ASIAN POP - No Pain, No Game
Japanese-style game shows are popping up all over the tube, thanks to the successes of ABC’s “Wipeout” and “I Survived a Japanese Game Show.” With its slapstick humor and no holds barred approach, the Japanese-style game show appeals to Americans because of its instant entertainment value. According to the executive producer of the new show “Hole in the Wall,” these types of shows cater to the needs of information-overloaded Americans, by supplying them with a short, but sweet dose of comedic relief. Read
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Behind the Mask: The Jabbawockeez, America’s Best Dance Crew
Four months ago, MTV’s Randy Jackson Presents: America’s Best Dance Crew named the Jabbawockeez the best crew of the season. Consisting of seven Asian Americans, an African American and two Mexican Americans, the Jabbawockeez wear masks when they perform so as to be seen as a single unit and not be judged individually on race or social status. But behind the mask, the Asian Americans of the group are proud of their heritage and excited to shed some light onto a different side of Asian Americans. Read
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ASIAN POP - No Pain, No Game
With the breakout success of ABC's "Wipeout" and "I Survived a Japanese Game Show," U.S. airwaves are about to be deluged with a veritable tsunami of Japanese-style game shows.
No one would ever call the television staple commonly referred to as the game show "subtle." It is, after all, a genre that gleefully deconstructs television into a handful of cardinal sins: envy, greed, and occasionally, lust.
But the difference between inane and sublime is in many ways a matter of scale. That's why a genre that plays as crass in America -- Big money! Big money! -- has evolved into something like performance art in Japan, where the full-frontal game show experience pulls no punches in the quest to entertain (especially not the ones aimed directly at the crotch).
"There's a gloves-off mentality in Japanese game shows," says Stuart Krasnow, executive producer of FremantleMedia's forthcoming "Hole in the Wall," which has a 13-episode order from Fox. "Most Americans have a complete sense of ennui with TV now, and the Japanese approach just grabs people's attention. That's why networks and studios are snapping up Japanese formats as quickly as they can.
The way has been paved by ABC's debut of a pair of "Japanese-style" programs -- the punishing obstacle-course challenge "Wipeout" and the game show/reality TV hybrid "I Survived a Japanese Game Show," whose back-to-back airings on Tuesdays have allowed the network to handily win the night among viewers in the coveted 18 to 49 demographic.
Neither show is an adaptation of an actual Japanese game show: "Wipeout" is inspired by televised gauntlets such as "Sasuke" (seen here on G4 as "Ninja Warrior") and "Takeshi's Castle" (broadcast with satirical voiceovers as SpikeTV's "MXC"); "I Survived," meanwhile, is an original concept created by maverick Danish producing team Babyfoot, best known for its "Queer Eye" meets "Boot Camp" reality show "Gay Army."
But both programs offer a taste of what viewers have come to expect out of Japanese TV competitions, which is to say, weird stunts, slapstick humor and bone-crushing physical abuse. And their success has cleared the way for a slew of more authentic fare to follow.
Wall Busters
FremantleMedia's "Hole in the Wall" is a game-show-ized adaptation of a recurring segment from Fuji TV's '80s-era variety show "Tonneruzu no Minasan no Okage deshita" ("Thanks Everybody from 'Tunnels'"). The segment pitted the show's hosts, the comedy duo Tunnels, and a string of Spandex-clad celebrity guests against a Styrofoam wall that, if not evaded by twisting one's body into the shape of a quirky cutout, sent players hurtling into a moat behind them.
What gives the producers hope for the U.S. version is that clips of the Japanese original and editions airing in 15 other countries have already been viewed millions of times on YouTube. "I'd like to take the opportunity to thank the Internet for my job," laughs Krasnow. "Now that everyone and their grandma has net access, you're seeing pop culture shared from places all around the world. Twenty-five million people have already checked out this show virally in the U.S., and that's an incredible head start."
"Hole in the Wall"'s structure is perfect for web video. Each human-versus-barrier challenge runs less than a minute, making it an intense nugget of comic action with a near-instant payoff. "Don't sell it short, though -- there's a lot going on in that 30-second bite," says Krasnow. "Think of it as a comedy in three parts: First the wall is revealed, with its funny cutout shape, and that gets a laugh. Then there's the deer-in-the-headlights look of panic on the contestant. And then, there's the moment of impact, where the player either gets through the hole or smashes into the wall. You can see the whole thing play out on people's faces -- you don't even need to turn up the volume."
