The Root Beer Blog

December 06, 2003

Iron Chef Retarded

So I'm watching Iron Chef USA. It's hysterically bad.

Shatner is his typical overdramatic self, but he's not referred to as "Shatner," or "William," or "Billy." He's just "The Chairman." We've taken all the subtlety out of the show...which shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone, really, except that instead of just stripping it away and leaving a slightly brash version of the delicate original, we've twisted it into a ridiculous amalgam of American Gladiators and Emeril Live. We play this game in an arena disturbingly similar to the Who Wants to be a Millionaire set.

The theme music is a cheap arrangement likely inspired by--but quite inferior to--the Japanese version's "Backdraft" theme. Shatner starts the whole wretched affair with a huge toes-to-ceiling gesture and a scream--"Turn up the Heat!"--after which a busty but less-attractive version of Vanna White rings a big gong. Today's secret ingredient is turkey. The meat, not the country.

There is a huge digital screen on each side of the studio, displaying camera closeups and other crowd-pleasers. The color scheme for the graphics work is red white and blue, with unpleasantly psychedelic displays for the names of the Iron Chefs.

There's actually an "Iron Chef American." His specialty is brisket. The tasting panel has Ron Popeil on it, for Christ's sake!

Iron Chef Italian, it has just been announced, will be making Ravioli! The crowd, stunned for a brief moment, erupts in applause, and then the sound level quiets down so we can hear the intense music, complete with a steady high-hat that simulates the ticking of a stopwatch. All the music is deliberately cheesy.

I cannot believe what I'm seeing. It's the absolute greatest comedy show of the fall season, ousting all the network suspects, and I predict nothing funnier will come on in a year unless they make a reality TV show about Dick Cheney's family.

"I'm a lesbian, Dad! I love other women!" "It's damned EVIL, Mary! EVIL!!! Talk about laughs!

Back in Kitchen Stadium, or whatever it's called now, Iron Chef Italian has dropped a piece of saltimbocca. The crowd, in unison, makes a loud "oh!" The challenger's foamer doesn't work! What will he do?

The announcers are particularly qualified. "Now, what's he got there?" "Uh, that's a food processor. It chops things up, real fine." "And what's that tool called, that he's using there?" "It's a ravioli-cutter." "Oh. It's a good thing you're here."

I've just been reminded that this venue is called "Kitchen Arena," not "Kitchen Stadium," as I previously guessed.

The boisterous crowd quiets down as Ron Popeil calls the challenger's tuna-and-turkey dish "bland." Some guy from a sitcom I don't remember says they don't go together. Kelly Hu says it's good. The guy says "Tuna belongs on toast with some mayonnaise. A black woman named Loretta says it's "nothing she was used to eating in the hood." The canned lauger from the crowd.

As the judging begins, the tasting panel opens their notebooks. Popeil dons his Rumsfeld sunglasses. A fanfare plays, and we're into a commercial break. Who will win? It's obvious, from the commentary, that the Iron Chef will. So why do we stay tuned? In case something funny happens. Which I'm virtually positive will be the case. The little lady just asked if this was on Comedy Central.

And we're back. The Iron Chef has won. Shatner The Chairman has shed his sparkly purple overcoat, but retains his silken purple vest. He ends with a Springer-style "final thought," a droning soliliquy that touches on individiality and courage and a bunch of blather I couldn't be bothered to listen to. Cut to a shot of the crowd doing the wave, cue the triumphant music, and we're done.

Now that is some funny TV. Good job, Food Network.

Posted by Chris at December 6, 2003 10:59 PM | TrackBack