There is not enough information about how new shows are born. After all, it's also something intimate that you do not necessarily want to pull to the public. But education is also important.
So, this is how it works: If "Ninja Warrior Germany" and "Germany is looking for the Superstar", gaaanz doll love, after a bit of idea hatching then "Superhero Germany" comes out at the end: a Saturday night show format on Pro Sieben, in which the candidates are first presented in maudlin, fateful Schlagspieleronspielerfilmchen to then compete against each other for a short time in Kraftmeierischen games. And whoever wins, in the end, has to throw a concrete ball back and forth with Tim Wiese.
The whole thing could be in his repetitive dullness comforting brain-destroying relaxation television - duel for duel we see in the first round very strict women balancing tractor tires on a concrete block and very strong men hammering logs into a bench, to nickelbackelige pathos music.
If there were not these misery-loving films, which are many times longer than the actual competition rounds. For the least of the candidates, the moment of revival that motivated them to start muscle-building was uncomfortable only at normal levels, as in Diana's: "I started with the sport when a coach told me: Mouse, you have to train properly. "
Most of their competitors have more serious motives: they were teased as a child, suffered from glandular fever or ADHD, had a grandfather who was in a wheelchair, were addicted to drugs. But with their muscles they also wanted to be better than everyone else. "For me, there is nothing else than winning," says Constantin, who actually manages to reach the final after two direct duels against the other candidates.
The most interesting observation in these dramaturgically hard-redundant movies is a shift in the iconography of the Muscovy: While traditionally used to lift weights in order to depict his body-minded efforts, it is currently seemingly modern to show how to handle heavy ropes you put in waves. It looks exhausting.
In contrast, the way to the final, which leads through several direct duels, unfortunately less exciting, but slightly erratic implemented. Why, for example, do the eight women have to race against each other in gigantic hamster wheels, while the eight men on a giant dice (yes, everything is very, very big in this show) must play around?
Is not it a mad waste of resources, the so-called bosses (the professional athletes Christina Obergföll and Sandra Bradley in the women, Tim Wiese and Björn Werner in the men) most of the time of the three-hour show just lazily sitting around on a kind of podium, before the Finally, both finalists have to play against them in the final round? Especially since at least meadow in such formats reliably delivers and, if you ask him in between times for his opinion, the candidates directly stable categorized as "actually only victims".
Useful additions include the profile cards of the candidates, who list their "herofactors" as in the case of the auto quartet, ie their personal values in the categories strength, tempo, stamina and coordination. These were determined in a not further thematized qualifying round, one learns vaguely from the threadbare host Patrick Esume, but nothing more.
Also pointless are the repeated rehearsals of competition scenes, which one had only just seen, which gives the impression of being trapped in a huge endless loop.
In the final game finalist and final man must finally compete against the final opponents of their respective sex, which does not hesitate long: The professional athletes win all duels, so there is, only a medium-sized disappointment, first of all no German Superhero.
At the end of the day, it's just the very, very long duel between Tim Wiese and finalist Constantin, who have to throw a ten-kilo concrete ball over a volleyball net - a strangely reassuring process that quite well combines the tried and tested campfire ambient video as a relaxing loop on the beach home TV screen could replace.