Acceptable in the '80s

Take a good look around. La Roux is at the top of the charts with an album that sounds like it was scraped together from a bunch of Yazoo out-takes. The A-Team, the Smurfs and T.J. Hooker are all being lined up for big-screen reinventions. And Patrick Dempsey is still one of the hottest actors around. It's safe to say that the 80s is no longer the forgotten decade.

The latest relic from the era of head-bands, leg-warmers and Wincey Willis to be hauled back into public consciousness is the ground zero of jazz hands, Fame. Starting out as a surprisingly gritty drama by Alan Parker, the original film followed the endeavours of some of New York's most compelling young talents. And a dull girl with a cello. But thanks to some toe-tapping tunes, energetic performances and a pair of very short shorts (thanks Leroy), the movie was a massive success and even won two Oscars.

Smelling a franchise, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer was quick to recruit as many of the movie's unknown cast as possible, and lined up a weekly TV show. Despite being a staggeringly formulaic and amateurish production, it was another smash hit. For a while at least. New song and dance numbers were incorporated into every episode, and the cast regularly took to the road for extensive tours as "The Kids From Fame". Finally, in 1987, the show was cancelled and the cast shuffled off into relative obscurity, before being temporarily dragged out of it for one of Justin Lee Collins' nostalgia-fests on Channel 4.

So now, here we are anticipating Fame for a new generation. The trailer (embedded below for your viewing convenience) seems to tick all the right boxes. An R&B update of the iconic theme song, young people giving it their all with steely determination, and lots and lots of stretching. Unfortunately, what has changed is the context.

Back in 1980, Debbie Allen's voiceover declared "You've got big dreams? You want fame? Well, fame costs. And right here is where you start paying ... in sweat." So how is the movie going to work in an era when fame costs nothing? These days, fame is a simple commodity that can be acquired by being born, being hysterical, or sticking a wine bottle up your Jacob's Creek. There's no longer any need to pay in sweat, since any bodily fluids will suffice. Talent has become entirely incidental, and at times seems diametrically opposed to the very concept of celebrity.

Equally, breakthrough success is equated with selling-out. Instead, integrity and genuine creative expression live underground, on self-financed record labels and in independent arthouse movies.

Sadly, the sweetspot where talent and fame do actually converge is a troublesome nexus for many. The entertainment world has lost countless talents decades before their time because the conflicting pressures were just too great. As Irene Cara once sang, "I'm gonna live forever..." but only figuratively speaking.

Paramount makes a splash

Well, it seems like the folks in Hollywood have managed to successfully scratch their way through the barrel's base, and are now tunneling towards the earth's core.

Turning beloved TV shows into disposable, memory-violating monstrosities has long been a viable course of action for any studio bereft of ideas. But now it seems they've run out of worthy properties and have turned their attention to any old garbage with name recognition. This summer, Will Ferrell came a cropper with a big budget adaptation of Land of the Lost, a show remembered only by stoners (and let's face it, how good can their memory really be?). Now, possibly the worst show ever broadcast is being mooted for the 'reimagining' treatment. That's right, Baywatch is heading for a big screen near you.

As well as running for an astonishing 12 years and spawning an equally awful spin-off (Baywatch Nights), the show achieved its place in pop culture legend as the most watched TV show in the world. At its peak in 1996, it was being watched by more than 1.1 billion people in 148 countries, most of them with the curtains drawn I imagine.

Unashamedly milking (steady now) its premise for all it was worth, Baywatch used slow-motion to such an extent that an entire season played at regular speed would probably only run for about an hour and a half. And yet viewers tuned in religiously every week to see their favourite characters, the hot one, the short-haired one, the brunette one and the black one run up and down the beaches of Malibu carrying a giant plastic lozenge.

The show's creative team, a genuine case of the infinite monkey theorem if ever there was one, occasionally attempted to add plots to its already overflowing D-cup. We had smugglers, street gangs, pollution and even skin cancer, and yet all anyone really remembers is the two manadatory musical montages that cropped up in every one of the 241 broadcast episodes. Well, that and the awesome 'Current of Love', by Germany's favourite soft-rocker David Hasselhoff, which became the show's iconic theme song.

The writer selected for the project is Jeremy Garelick, who scripted Jennifer Aniston's The Break Up, and its said that he plans to turn it into a comedy. Unfortunately, he also claims never to have seen the show, which explains why he mistakenly believes that his approach will be a welcome change.

Because Baywatch was always fully aware of how ridiculous it was. After a po-faced first season which almost got it cancelled, the budgets were slashed, the proper actors were sacked, and a bunch of comically inflated playmates were cast in their place. Selected for their ability to fill a red swimsuit and read off cue-cards, they weren't expected to act or emote, just stand, run and swim. In that order. And the viewers lapped it up, laughing along with the show's preposterous attempts at drama.

This could all end up like Scary Movie - an embarassing spoof of something that was a tongue-in-cheek joke in the first place. But as long as the actresses are cast for their ability to inhabit a swimsuit rather than a character, I'm sure it'll be a resounding success. As for the T.J. Hooker movie, don't get me started...