Another advantage of "Hole in the Wall," says Krasnow, is that it plays to the needs of today's overscheduled viewing audience: "This show matches the zeitgeist. Once upon a time, people would tune in to shows like 'Dallas' every week, and they'd wait with bated breath to find out who killed J.R., but that's just too much of a commitment for people now. These days we're just looking for a break. We want a very easy-to-watch, knee-jerk experience that gets us away from the Blackberry for a few minutes."
AD-HDTV
Veteran producer Vin di Bona knows the appeal of short-attention-span theater better than anyone. Long before YouTube existed, he turned bite-sized slapstick into the "America's Funniest Home Videos" franchise, now seen in 40 countries around the globe. What few people realize is that AFHV was, itself, adapted from a Japanese variety program called "Fun TV with Kato-chan and Ken-chan." "Most of it was pretty typical: Dancing, singing, interviews, blackout skits," says di Bona. "But it also had segments where they broadcast hilarious home videos. And my instinct was, dump everything else, and keep the videos." Di Bona's guts proved dead-on: next year, AFHV celebrates its 20th anniversary on the air.
Now, di Bona thinks he's found another winning flash from Japan, a show that replicates AFHV's viral format and quick-hit slapstick focus, but steps up the creativity factor to a startling new level. "Masquerade" (Kinchan no Kasou Taishou in Japan) features teams of amateurs using home-made costumes and sets -- and the techniques of Bunraku puppetry -- to create lo-fi renditions of movie special effects. (Think a "Matrix-style" ping-pong match, or a messy food fight played out in slow motion, then "rewound."
The show has aired on Nippon TV twice a year since 1979, making it Japan's longest-running prime-time program, and one of its most popular: An estimated 40 percent of Japan's viewing public tunes in to see it. The question, of course, is whether there are enough Americans willing to step up to the show's challenge to flesh out a regular weekly series.
"You'd be surprised," says di Bona. "In 'America's Funniest,' when we challenge viewers to send us video on a specific topic, we get over 5,000 responses a show. We asked for funny ways to crack an egg, and the one that blew us away showed a 757 taxiing toward the camera until the front wheel rolls right up to an egg and cracks it. That's how resourceful the American public can be."
Big Money, Big Money
But in the U.S., tremendous resourcefulness demands tremendous resources. While fame has its allure -- "never underestimate the desire for Americans to get on TV," jokes di Bona -- the bottom line in American game shows is still the bottom line.
"In Japan, contestants play for pride," says Stuart Krasnow. "In America, however, pride has to be followed by a paycheck. If there's anything that reality shows have taught us, it's that Americans will do anything for a chance at $250,000."
Anything? In the long-running "13-nin-gakari no Za Gaman," teams of young people competed in torture tests that included being strapped upside down to the spinning wheel of a paddleboat, being buried up to their necks in sand with steaks strapped to their heads while surrounded by hungry monitor lizards, and doing headstands on sizzling metal plates while having their nipples burnt by the magnified rays of the sun.
In "Hako Otoko," or "Box Man," a man was locked in a wheeled crate containing nothing but a toilet, a straw mat and a keyboard connected to an LED display. To be allowed out, the "box man" had to use the display to convince random passersby to push the box from his starting point in Kagoshima to the ultimate destination of Tokyo -- a total of 932 miles -- while also begging them to provide him with food and water. It took seven months for him to finally win his release.
Most famously, in "Nasubi" (actually another season of "Denpa Shonen," the show that later featured the Box Man), a man known to the world only as "Eggplant" (nasubi) was sealed in a room naked, without food, entertainment or personal products, and forced to submit postcard after postcard to mail-away sweepstakes to sustain himself. Only when he'd won one million yen in prizes would he be let go, the producers told him. Seventeen months later, he reached his goal, and was taken, blindfolded, to the "Denpa Shonen" TV studio, where his hairy, naked, malnourished self was unveiled to the cheering live audience and to the over 17 million viewers who'd watched his every move for a year and a half.
Crazy stuff? Sure. But maybe not quite as crazy when one realizes that the "contestants" in these shows aren't amateurs, but comedians and performers drawn from Japan's seemingly limitless ranks of tarento -- "talent." While the games are potentially dangerous and certainly uncomfortable, the participants know what they're getting into (the scope if not the specifics), and are doing it for the sake of entertainment. It's crazy, but at least it's...professionally crazy.
And that's the biggest difference between the two television cultures, notes Tim Crescenti, founder of Small World IFT, the television consultancy that brokered the sales of "I Survived..." and "Masquerade": In American reality TV, amateurs subject themselves to torture and humiliation to win huge prizes. In Japan, professional entertainers subject themselves to torture and humiliation to provide catharsis for the masses. "Because the contestants are generally celebrities, and the prizes are minimal" -- the legal prize cap in Japan is about $20,000 -- "you have this situation where participants aren't playing to win, they're playing not to lose. And when they do lose, they lose in as big and funny a way as possible. There's no mean-spiritedness, no real humiliation; people aren't emotionally scarred when the program's over. Maybe physically scarred. But everyone who participates just sees it as simple, goofy fun."
