Ijust don`t get it. Unless, of course, the secret word is ego or workaholism.
What other explanation is there for Bill Cosby`s resurrection of the tired old format of ”You Bet Your Life” and the decision to make himself the host?
In his debut performance on the syndicated program, Cosby does nothing whatever to make us forget the snap and sass of the show`s first host, Groucho Marx, and goes a dangerously long way toward making us forget that he, Cosby, is a talented standup comic and the force behind one of the most successful and influential TV series in history.
”You Bet Your Life,” which will air at 3:30 p.m. weekdays on WBBM-Ch. 2 starting Monday, is a game show in name only. There are undoubtedly vast numbers of viewers unversed in the particulars of the original, which ran from 1950 to `61, or of the short-lived Buddy Hackett version in 1990.
The rules are simple; only the prize money and the bird have been changed. Three pairs of contestants appear consecutively and are given $750 and are allowed to bet any portion of that on their ability to answer three questions. The couple with the highest total returns at the end of the show has a chance to answer one question for a possible $10,000 payoff.
In each program, there is a ”secret word” that, if spoken by any contestant, prompts a fancy black goose puppet to drop from the rafters with $500 in his beak for the person uttering the word. (That seems a rather paltry sum, given that four decades ago Groucho`s duck toted $100.)
But it`s not the questions or answers that really matter. It`s the patter-between the contestants and Cosby. The questions are easy: ”What is the one-word title of the movie in which Dustin Hoffman cross-dresses for success?” (Real game show fans will stick with that paragon of the form,
”Jeopardy!” which airs opposite Cosby on WLS-Ch. 7.)
In Thursday`s Tribune, Cosby told Kenneth Clark that he sees his role on the show as that of ”trapeze catcher. I`m the one who swings back and forth, hanging upside down, waiting for the other artist to do the 1 1/2 or the triple, then I catch him.”
The other ”artists” he`s referring to are the contestants, a group carefully culled from about 300,000 who interviewed for the opportunity.
If those in the premiere are any indication, the parade will be one of people with strange jobs (a female security guard in the women`s washroom at Philadelphia`s Spectrum sports arena and a male submarine sailor), weird stories, or lively personalities (one fellow danced around like a moonwalking robot).
Cosby`s ability to conversationally engage, play straight man-and, yes, take advantage of his contestants` peculiarities-is not in question. He`s quick. But whether the audience will care to witness this forced repartee is another matter. It has the feel and look of a small-town morning talk show.
As the show starts, Robbi Chong, the pretty female assistant-”the very intelligent Renfield,” Cosby called her-welcomes the first day`s viewers to
”the funniest game show on TV.”
I have heard Pat Sajak, of all people, say funnier things than does Cosby in the premiere, and though I have no doubt that Cosby will get off some memorable lines, I still have to marvel at this incomprehensible career move.
