2008 Woodie Awards
Four Reasons The Apprentice Rocked
Sarah Culp
Issue date: 4/21/04 Section: Arts and Entertainment
Following the finale of the first season of NBC's The Apprentice, here are some ruminations on what helped the show to rise above its reality television kin.
1. The challenges.
I was a faithful viewer of the first two seasons of Survivor. As I was watching the third-season premiere, I suddenly realized what I was seeing: a bunch of ostensibly mature, competent adults, running around a field in Australia trying to push a ten-foot-high rubber ball towards a goal. "This is stupid," I said to my sister, and picked up a magazine. Although I'm watching the show again these days, I still often have trouble with seeing these people struggle with oversized jigsaw puzzles and run obstacle courses. It all just seems so dumb, so arbitrary, and so completely irrelevant.
Which leads us to reason #1 why The Apprentice was so much more fun to watch: the challenges were actually interesting. Most of them required multiple choices by the chosen Project Managers, with real risks that could mean the difference between winning and losing. Witness the fifth-episode flea market challenge, in which one team sold imported Chinese trinkets, while another team decorates their own t-shirts and blouses to sell. Other key decisions included pricing, and location: set up outside in the drizzling rain, or go indoors where there's less traffic, but more comfort? It's real strategy, and at it's best, it's totally engaging.
2. The contestants.
It's hard to complain about reality TV stars being stereotypes, because stereotypical characters are always going to be an implicit part of the genre. But do they always have to be the same stereotype? Witness the current season of The Real World: of the seven stars, three are sorority girls who like to drink and wear revealing clothing, and two are frat guys who like to drink and look at girls wearing revealing clothing. I have no inherent objection to the existence of sororities, fraternities, alcohol, or revealing clothing; but for the love of God, would it be too much trouble to mix this up a bit with the presence of any other personal characteristics? Back in the Boston season, we were given a lumberjack, a lesbian, an outspoken black woman, a Catholic virgin, a journal-scribbling poet, a playa, and a prematurely aging alcoholic. They were mostly dumb, but at least they were different. The show used to be about the dramatic interactions and relationships between a random group of young adults, and now it's about which pretty people will get drunk enough to sleep together this week.
Anyway, one of the nice things about The Apprentice is that the contestants do have varying styles and personalities that can mesh or clash. In the challenge context, this leads to a sort of workplace-gossip-on-hyperdrive dynamic as teams battle and argue over the best way to accomplish the challenge, and usually, one side gets to enjoy either the thrill of victory or the sting of defeat.
3. The bosses.
Trump may be a punchline, but he's also a personality, which definitely helps the show work so well. His fellow overseers, grandfatherly George and intense, insightful Carolyn, were also well-chosen. But in a broader context, the mere concept of including outside sources to offer direction and commentary is brilliant. Watching all this intra-team activity and discussion can become very claustrophobic, especially when either nobody seems to realize how one particular person is being horrible or they seem to feel powerless to stop it.
But Trump is a breath of fresh air, because he never has any reason not to tell the contestants exactly what he thinks. He told Omarosa her behavior was repulsive, he told Tammy she was obnoxious, and he told Sam that he was sunk. Even if the comment's recipient was too dumb to realize it was an insult, each jab was a perfect channeling of the viewers' sentiments. Trump does no Probst-style dancing around the issue; he and his cohorts just say what everybody wants to.
And the icing on the cake is that this is one of the very few reality shows where a contestant's ejection does not depend on the voting of his fellow contestants, so we can leave behind all the tiresome alliances and power-plays. The contestant interaction can still make a difference in the game, but when it comes down to it, Trump ditches the people who deserve to be ditched. My only fear is that in future seasons, after seeing the uproar caused by the less-competent contestants, he becomes inclined to keep them around longer than others who are more deserving. Please don't mess with your modus operandi, Donald.
4. The prize.
We've become accustomed to the million-dollar prize on reality shows, and it's become pretty dull, especially since everybody's aware that half of that gets chopped right up for taxes. You certainly won't be able to parlay your win into any other kind of success; in two years, nobody will remember your name or your face.
That's the final reason why The Apprentice is so cool: you don't just win a lump sum, you win a career. In theory, anyway. You're winning an opportunity to leapfrog over your competitors to an incredibly high-profile position you could easily parlay into an extremely nice lifestyle. It's jumping ten squares ahead in the Game of Life. The Apprentice isn't the first show to use this kind of prize model, but the first to apply it to business, where a one-time embedding can set you up for generations.