POPMAIL
Long before this current wave of Japanese-style game shows, there was a program called "Banzai," produced by the U.K.'s RDF Media group. Like "Wipeout" and "I Survived a Japanese Game Show," it was an homage to Japanese TV competitions, not an adaptation of an existing show; unlike those two programs, it had no real "contestants" and no way to "win." What it offered instead were a series of elaborately staged stunts-grannies playing "chicken" with motorized wheelchairs, Page 3 bimbos shooting helium-filled blow-up dolls with airguns, midgets racing to climb to the shoulders of a seven-foot basketball player -- with home viewers encouraged to bet on the outcome.
The stunts were inventive and sometimes amusing, especially the ones involving celebrities; recurring segments featured correspondents Mr. Shake Hands Man, who approached celebrities at red-carpet events and attempted to shake hands with them for as long as possible (Kelsey Grammer submitted to a 40-second shake; Angelina Jolie to a 68-second grip) and Lady One Question, who after getting the attention of various stars would ask them a single inane question, then stare at them as they squirmed in discomfort (Simon Cowell, asked what the difference was between American Idol and British Idol, stood awkwardly waiting for a follow-up for 77 seconds before leaving in disgust).
However, when brought to the U.S. by Fox in 2003, the show was lambasted by Asian-American media activists, who called it an "Asian minstrel show" full of "demeaning stereotypes." In actuality, anyone comparing "Banzai" to the Japanese originals it sought to copy would find the show's depictions toned down from the personas of actual Japanese owarai geinin (comedy performers) -- something made more obvious by today's YouTube era, where the shows can be essentially be seen side by side.
Still, in a time when Asian faces on TV were few and far between, it was unquestionably disconcerting that the wacky caricatures on "Banzai" were among the only Asians on primetime. The question now: Have things changed enough for "Banzai" to be evaluated on its own merits?
Adam Ware, the newly hired CEO of iaTV (formerly known as ImaginAsian), thinks so. "I loved 'Banzai,'" he says. "When it came out, I saw it as spoofing Japanese game shows, not mocking Asians. In fact, if it's making fun of anyone, it's non-Asians and celebrities -- they're the ones who are being forced to do all of these silly stunts. And I know we're going to get heat on this, but the show's hilarious, and if there's any time we could put in on the air and any place we could air it, it's now and it's here."
"Banzai" is a core part of Ware's edgy strategy to reinvent the last Asian American channel standing, by giving it -- perhaps for the first Time -- a distinct personality and target demographic. "To me, this channel is about urban youth culture -- it should stand side by side with MTV," Ware says. "Asian pop is a dynamic part of the youth experience. It comes from a unique place, with specific meaning to Asian Americans, but it has a broader appeal. It's the Nintendo Wii. It's 'Kung Fu Panda.' It's Japanese game shows. That's the play here. We're not just the first 24-hour channel for Asian Americans, but for Asian pop culture."
Some of Ware's programming choices will shock some viewers with more staid sensibilities -- think sexy anime, a show called "Chix Kix Flix" that interweaves clips of kung fu films into a narrative about a trio of bikini-clad superheroes, and mixed martial arts -- but not that everything he's throwing into the iaTV blender aims at the lowest common denominator. He's carved out blocks for quality movies and documentaries, and discovered a fresh new talent -- willowy former K-pop star Sara Sohn -- to anchor a weekly personality-driven program called "The Popper."
"Hey, if there was ever a time to take chances, now is it," he says. "No one wants to go out on a limb once they're successful, because they have too much to lose. Luckily, we don't have that problem right now -- so let's just go for it. What's there to be worried about? At least we took a shot."
It's too early still to see how the mix is going to evolve, or whether viewers and advertisers will respond. But it's clear that at least it won't be bland, boring ... or beige. And that, perhaps, is why it just might work.
