Are We in the New Golden Age of Game Shows?
Photo: NBC
There was a time when celebrity game shows had an air of high class. Families would gather around the TV set to see the likes of legendarily ruthless gossip columnist Dorothy Kilgallen and eagle-eyed book publisher Bennett Cerf sit with others, equally resplendent in evening wear and eye masks, as they all attempted to discover which charismatic celebrity had joined them for that week’s installment of What’s My Line?.
This eventually led to star-powered shows that one might have thought frivolous—if you didn’t acknowledge the undercurrent of social change they were pushing into middle-class America’s living rooms. Paul Lynde’s ability to give lispy, catty double entendre answers on the long-running Hollywood Squares (“Who’s generally better looking, a fairy or a pixie?” “Looks aren’t everything.”) was code speak to so many LGBT people, famous or otherwise, who didn’t feel safe enough to come out of the closet. Sanford and Son’s Demond WIlson had a similar tactic, responding in annoyance to any question that played upon African American stereotypes. And Nipsey Russell broke color barriers in 1964 when he joined Missing Links as a regular panelist, becoming the first black performer to do so on a daily game show. He also appeared on programs including Match Game and Password, usually while reciting one of his poems and infusing racial diversity into programming way before it became a talking point for network and studio chiefs.
This mix of the cerebral and the ridiculous, high- and lowbrow, brings us to the present, which—thanks to the scheduling gods overseeing Peak TV—has been a boon to the TV game show. NBC’s Hollywood Game Night, a voyeuristic feast of Celebrities Do the Strangest Things When Supplied with Alcohol, returns this summer, as do ABC’s revivals of classics like Match Game (now with Alec Baldwin holding the skinny microphone) and To Tell the Truth (Anthony Anderson is the official host, but he is frequently upstaged by his mom). CBS and Fox are both trying to make a game show based on mobile phone addictions—Candy Crush premieres July 9 on CBS and Beat Shazam airs Thursdays on Fox. And because the dream of the ’90s is still very much alive, Mike Myers has developed a whole other British persona to embody as host of ABC’s new version of The Gong Show.
On cable, there are shows like Spike’s viral sensation, Lip Sync Battle and Guy Branum’s TruTV series, Talk Show the Game Show. The latter, which premiered this spring, is a recreation of the former Chelsea Lately panelist’s live show, and celebrates the best of both of both mediums as celebrities (or “celebrities”) battle to see who can be the best talk show guest, winning points for name dropping, drinking and storytelling.
The why to this story is two-fold: Game shows are, relatively cheap to make and, when done right, they offer more insight into your favorite star than most late-night talk shows.
“I think we’re the only show of its kind. We’re actually playing games and the celebrities who do show up know that they may have to act like a fool,” Hollywood Game Night host Jane Lynch told Paste and other reporters last fall, after letting us test-run challenges with names like the Pictionary-style “Chest of Drawers” and the sure-to-please-the-censors “Hold My Balls.” “It’s like being in a party atmosphere, and that’s fun for people to watch, because you’re involved in it as well. It’s very interactive, very alive and it’s a lot of fun.”