The second season of The Apprentice will debut either late this year or early 2005. Here's hoping that when it does, it'll retain everything that made it great while staying fresh and fascinating.
1. The challenges.
I was a faithful viewer of the first two seasons of Survivor. As I was watching the third-season premiere, I suddenly realized what I was seeing: a bunch of ostensibly mature, competent adults, running around a field in Australia trying to push a ten-foot-high rubber ball towards a goal. "This is stupid," I said to my sister, and picked up a magazine. Although I'm watching the show again these days, I still often have trouble with seeing these people struggle with oversized jigsaw puzzles and run obstacle courses. It all just seems so dumb, so arbitrary, and so completely irrelevant.
Which leads us to reason #1 why The Apprentice was so much more fun to watch: the challenges were actually interesting. Most of them required multiple choices by the chosen Project Managers, with real risks that could mean the difference between winning and losing. Witness the fifth-episode flea market challenge, in which one team sold imported Chinese trinkets, while another team decorates their own t-shirts and blouses to sell. Other key decisions included pricing, and location: set up outside in the drizzling rain, or go indoors where there's less traffic, but more comfort? It's real strategy, and at it's best, it's totally engaging.
2. The contestants.
It's hard to complain about reality TV stars being stereotypes, because stereotypical characters are always going to be an implicit part of the genre. But do they always have to be the same stereotype? Witness the current season of The Real World: of the seven stars, three are sorority girls who like to drink and wear revealing clothing, and two are frat guys who like to drink and look at girls wearing revealing clothing. I have no inherent objection to the existence of sororities, fraternities, alcohol, or revealing clothing; but for the love of God, would it be too much trouble to mix this up a bit with the presence of any other personal characteristics? Back in the Boston season, we were given a lumberjack, a lesbian, an outspoken black woman, a Catholic virgin, a journal-scribbling poet, a playa, and a prematurely aging alcoholic. They were mostly dumb, but at least they were different. The show used to be about the dramatic interactions and relationships between a random group of young adults, and now it's about which pretty people will get drunk enough to sleep together this week.
Anyway, one of the nice things about The Apprentice is that the contestants do have varying styles and personalities that can mesh or clash. In the challenge context, this leads to a sort of workplace-gossip-on-hyperdrive dynamic as teams battle and argue over the best way to accomplish the challenge, and usually, one side gets to enjoy either the thrill of victory or the sting of defeat.
3. The bosses.
Trump may be a punchline, but he's also a personality, which definitely helps the show work so well. His fellow overseers, grandfatherly George and intense, insightful Carolyn, were also well-chosen. But in a broader context, the mere concept of including outside sources to offer direction and commentary is brilliant. Watching all this intra-team activity and discussion can become very claustrophobic, especially when either nobody seems to realize how one particular person is being horrible or they seem to feel powerless to stop it.
But Trump is a breath of fresh air, because he never has any reason not to tell the contestants exactly what he thinks. He told Omarosa her behavior was repulsive, he told Tammy she was obnoxious, and he told Sam that he was sunk. Even if the comment's recipient was too dumb to realize it was an insult, each jab was a perfect channeling of the viewers' sentiments. Trump does no Probst-style dancing around the issue; he and his cohorts just say what everybody wants to.
And the icing on the cake is that this is one of the very few reality shows where a contestant's ejection does not depend on the voting of his fellow contestants, so we can leave behind all the tiresome alliances and power-plays. The contestant interaction can still make a difference in the game, but when it comes down to it, Trump ditches the people who deserve to be ditched. My only fear is that in future seasons, after seeing the uproar caused by the less-competent contestants, he becomes inclined to keep them around longer than others who are more deserving. Please don't mess with your modus operandi, Donald.
4. The prize.
We've become accustomed to the million-dollar prize on reality shows, and it's become pretty dull, especially since everybody's aware that half of that gets chopped right up for taxes. You certainly won't be able to parlay your win into any other kind of success; in two years, nobody will remember your name or your face.
That's the final reason why The Apprentice is so cool: you don't just win a lump sum, you win a career. In theory, anyway. You're winning an opportunity to leapfrog over your competitors to an incredibly high-profile position you could easily parlay into an extremely nice lifestyle. It's jumping ten squares ahead in the Game of Life. The Apprentice isn't the first show to use this kind of prize model, but the first to apply it to business, where a one-time embedding can set you up for generations.
The second season of The Apprentice will debut either late this year or early 2005. Here's hoping that when it does, it'll retain everything that made it great while staying fresh and fascinating.
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