Deal Or Big, Fat, Hairy Deal

It's official. The "Dumbing Down Of America" has reached a new nadir (or, if something negative becomes even more effective, does it reach a zenith?).

"Deal or No Deal" premiered last night.

Imagine a game show where the contestant has no need to even be conscious during the game play. That's "Deal or No Deal". It's the American version of a game created in the land of Heineken, legal hashish and storefront-window prostitutes, the combination of which would explain the brain-dead popularity of the concept. If you ever thought "Wheel of Fortune" was too intellectually challenging, "Deal or No Deal" is the game for you.

I watched the premiere on a television set, with the sound off. From across the room. While I was sitting in a local restaurant, where the Wife and I were having dinner with another couple. And I still knew everything that was going on.

In case you haven't watched NBC in the past few weeks (meaning you've missed their three-times-hourly promos for the show), "Deal or No Deal" is hosted by ... Howie Mandel. (Remember, the comedian who made Carrot Top look intellectual? The one who would pull a latex glove over his head and inflate it by exhaling through his nose? The guy who made one pine for the good ol' days of Gallagher? That's Howie.)

Howie Mandel. Now, if that doesn't already tell you everything you need to know about this show, go do some Sudoku puzzles and work on your logic skills. Apparently no other game show hosts were available. (What is Bob Eubanks up to these days, anyway? But I digress.)

A contestant comes on the high-tech stage, facing 26 gorgeous models straight out of the Miss Teen USA pageant (or more likely, straight out of Bambi's Boobie Bar). Each model has an aluminum briefcase. The briefcases contain a money amount from one cent up to $1 million. The player picks one briefcase, which is set down next to the contestant, but not opened. (So far, this sounds kind of like that old Chuck Barris show, The New Treasure Hunt, doesn't it?)

That ... um ... is pretty much the whole game. It takes two minutes. The rest of the hour is taken up with the contestant having the models open up the briefcases she didn't pick. The theory is that, if the million dollars is not in one of the other briefcases, it might be in hers.

So, just to annoy people, this game has found a way to work a cell phone into the proceedings. Yes, a cell phone. Every so often, the phone lights up and rings, and Howie ends up talking to a "Banker" who tries to buy the briefcase back from the contestant. If more high-dollar figures have been taken out of play, the briefcase isn't likely to contain as much and the banker will offer less. If the small money has been eliminated, the briefcase likely contains more and the banker will offer more.

Howie passes along the offer to the contestant and then, with all the gravitas and suspense he can muster, asks the player: "DEAL ... OR NO DEAL?"

This goes on until one of three things happen:

• The player accepts the deal and wins the amount of the offer.
• The player opens ALL the freakin' briefcases and wins the amount in hers.
• The viewer throws a brick through the TV screen.

Now, in case the show wasn't annoying enough, the contestant gets to have three supporters on stage with her. In the first episode, the player's husband spent the hour nervously dancing around on stage like "Gene Gene The Dancing Machine" (another Chuck Barris reference) while Howie cracked jokes. As I indicated, the sound was off, but I still found myself expecting Howie to whip out the latex glove and put it on his head.

Oh, I nearly forgot: Apart from "DEAL ... OR NO DEAL?", there are no other decisions for the player to make. You do not have to phrase your response in the form of a question. You do not have to buy a vowel. You do not have to bid the closest to the actual retail price without going over. In other words, if you are capable of picking a number from 1 to 26, but have no other skills whatsoever, you are capable of playing this game.

Now, if you want to try playing "Deal or No Deal" yourself, NBC has helpfully provided a Flash version of the game on their website. It takes about sixty seconds to play. The TV show takes about an hour. That pretty much sums up the amount of filler in this show.

Critics' opinions of the show are divided. The Boston Globe, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, and the Hollywood Reporter believe "Deal or No Deal" sucks, while the New York Post, Variety, and the Hartford Courant (what's a "courant"?) think the show merely stinks.

The producers of this show also produce "Fear Factor". Kind of tells you everything you need to know, doesn't it?

(And we wonder why so many people think Dubya is doing a good job ...)