Did I really just spend the last hour watching Deal or No Deal? I am afraid so. I couldn't turn it off, and as much as I want to say it was the charisma of the contestant with his fuchsia shirt, sporadic bouts of tears, maniacal jumping and generally positive energy, I think it's more.
Here are my initial thoughts of the show as I recover from the shame and undeniable heart palpitations incurred in the last hour:
1. This game requires exactly zero skill. We have almost entirely abandoned shows like Jeopardy that called on individuals to use their brains.
2. Because it requires zero skill, anyone - including this beaming man who drove Howie to remark "I feel like I am on the Broadway version of Deal or No Deal" - can walk away with tons of money, and it plays on the "that could be me" mentality.
3. About two dozen gorgeous women stand poised, waiting for their case number to be called and for Howie to direct them to open the case. They are gorgeous. Absurdly and ultra-degradingly, the women are all wearing matching dresses. Said dresses are obscenely low cut, so their shiny breasts nearly spill out as they jump up and down with glee when their opened case has a low dollar amount. Though this goes against every feminist fiber of my being and I want desperately to lambast the sexist show for playing on the country's misogynist attitudes, I too couldn't help but stare at these women. Again, they are gorgeous. (By the way, why isn't anyone mad about that? I mean, isn't someone raising a stink about how these women are portrayed? Did they really have to use 30-some-odd models to open the f-ing cases? And they were actually named in People's Most Beautiful list? Seriously, folks.)
4. What's perhaps more annoying, however, is that the contestants and audience act like these women have any part in this, save for smiling ear to ear, squeezing their boobs together, and if called upon, making one small motion to open a silver case. They didn't put the card in that case. Why are you thanking them? They have nothing to do with this. They don't give a shit. They are getting paid truck loads regardless of whether you win a million dollars.
5. There's a banker. He calls to make you a deal. Really, there is a small phone on a podium that rings, and red lights flash around the room and everyone gets quiet. Then Howie has a little chat with him and relays the message. Please give the a small break. The feigned melodrama is suffocating me.
6. Howie's an idiot.
7. In fact, the entire show, the host, the women, the audience, the concept - the entire thing is idiotic. So, too, then am I for sitting in front of the television, laughing out loud at the high-strung idiosyncrasies of the lovable contestant, my heart quickening with each decision.
When I first saw parts of the show and ads for it, I asked myself - are we really this ridiculous? Will this really show really be a hit? Have we all lost our ever-loving minds? Apparently, the answer to all three is yes.
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2 comments:
One more thing about the show that makes me nuts: the phrase "Deal or No Deal" is already seeping into our vernacular, having made it's way into newspaper headlines (such as, "GM workers asked 'Deal or No Deal?'".
For shame, people, for shame.
Admittedly, I too have watched this show. Once. and only once. In Miami of all places. I was with my boys in the hotel room before going out and it was the only thing on our television which got 3 channels (I know, glamourous life). Basically the only reason we watched it was because the other 2 channels were in spanish. But we didnt turn it off. Instead we cracked jokes on Howie, the moronic contestants, the contestants moronic children, and oogled the suitcase ladies. Afterwards we got drunk and made fun of ourselves for moronically watching that show. The end.
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