A L S O_.T O D A Y Blue Glow Earthquakes, volcanoes, Naomi Campbell and other forces of nature There's Something About Mary By Charles Taylor The scatological brothers Farrelly try their grubby hands at romantic comedy Y E S T E R D A Y Pi Reviewed by Laura Miller An arty mix of math and migraines (07/16/98) The Latin invasion By John Milward A "midrocker" finds reason to learn how to really dance (07/16/98) R E C E N T_. T E L E V I S I O N Husbands and wives By Joyce Millman "Everybody Loves Raymond" is a family sitcom -- but it's not about the kids (07/03/98) American Squirm By Sarah Vowell Fishers of men: Two offbeat TV talk shows reinvent the celebrity interview (06/29/98) Buffy By Joyce Millman Love bites: Buffy learns about life (06/08/98) When Garry met Larry By Joyce Millman "The Larry Sanders Show" signs off after six seasons, but creator Shandling and his alter ego remain inseparable (05/29/98) You go, girls By Joyce Millman Time's up for "Murphy Brown" and "Ellen," but they were once TV's women of the hour (05/18/98) BROWSE THE TV ARCHIVES COLUMNS FEATURES

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS | PAGE 1, 2 - - - - - - - - - - "FANatic" may be the quintessential MTV show. It reflects the music channel's current playlist and cinematic pretensions -- the celebrities on most of the episodes so far have been action movie stars, rappers or guitar bands. And like "The Real World" and MTV's other "reality" shows, there are nagging suspicions about just how real it all is. In one episode of "FANatic," a girl who had never been on an airplane or traveled outside the country before was whisked off to Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates to meet Wesley Snipes. I couldn't stop wondering how they got her a passport without ruining the surprise, but, then, maybe I'm too hung up on details. The most MTV-like aspect of "FANatic," though, is the show's latent sadism. The subtle selling point of "FANatic," like that of "The Real World" and the old "Singled Out," is this: Tune in to see people making fools of themselves. On the first episode of "FANatic" last week, a Van Halen fan was surprised by MTV while taking a dip in his backyard pool and sent off to the airport in a limo without being allowed to put on a pair of pants. Worse yet, his groupie mom went with him, whooping and hollering all the way -- when they finally met the band, she cooed to Eddie Van Halen, "I want to be your guitar!" Humiliating? Perhaps for an ordinary human being, but not for a FANatic; this kid was so pumped in the presence of 'Halen, he had completely tuned out mom. While the fans are intruded upon in their slumber by camera crews trying to get the most unflattering shots possible, and allowed to ramble on and on about how Bruce Willis is God, the celebrities on "FANatic" are protected by discreet editing (and, you'd assume, a rigorous stalker screening policy). They remain, for the most part, untouchable, revealing nothing; they're professionally polite. And yet, the sadism of "FANatic" sneakily cuts two ways. More than one episode showed how far celebrities are willing to go to flog a new venture, as long as they're not required to feel anything. Eddie Van Halen and Green Day's Billie Joe looked so bored listening to fans thanking them profusely for giving their life meaning, you wanted to slap them. The confectionary doo-wop group Backstreet Boys were attentive and polite, as only manufactured teen idols can be, until their fan started talking about how their music helps her cope with life in her drug- and crime-riddled Brooklyn neighborhood. Then they got quiet and tongue-tied -- hey, man, nobody told us this was going to be heavy! Even as "FANatic" brings two worlds together, it emphasizes how far apart they'll always be. "FANatic" may hook viewers in with its meanly amusing cinéma vérité; it's like those David Letterman gags where he turns the outside camera on and makes fun of passersby. But there are moments that suggest a very different, smarter agenda. "FANatic" shows you why stars can't risk giving anything real of themselves, and why fans will never get the deep, all-consuming love back that they put in. You come away from the show with the sense that life in a celebrity-driven culture isn't so swell on either side of the divide; fandom fills up undernourished souls with one-sided connections and dangles over the heads of the famous like a dark sword. Like Rupert Pupkin in Martin Scorsese's "The King of Comedy," some of the fans on the show happily act out their fondest wishes of devouring and replacing their idols. Backstage at the Van Halen concert, the fan played Eddie's guitar, then got to come out during the concert and sing with them. The Green Day fan made them listen to a gushy letter he wrote them but never sent, then he asked for a guitar pick, then he asked them to autograph his guitar; by way of farewell, he yelled that maybe they'd see him onstage someday. On the flip side, there's a depressing, and ineffably poignant, sameness to the way the fans speak of their idols. In segment after segment, show after show, certain phrases are always coming up: You're my role model, you're my inspiration, you saved my life. The fans don't seem to realize that their favorite hears those words every day. They don't realize how unspecial their feelings are. "FANatic" corrals in one uneasy space the forces that keep the entertainment/media complex running smoothly. Here, where commodity meets consumer and the burden of celebrity meets the freedom to dream, one person's fantasy becomes another person's nightmare. SALON | July 17, 1998