Hey, remember when game shows had more than one contestant at a time? When they had… what did they used to call it… competition? On ABC’s new game show Downfall, the quizzes are reasonably challenging, and the contestants have to answer them quickly, or their prizes slide off the roof of a 10-story building—just before the contestants themselves get dropped. And yet from the moment host Chris Jericho strode out and explained that the game would be played by a single contestant in rounds, with the first round being worth $5,000 and the second $10,000, all the way up to a million, I immediately knew it’d be unlikely that I’d ever watch another episode of this show. The post-Who Wants To Be A Millionaire game show format—no matter how many gimmicks the producers add to the game-play itself—is like a suit of clothes. Worn… out.
I’ve already outlined my basic objections to the look of the modern game show in a blog post about Minute To Win It earlier this year, but the look isn’t really a problem with Downfall, which at least takes place outdoors, and thus isn’t so beholden to the “circle of footlights”/theater-in-the-round set design. (Though why couldn’t the show be shot in the daytime, if only to get away from the inky blackness that defines so many game shows these days?) The problem here is the structure of the game, which like too many of the WWTBAM progeny breaks up the few minutes of actual nail-biting action with long stretches of deliberation. Does the contestant wish to continue? Does she understand the stakes? Is she nervous? Who did she bring with her today? Can we take a look at them in the audience? Do they think she could continue? By the way, what does she do for a living? Does she have any hobbies? And on and on, between each round, all while promising the viewers that the contestant could make it all the way up to the $1,000,000 level… though she probably won’t.
The first episode of Downfall featured only two contestants in an hour, and the second one didn’t even get to finish his game. Between the two, they played about eight rounds of the actual game, with each round taking roughly a minute. Do the math. That’s an awful lot of padding for a show whose host isn’t exactly Howie Mandel. (Jericho, a Canadian wrestler and all-around fame-whore seems like a personable enough guy, but he’s not really one for the banter.)
What’s especially frustrating about Downfall is that, as I mentioned, the game itself’s not bad. Contestants pick from a list of categories and are given short clues to prompt their answers within that category. Like, if the category is Best Picture Winners, they’re given a year and a star, and have to come up with a title. Or if the category is Vegetables, they’re given two varieties and have to come up with the name of the vegetable. Some of the prompts are easy; some harder. But even the easy prompts can be tough, because while the contestant is answering, he or she is watching the prizes go by on a conveyer-belt headed to the edge of the roof. The last prize is always the money for the round, and if the contestant hasn’t given the required number of answers by the time the money reaches the edge, he or she can freeze the conveyer belt and risk something else instead of the money: a prized possession or a loved one. Then the contestants take a new quiz, and if they fail, the collateral drops. (The loved ones are yoked to a crane, so the drop is scary but not injurious.)
I have to say, while that conveyor belt’s rolling and the contestant’s blanking on the name of the fast-food restaurant that serves Gorditas, Downfall is legitimately exciting. I’ve no doubt it’s hard to think and wonder what it’s going to look like when a popcorn machine falls 10 stories. (We at home have the advantage of slow-motion instant replay.) Now imagine if a contestant was competing against somebody else who was also yelling out answers. And imagine if the game kept going, Sale Of The Century-style, rather than taking long breaks after every round. It would take some retooling, but there’s a good game show buried deep in Downfall.
The problem is that primetime TV producers don’t care so much about the game part of game shows anymore. In the case of Downfall, they’re interested in the spectacle, which is actually okay with me. (I like seeing fabulous prizes get smashed on the pavement too, though again, wouldn’t it look cooler in daytime?) But then they hold even that spectacle back, so that we can spend more time with our endlessly fascinating contestants. One clean-cut mom lets slip—purely by accident, I’m sure—that she used to work at Hooters. Isn’t that wild? One regular Joe firefighter chooses “Sexiest Men Alive” as his category. Didn’t expect that, did you folks?
Whatever will they do next? We’ll find out, after the break.
Grade: C-
Stray observations:
–Downfall’s big set with the conveyer belt is kind of old school, I have to admit. Like one of those oversized gadget game shows of the mid-‘70s.
-I think my favorite moments of Downfall involved Chris Jericho leaning in and squinting so that he could read the categories on the big board across the set. Dude’s got an earpiece; couldn’t his producer have fed him the names?
-The second contestant brought along one of his fellow firefighters, named Eric Estada. (Better known as TV’s “Pronch.”)
-The lady who worked at Hooters has two kids. One for each hooter.