Jeff Yang forecasts global consumer trends for the market-research company Iconoculture (www.iconoculture.com). He is the author of "Once Upon a Time in China: A Guide to the Cinemas of Hong Kong, Taiwan and Mainland China," co-author of "I Am Jackie Chan: My Life in Action" and "Eastern Standard Time," and editor of the forthcoming "Secret Identities: The Asian American Superhero Anthology" (www.secretidentities.org). He lives in New York City. Go to http://altreviews.com/cgi-bin/dada/mail.cgi to join INSTANT YANG, Jeff Yang's biweekly mailing list offering updates on this column and alerts about other breaking Asian / Asian American pop-culture news, or connect with him on Facebook, LinkedIn, or Twitter:http://twitter.com/originalspin
Behind the Mask: The Jabbawockeez, America's Best Dance Crew
By: Marie-Lorraine Mallare,Jul 09, 2008
Asian Week
SAN JOSE, Calif. - Proclaimed America’s best dance crew on the first season of MTV’s Randy Jackson Presents: America’s Best Dance Crew, the Jabbawockeez are now touring through the United States and Asia, doing what they do best - dancing.
Since winning the show in March, the dance crew has been booked solid to perform all over North America and Asia. Even with upcoming performances in New Jersey, Canada, Hawai‘i, Reno, Guam and Malaysia, stardom has not changed these young performers at all. In fact, performing to an audience of millions was not too different from performing to their local fans at showcases in San Diego and Los Angeles, they say.
“Competing in America’s Best Dance Crew was just another performance,” Jeff “Phi” Nguyen said. “It didn’t really hit us until we saw our clips on YouTube. It was surreal, but it feels good and it’s a blessing."
Now they have more requests to perform, and they’re performing to standing room-only crowds. Approximately 1,400 fans showed up at Vivid Nightclub in San Jose to see them perform on July 4 with San Jose DJ group FingerBangerz. “The Jabbawockeez and the FingerBangerz are family, and since July 4 is about family get-togethers, this is the best way to celebrate,” said Nick Ngo, a member of the FingerBangerz.
Kevin Brewer and Joe Larot formed the Jabbawockeez in 2003 by reaching out to their friends within the dance community that had the same outlook on dance and life. The crew grew over the next few years to be 11 members strong, with Phil Tayag, Gary Kendell, Rynan Paguio, Randy Bernal, Eddie Gutierrez, Saso Jimenez, Ben Chung, Chris Gatdula and Jeff Nguyen.
Their name was inspired by Lewis Carroll’s poem, “Jabberwocky."
“A Jabberwocky is a mystical, dragon-like creature who roams the king’s forest, and that’s what the Jabbawockeez are, mystical and free,” Paguio said.
Kendell, the eldest of the crew, passed away in 2007 from meningitis. Today, the crew attributes their success and style to him.
“We were just representing Gary,” said Nguyen of their performances on America’s Best Dance Crew.
The crew credits Kendell as their inspiration and the force that drives each member. “The Jabbawockeez are 10 members, and one is spiritual,” Paguio said. “He was the glue that really held us together in the beginning, making sure we didn’t lose sight of this unique thing we were creating."
Members of the crew are scattered across California and Nevada, but because of their close ties to one another, they are able to intuit and work in choreography changes easily. Nguyen said they meet only a few days before a performance to practice all together.
There is no team leader; every member has a vision of the Jabbawockeez and expresses it during rehearsals. Each member taught dance classes and workshops before, so each brings a unique flair to the choreography, which is hip-hop with styles of B-boying, popping, locking and freestyling.
“We call it ‘Beat Kundo,’ an art form derived from Bruce Lee’s philosophy with movement and interceptive beats,” Paguio said.
Each performs wearing a white mask. “The idea of the mask is to remove all ethnic and social barriers when we perform” Gutierrez said.
“Those who watch us will see us for the dance moves and the style we put out there,” Bernal added.
Masks aside, the crew embraces their ethnic backgrounds (seven members are Asian American, including Filipino American, Korean American and Vietnamese American; one is African American and two are Mexican American).
“The fact that the guys still speak their ethnic languages is a testament that they haven’t lost their heritage,” said the crew’s manager, Audie Vergara.
Chris Gatdula explained that growing up Asian American meant their parents expected them to follow the traditional route of higher education and professional careers. “A lot of our parents expected us to get a college degree, make $50K, get a traditional career, like become a doctor, a nurse, an engineer,” he said. “But young Asian Americans like us look at the world differently. Dancing, once viewed as a past-time activity, is actually an artistic form of expression and is a career."
Gatdula hopes that by winning the show the crew has shown “all parents across America that it is an accomplishment, and they may be inclined to push their kids to do something artistic."
Nguyen said it’s also a matter of representing a different, more creative side of Asian Americans. “There is an artistic side to us - we’re Americanized, and we’re fourth and fifth generations in America,” he said.
Fans of the Jabbawockeez are not only Asian American, but include people of all walks of life and ages, from elder professionals to the young, urban hip-hopper. “It really amazes me when I see how many different types of people can relate to us,” Paguio said. “We’re so thankful that they are seeing us perform."
For more information on the Jabbawockeez
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