Before I begin the review portion of this blog, allow me to take a minute to introduce my co-author. Standing at 36 inches, his hobbies include scribbling with crayons, blowing raspberries, and smearing his lunch. Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present Benjamin, my 21-month-old son.
I turned on Boobah this morning with some measure of trepidation. In the past, I’ve always leaped on the TV like it was on fire and flipped it off when I saw Boobah coming. It’s always reminded me of Teletubbies gone horribly wrong, when Teletubbies didn’t go right in the first place. But, for the sake of all that is fair and right in the world of children’s television reviews, I had to watch this show, give it an equal chance. Gritting my teeth and taking a deep breath, I took the plunge.
I am now going to give you a blow-by-blow of the episode, as I find myself unable to find words to summarize. Indeed, I doubt words exist in the English language, and given that I don’t speak French, we’ll do the best we can.
The show begins with children walking into a building, carrying a large package. They then set it down and blow on it, causing it to rise up and turn into something resembling a large vitamin pill with a colorful ribbon coming out of it. Pictures of people came out of the box, and a bored announcer gave their names as they floated across the screen.
After the first thirty seconds of staring blankly and feeling my liver start to congeal, I looked over at my son. He was staring at the screen too, only with a look of rapture on his face. As the last character made their appearance, he let out a shriek and started clapping his hands. So far, so good.
Then we were whisked away to a desert. Standing in front of us was a large notepad and a flower. The character named Grandpapa appeared, to much cheering and clapping by Benjamin. Grandpapa decided that he would draw the flower. He took the huge pencil and began, but then the lead broke, and he couldn’t draw anymore. Suddenly a pencil sharpener appeared, Grandpapa sharpens his pencil, draws some more, breaks the lead, and the cycle continues, punctuated by the bored announcer. “The lead broke.” “It’s a pencil sharpener.” “The lead broke again.” I’d sound bored too, if that was the entire extent of my job.
Meanwhile, the pencil is getting shorter and shorter, which Benjamin finds hysterical. Finally the picture is done, and it magically colors itself in, much to the delight of Grandpapa and Benjamin, who is beside himself with glee. I, in the meantime, am searching through the couch cushions for a suitable tool to gouge my eyes out.
Suddenly little colorful furry alien creatures arrive, in shades of yellow, purple, orange, red, and blue. They spend the next several minutes twirling one way, then twirling the other. Then we get an overhead shot of them twirling. Benjamin was mesmerized. I was comatose.
Then the alien creatures climbed into a contraption that looked like teaspoons filled with fur, and they pulled their necks up over their eyes (no, really, they did) and went to sleep. The contraption started to spin, turned into a ball, flew up in the air and over some cities and a desert, to land in a grassy place where we saw a little girl spinning around and around. After another trip, we saw a boy marching, and then we saw two little girls jumping all around. Every so often, a ghostly, disembodied voice called out, “Boobah!” It was creepy.
By the end of the show, I still wasn’t sure what I was seeing. Nothing made sense. There was no plot (unless you count the Grandpapa/pencil incident, which I don’t) very little dialogue (ghostly voices notwithstanding) and I was completely perplexed. But my co-author was in heaven. He was dancing, he was chattering at the screen, he was squealing – every emotion I had, he was experiencing the opposite.
What does this prove? I’m not the target audience for Boobah, but they’ve got their real targets right where they want them. Will I watch it again? Not unless I’m equipped with a large bag of M&Ms and some root beer to wash them down with. And a Ziploc bag to collect my eyeballs in. But if it makes Benjamin that happy, maybe it’s worth it.
Benjamin’s Score: 9 for Education, 10 for Entertainment.
Tristi’s Score: The Parent Annoyance Factor is 10.
(The judges will have to work this out amongst themselves.)