A talent competition that makes its contestants perform as giant stuffed animals is pretty haunting as concepts go, yet it’s one that has driven FOX’s ratings to new heights. Corny it might be, but I’ve found myself among The Masked Singer’s millions of weekly viewers, attempting to harmonise my way through the hour along with its mystery celebrity vocalists – some of whom are as mediocre at singing as me.
I naively assumed the term celebrity would mean I’d be serenaded by the tender vocals of Billie Eilish or even the powerful timbre of Shakira. Instead, as a card-carrying member of Gen Z (I was born in 1997), I very rarely recognise the weekly contestants, which this season have so far included pastry chef Duff Goldman, sports broadcaster Joe Buck, Philadelphia Eagles footballer Jordan Mailata, actor Jorge Garcia, model Christie Brinkley, magician duo Penn & Teller, Dog the Bounty Hunter Duane Chapman, Broadway actor Jennifer Holliday, and former New York City mayor Rudy Giuliani. But as the season continues, I can see the show for what it is; rather than taking itself too seriously, The Masked Singer’s main aim isn’t megawatt star power but joyful frivolity.
