're now so indoctrinated with this genre that we require no trappings or even explanation. Like John Edward and James Van Praagh before her, Williams grapples as much with credibility issues as she does giving closure to traumatized survivors. Indeed, even more than did her predecessors, she pretty much seems to make it up as she goes along.
Skeptics may view a show like this as an acting gig for the crossover spirit communicator who presides. Williams is likable enough: a young wife and mother with a zaftig physique, punked-out tri-color hair and an unassuming, lively personality. There's no intro or narrator to be found on the DVD supplied for review, and it was shot on film to give it a more artsy look. Not that it much matters, of course. It comes to us from the production stable of Merv Griffin, which presumably means that if this gig doesn't work out, Williams might have a shot at being a substitute letter-turner on "Wheel of Fortune."
The conceit is that we're watching a typical day in Williams' life, riding shotgun as she drives to her next deceased connection/deconstruction and then arrives home to her mortal hubby and son, chatting offhandedly between visions of dead people. At least Williams doesn't go in for the whole, "I'm seeing an R. . . . No? Um . . . What about a V? . . . Was there someone named Victor? Valerie? Vonda? Vern?"
We see Williams talking to a tearful young widow of an Iraq War soldier who died in battle, who -- as if on cue -- admits: "I wasn't expecting this to be real, I thought it would be a hoax. But I was wrong!" This begs the question: If you thought it was crap going in, why would you want to be a party to it in a TV show? Therein lies the secret to the de facto legitimizing of such a sham science: People want for it so badly to be real that they will it to be so.
The absurdity of the enterprise is underscored by an opening gambit that finds Williams approaching two random young men on Hollywood Boulevard and immediately feeling their losses, communicating with the spirit world as if it's a spigot that can be turned on and off at will.
"Life Among the Dead" closes with Williams visiting a tavern where a murder once took place and has purportedly been haunted ever since. She cops a freaked-out stance, irritated that she's being hassled by this one bastard dead guy and thus vowing never to return. Yet you'd figure that Williams, more than anyone, really ought to understand that death's a bitch -- and then you live.
LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - "Lisa Williams: Life Among the Dead" is a six-part reality series about a woman who saw a market niche -- no women on TV taking meetings with dead people -- and decided to fill it.
What's striking at the outset is how there is virtually no discussion of why Williams does what she does in her day job, where she acquired this skill and, most importantly, if the deceased respond better to someone sporting a British accent (my guess: no). But the spare presentation seems to presume that we're now so indoctrinated with this genre that we require no trappings or even explanation. Like John Edward and James Van Praagh before her, Williams grapples as much with credibility issues as she does giving closure to traumatized survivors. Indeed, even more than did her predecessors, she pretty much seems to make it up as she goes along.
Skeptics may view a show like this as an acting gig for the crossover spirit communicator who presides. Williams is likable enough: a young wife and mother with a zaftig physique, punked-out tri-color hair and an unassuming, lively personality. There's no intro or narrator to be found on the DVD supplied for review, and it was shot on film to give it a more artsy look. Not that it much matters, of course. It comes to us from the production stable of Merv Griffin, which presumably means that if this gig doesn't work out, Williams might have a shot at being a substitute letter-turner on "Wheel of Fortune."
The conceit is that we're watching a typical day in Williams' life, riding shotgun as she drives to her next deceased connection/deconstruction and then arrives home to her mortal hubby and son, chatting offhandedly between visions of dead people. At least Williams doesn't go in for the whole, "I'm seeing an R. . . . No? Um . . . What about a V? . . . Was there someone named Victor? Valerie? Vonda? Vern?"
We see Williams talking to a tearful young widow of an Iraq War soldier who died in battle, who -- as if on cue -- admits: "I wasn't expecting this to be real, I thought it would be a hoax. But I was wrong!" This begs the question: If you thought it was crap going in, why would you want to be a party to it in a TV show? Therein lies the secret to the de facto legitimizing of such a sham science: People want for it so badly to be real that they will it to be so.
The absurdity of the enterprise is underscored by an opening gambit that finds Williams approaching two random young men on Hollywood Boulevard and immediately feeling their losses, communicating with the spirit world as if it's a spigot that can be turned on and off at will.
"Life Among the Dead" closes with Williams visiting a tavern where a murder once took place and has purportedly been haunted ever since. She cops a freaked-out stance, irritated that she's being hassled by this one bastard dead guy and thus vowing never to return. Yet you'd figure that Williams, more than anyone, really ought to understand that death's a bitch -- and then you live.
Post a Comment
<< Home