I don’t know if it’s because of my quiet aspirations to be a housewife, or just that I don’t like getting up in the morning, but I’ve always been fascinated with the phenomenon which is daytime TV. There’s something possibly apocalyptic about the terrible soaps, commercials about life insurance, and the glorious trashiness of the game shows that follow. Colombia, not a country to let one down generally, doesn’t disappoint in these stakes, particularly when it comes to the game shows. There’s something comforting in knowing that there are similar people all over the world – namely the kind of people that would be happy to go on The Price is Right. The show that really gets me going, though, is the treasure that is Do Re Millones: the Orchestra of Fortune. I just don’t seem to have the parameters to give this phenomenon the analysis it deserves, but I’m going to give it a try.
First up, this is a trashy game show, just like trashy game shows all over the world. Similar to The Price is Right, it relies heavily on the slightly terrifying enthusiasm of the TV audience, and on the sartorial flair of this remarkable group of human beings – perms are favoured by the ladies, mullets by the gentlemen. Nothing too unusual so far. The host, too, seems to be cut from the right mould: tall, handsome, embarassingly cheesy; Marcelo attacks the camera with just the right admixture of charm, corniness, patience, and quiet desperation. We’re on safe territory so far.
Now, here come the points of difference. First of all, this is a show devoted to music. There’s a live Do Re Millones orchestra. That’s right: an honest-to-God Orchestra – an Orchestra of Fortune, no less. This troop of quietly self-sorry, possibly once-respectable musicians is led by a slightly older, probably-should-know-better grey-haired gentleman who never fails to brandish a baton or engage in impeccable banter with our man, Marcelo. A figure of authority, to whose knowledge the entire set bows down. His knowledge must be formidable, as the entire audience seems to know every word and every move of every song being played by the Orchestra of Fortune. Colombia is a country that functions on music, and nowhere is this demonstrated with more gusto than on the set of this game show. My favourite song is the one used to “randomly” choose each contestant. You’ll see Cesar (the musical fount of knowledge) waving his baton with gay abandon, the singing crowd reaching a maniacal, Lord of the Flies-worthy pitch, and Marcelo engaging in one of the more humiliating acts of dancing I’ve seen outside of a German “Arthouse” movie.
His partner in this act of torture is my favourite facet of the entire show. High praise indeed, but Yosi Toko is decidedly worth it. Yosi Toko is probably the most spectacular manifestation of the genre of Superfluous Game Show Model ever to grace the little screen. Despite her Japan-ish moniker, and her kind-of-Chinesey entrance music, Yosi Toko is thoroughly Korean. I have no idea how she ever made it to the dizzying peaks of Colombian daytime TV, or exactly why she seems so gracefully eager to betray her proud heritage, but I’m glad she’s made it. Her minute of costume-related banter with Marcelo is something to get up for every afternoon, as is her painfully self-conscious dancing with our man.
So, a salute to the cultural triumph that is Do Re Millones. Do yourself a guilty favour: get up early enough in the afternoon to prepare, and hunker down with a bag of Todos Ricos to watch one of the more bemusing works of art ever conceived.
