I have lost respect for the mighty Ellen DeGeneres. Why? Two words.
Swiftly followed by ... criiiiinge.
After seeing their karaoke, cruise ship like videos on YouTube, Ellen was apparently so taken by them that she flew them over for her show, catapulting them to Jedward like stardom.
It’s not that they’re entirely talentless – Dervla (seventeen year old daughter) at least has a good voice, but Derek’s (eighteen year old son) bizarre Hucklebuck dancing is not a skill – I’m sorry, but anyone can have leg spasms. Don’t start me on Mary (robo-mon).
Check out, “He drinks Tequila” here ...
It’s not even that their video screams cruise ship – I could deal with that ... just about. It’s more about the creepy way the BROTHER and SISTER look at each other when singing about “talking dirty”, and there’s one specific point where she goes, “You’re so naughty, kiss my body, and just call me pretty!” while running her finger down her BROTHER’S chest and cosying up to him with a big grin on her face while his eyes practically pop and robo-mom makes bizarre attempts to flirt with the camera in the background (3.33 – 3.40 is priceless).
And this is the Ellen interview ...
Their overpowering cheesiness wouldn’t even bother me that much if it weren’t for the fact that they’re clearly Irish Tourism robots, programmed with memorised scripts of rainbow sprinkled loveliness about how wonderful Ireland is (as imagined by Americans). Mary and her dreadful perm thrusts a bottle of Jameson at Ellen, because “we Irish love our dhroppa whiskey!” and then yaps on about kissing the Blarney Stone and the gift of the gab, “not that we Irish need any of that!” oh ha ha ha Mary, did those mischievous leprechauns tell you to say that?
Ellen asks what the differences are between Cork and LA (bahaha) and instead, robo-mom launches into a well rehearsed spiel of promotional stuff you’d find in a brochure, such as the “beautiful scenery, beautiful countryside, lovely people, lovely food, and lots of castles, blah blah”. She goes on to explain how she started the band herself eight years ago, and basically played the keyboard on her own for about five years.
... on yer own? ...that’s not really a band, love, is it? It’s just you ... by yourself ... tinkling with a keyboard ...yeah?
Apparently, she was quite successful and built up a good fanbase. I do agree with her here, five years ago all I ever listened to was robots playing keyboards. Remember that number one hit she had? No...? Oh wait ... I’m talking utter crap again.
Then the leg spasming Elvis Presley wannabe tells us how, “Showband music is very popular in Ireland, Ellen”.
Ehh... ye wha?? I dunno what clubs he’s going to but count me out. I don’t think I could even name any showbands. I’m not even sure I know what it is?? I thought perhaps he meant an older generation, so not wanting to be entirely ignorant, I asked my mother what showbands she liked. After gently enquiring if I had been stuck indoors studying for too long, I showed her Crystal Swing’s video, and she confusedly asked if this was along the lines of Father Ted’s “My Lovely Horse” video.
Hmm. Crystal Swing, nil points.
(Just in case you haven’t seen Ted ... although shame on you if you haven’t)
As if the interview on Ellen wasn’t bad enough, they threw together some sort of homemade crap promoting Cork, and honestly all I can say is ... criiiiiinge. You have to see it yourself to truly understand, but I was literally hiding behind my hands at some points because I just couldn’t watch it.
From robo-mom’s exact pronunciation to the lifted straight out of a Cork guidebook script to the fact that its paiiiinfully obviously staged, I had to force myself to watch it to the end, particularly at the Jameson bit, which is just ... God, I don’t even have words. Mary’s face at 1.30 is just terrifying.
So while I’m mopping up Irish dignity with my how-to-blatantly-pander-to-an-American-stereotype handbook, cue the horses strolling across the little coun’thry road of the “typical Oirish rural village”.
One also has to wonder why, when everyone is bundled in coats and scarves, Mary is wandering around in a sleevless top. But then we remember she’s a robot, and robots don’t feel the cold.