Showing posts with label TeeVee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TeeVee. Show all posts

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Gordon Ramsay - Kung Fu** man?


I love reality TV shows. The current fascination in our household is for Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares: USA and UK versions. These two shows share the makeover convention of the reality TV genre, but if there is a game show element in these formats it's the 'this is as real as it gets' competition that is the market in restaurant-trading.

How do you win? Survive. Accumulate.

But how do you survive and accumulate?

As influxus, commenting on a post at sOmetim3s, writes:
I’m thinking about the Ramsay tv franchise Kitchen Nightmares and the operation of its foodie show status in spreading violent meritocracy, military-style discipline and property-makes-right to the scale of small restaurants.


Ramsay has been called a celebrity change-management consultant in a recent review of his US version of Kitchen Nightmares in The Age. Exactly. Having trouble managing? Let Gordon and his (hidden) team give you a make-over, sort out where the (pyschological or physical) blocks are in your enterprise and make it make money for you. Modernize. Flexibilize. Believe. Win.


Ramsay's neoliberalizing of the scloretic practices of restaurants, like Bonapartes in Silsden, West Yorkshire, is presented in the form of a compressed change-management master-class shown on TV. In order to unblock the barriers to success, Gordon sets out to shock chefs, floor managers, owners with stunts and volleys of vulgarity. One effect of these interventions is to humble and humilate those who work in these places. This is part of the perverse pleasure of watching the show. And yet after the Ramsay-fication of Bonapartes, for example, these media vectors of humilation into the Restaurant's owners and staff didn't dissipate. After Ramsay's salutary humbling there is a danger that others in the local community might jump on the vector and follow Ramsay's lead: after all one lesson from Kitchen Nightmares is that to survive in the lean & modish market-place of floggin' food, you can never get above your customers or too up yourself. If anger unblocks the energy of enterprise then the byproduct of humilation is what consume.

In the song Rise, PIL's John Lydon sang 'Anger is an energy'. This post-punk anthem continues a theme and method that Lydon began his punk career with: that anger is means of negating an unlivable situation. And from such a negation new possibilities might emerge. Ramsay too uses anger to beak-down people and systems to first negate then to re-form the psyches of these broken-down people, and their systems, with the techniques of neoliberal rationality. (see Wendy Brown here - pdf)

Ramsay tears down pride, sloth, and nostalgia and in this space inserts a realism about profiting from restaurant trading. So, in place of Chef-pride we get simple, cheap, local cuisine, quickly prepared and simple to serve; for sloth we get efficiency motivation, and flexibility; and for nostalgia, Ramsay modernizes - often through a physical renovation, nearly always through a menu reduction and alteration, and by often changing the restaurant's name.

Is this a spiritual exercise?

A strange question for a TV show that is viewed in-between advertisements for shirts, cars, other TV shows . . . Yet, Ramsay's motivational visits to ailing restaurants are both times for healing and for imparting the wisdom of the way. But mostly I think that Ramsay's is a spiritual practice because of the meme at the end of the British shows: the lights in the Restaurant are still on, it's night and the last guests are filtering out. Ramsay might talk to that spot just to the left of camera, a last minute piece of motivational-reportage, on the pavement. The camera pulls back, Ramsay's back is to us, as he pulls his jacket collar up and walks off, as if once more out into the desert or the urban jungle: walking the lone path of the way.





Gordon Ramsay, Kung Fu man?







Will the road rise with Ramsay? What happens to all the model citizens that Gordon hot-wires? Is there something beyond restaurant-neoliberalism? Is my fascination with these shows healthy?

RISE
(Lydon/Laswell)

I could be wrong
I could be right
I could be wrong

I could be wrong
I could be right
I could be black
I could be white
I could be right
I could be wrong
I could be white
I could be black

Your time has come
Your second skin
The cost so high
The gain so low
Walk through the valley
The written word is a lie

May the road rise with you
May the road rise with you
May the road rise with you

I could be wrong
I could be right
I could be wrong
I could be right

I could be wrong
I could be right
I could be wrong
I could be right
I could be black
I could be white
I could be right
I could be wrong
I could be black
I could be white
They put a hot wire to my head
Cos of the things I did and said
They made these feelings go away
Model citizen in every way

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Jam & Jerusalem


After firstly ignoring Jennifer Saunders' half hour television show - Jam and Jerusalem - because it lacked a laugh track and obvious traces of Saunders-style satire and whimsy (how shallow am I?!), I now find it satisfying.
My initial responses to this show were, surprisingly, in line with what has been the critique, if you can call it that, from Melbourne's Fairfax broadsheet - The Age's - Green Guide. The Green Guide's weekly mixture of review, schedule, new media advertising and information in the form of a lift-out, usually does very nicely for me and Significant Other. Marieke Hardy's colour-pieces are nearly always slanted skewerings of some vapid and valid target in the culture, and Hardy does a wry and arch line in self-deprecation. But we read it mainly for the reviews of free-to-air TV shows and there is often cause to be shat-off with these.
Hardy aside and back to Jam & Jerusalem, it was twice dismissed as sub-standard because Dawn French was both underutilised and there were not enough zinger-funny lines! Another review (not online but in the GG last week) began by rueing the failure of J & J to realise the comedic heights it should, but ends cheering it on because Dawn French's Rosie takes centre stage in the episode under review, and being
the show's major drawcard [reminds us] that this brand of comedy might be a taste worth acquiring
All of which raises the questions: is J & J actually more situation than comedy (as in sit-com), or even more drama than comedy (dramedy)? Why is J & J being reviewed as a failed comedy? How could it not fail if comedy is being measured on the gag-meter?

J & J, successfully I think, celebrates a form of 'village' female community. I live in a sort of village, and I don't think I'm nostalgic for a Sea-Change style community from the perspective of the metropolis (eg BallykissAngel, Hamish McBeth and so on and so forth . . . ). In other words the show affirms community through an ensemble; albeit one led by 'elders' of the Woman's Guild of Clatterford, St Mary. Yes, Dawn French is funny - and as the multiple-personality character of Rosie manages to voice the harsh-truths of a village-idiot-savant. But French's Rosie is part of the ensemble and is not the sole reason for the show's charm.
So, this Village-idiot recommends having a look at J & J. It's gentle portrayal of Guild-life is sorta uplifting. Oh yeah, Jennifer Saunder's upper-middle-class Caroline Martin is a (mild) scream.