Tim Goodman , TV previewer of The San Francisco Chronicle is clearly a fan of Elvis. Previewing The Simple Life , a new Fox Tv series , he had this to say about the show`s star , Paris Hilton -
`As I watched "The Simple Life," I was reminded of some lyrics by Elvis Costello, from a song that cleverly took to task a pinup girl, using a popular cultural reference at the time of the album -- Madonna: "You're somebody's daughter, you know/ Or is that immaterial girl?"
OK, so the crimes of Paris (wink) are enough to make a father pray his daughter turns out, um, differently.`
Loveliness of Paris seems sadly vacuous
Tim Goodman
Monday, December 1, 2003
©2003 San Francisco Chronicle
The Simple Life: 8:30 p.m. Tuesday on Fox (episode two airs at 8:30 p.m. Wednesday).
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There is strange good fortune at Fox, which has Paris Hilton, the celebutante and home-sex-movie practitioner, all lined up for television's first hotly anticipated midseason show. The hype couldn't be hotter. Paris involved in porn. And her partner in rich-girl excess, Nicole Richie, slipping into heroin rehab. In the TV business, unless we're talking about Dan Rather, this makes executives giddy. It's a promo orgasm.
"The Simple Life," premiering Tuesday, features these two young women being plucked from Beverly Hills -- where neither has ever had a job in her life -- and dropped into rural Arkansas to live with the dumbstruck Leding family on their farm. Yes, it's a real-life "Green Acres."
In all likelihood, it will be a smash hit.
Ah, but it wasn't always so simple. Back in July, at the TV critics press tour, as Fox was promoting "The Simple Life" almost as an afterthought to its fall programming, Fox really had to drum up interest among critics just to show up to the session about the show. Here, verbatim, is what I was told after responding in lukewarm fashion to the idea of watching Hilton prattle on about a series that wasn't scheduled until deep into the season:
"We're just hoping she's wearing underwear."
Feeling a duty to Chronicle readers, I went.
She was wearing underwear.
Two weeks ago, I got sent an e-mail link to a photo of Hilton getting out of her car. She is not, very clearly, wearing underwear. (And save yourself the effort: No, I'm not forwarding it to you.)
What happened in the press session for "The Simple Life" is now a tiny slice of network lore. After showing a short preview reel, which sent the assembled critics into raucous laughter -- and then witnessing the interview session, where the laughs increased and critics sat slack-jawed listening to the verbal stupidity of this duo -- Fox quickly and prudently changed gears and moved "The Simple Life" into Position A as a midseason replacement.
You might think this little introduction brings us nicely to the merits of the series -- which are many -- if you're impatient. But you'd be wrong.
It brings us instead to another anecdote, from a colleague who passed along that a male friend -- who recently had a daughter -- came up with this gem:
"He said his main job as a father now is to keep her off the pole."
That's a stripper pole, for those of you who are not apoplectically frightened fathers of young girls living in the modern world. After Tuesday, said fathers can amend their goal thus: "My main job as father is to keep her from becoming Paris Hilton."
Yes, she's that scary.
In fact, the biggest question for discerning viewers after "The Simple Life" premieres is not "What were the ratings?" or "Have you ever seen anyone dumber in your entire life?" No, it's either one or both of these: "Shouldn't you have access to great education if you're rich?" and "How is it possible that the Hilton family could raise not one, but two, smart-challenged girls?"
Yes, inexplicably, Nicky Hilton's Frisbee is also on the roof.
I suppose there will be much critical yammering about "The Simple Life," which is, in fact, almost too perfect to go wrong. It's stunning in that kind of modern way where people have no qualms about getting in front of a camera without a filter. And so here we are, who knows how many degrees of separation from Ava Gabor, and there's Paris vamping it up with her milelong legs and blond hair, pouting into the camera at every opportunity as if, well, as if she doesn't know any better.
Before we see her in Arkansas, we glimpse her in Beverly Hills, where she's famous for being famous and rich -- the little party girl who could, and would. Her parents, who, it should be assumed, indulged this as they must have indulged her proclivity to skip homework, are seen wishing her well. At a swanky party for 100 other white people. She flies off in a helicopter.
Next stop, Arkansas. Let the social-class exploration of the Fox Broadcasting network begin. And so it does, with hilarious, if predictable, results. Paris and Nicole are caviar out of water in Arkansas. They have no money, no credit cards, no cell phones. They have to survive for 30 days on the Leding family farm. The two Leding boys, Justin and Cayne -- and later all their male friends -- stare transfixed at all the beauty that Fifth Avenue makeup can muster.
"The Simple Life" is a one-note joke, but it's a good one. It has the benefit of being "Green Acres" but true. When the family talks about Wal-Mart, Paris has no clue it's a store. "Do they sell stuff for your walls?"
Forced to do chores for the first time ever, the duo go grocery shopping. "What does generic mean?" Paris asks.
The girls will get into all kinds of scary socioeconomic shockers as the series unfolds. They get a job on a dairy and muse about minimum wage. Their first task -- after arriving at 7 a.m., an hour late -- is to wake up the cows. "Who knew you could wake up a cow with a bell?" Paris asks.
Who, indeed.
Paris and Nicole botch that job and get fired. But they earn $42. "At least give us $50," Nicole says disgustedly.
Later it looks as if they will lose other jobs, annoy their host family, possibly seduce one of the sons, terrorize the town and give viewers exactly what they might expect, but with that little extra Paris something or other.
The beauty in all of this is that if you look at it just slightly from the side, you might surmise that she's kidding, playing up the dumb angle.
But that only makes you sleep better. In fact, she's not pretending at anything other than life itself.
As I watched "The Simple Life," I was reminded of some lyrics by Elvis Costello, from a song that cleverly took to task a pinup girl, using a popular cultural reference at the time of the album -- Madonna: "You're somebody's daughter, you know/ Or is that immaterial girl?"
OK, so the crimes of Paris (wink) are enough to make a father pray his daughter turns out, um, differently. My 3-year-old daughter, not privy to the Hilton fortune, attends the wonderful Hearts Leap School in Berkeley, and, like most wonderful schools, it needs cash.
So your friendly neighborhood TV critic will host a benefit bash on Thursday at the hippest movie house going, the Parkway Speakeasy Theater in Oakland. You may remember that the Parkway Speakeasy is home of the famous Baby Brigade, where nursing mothers can enjoy getting out of the house and actually seeing a movie and having a life.
Oh, and they serve beer and pizza there. And they just got some new couches.
Our "TV Hootenanny" will feature some "from the vault" screenings, a live "TV 101" Q&A session (where I'll be able to tell you the TV stories I can't print here, if you ask politely), a silent auction and a cheesy free raffle, where you'll probably get some worthless TV swag that you'll turn around and sell on EBay for real money.
There are two shows, 6:30 and 9:15 p.m. First show, $10. Late show, $8. The Parkway Speakeasy Theater (www.picturepubpizza.com) is at 1834 Park Blvd., about a quarter-mile west off the Park Boulevard exit on 580.
Come on out, have a beer and a slice, watch a little TV, ask a couple of questions and have some fun. Nursing moms and their babes are welcome, especially at the first show. Let's make sure the little girls (and boys) of Hearts Leap School learn that it's never OK to be on a reality TV show.
E-mail Tim Goodman at tgoodman@sfchronicle.com. He can be heard at 8:30 a.m. every Monday on the "KFOG Morning Show," 104.5 FM.
©2003 San Francisco Chronicle