Why 'Greed' Trumps 'Millionaire'

  • Chuck Woolery of 'Greed' vs. Regis Philbin of 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire'

    The prime-time game show 'Greed' (Fox, Thursdays, 9:00 p.m. ET) is that rare TV program whose title captures not only its high concept but the apparent thinking behind its creation. Rushed to air in envy of the ratings phenom 'Who Wants to Be a Millionaire' (ABC, weeknights, times vary), 'Greed' brazenly aped 'Millionaire' 's format and Starfleet-style set, adding a double-sized jackpot and a Machiavellian twist in which team members challenge colleagues to swipe their the prize money. In contrast to 'Millionaire''s critical love-in, 'Greed' was panned as a crass rip-off (though 'Millionaire' itself took a British game show's format lock, stock and blinding light panel). And, while audiences have been more generous, bumping up Fox's near-death Thursday-night ratings, they've given it only a fraction of 'Millionaire' 's numbers.

    'Greed' is, to be sure, testament to the general philosophy, on the network home of 'When Animals Attack,' that there is no attribute of human nature so base that it can't be jacked down a notch or two further. While 'Millionaire' 's lovable Regis Philbin genially jokes with contestants and hands winners prim, embossed checks, 'Greed' 's Chuck Woolery whips out fat stacks of cash like a Mob boss, makes fun of a contestant's hair and cracks up over the pronunciation of "Uranus." On 'Millionaire,' you can "phone a friend" for help; on ' Greed,' you have no friends, just assets and liabilities. But if 'Greed' is uglier and less likable than 'Millionaire', the very reason for its relative unpopularity may well be why it is, ultimately, the more interesting show.

    Game shows are little parables of wealth, and 'Millionaire' 's feel-good story is that of the Heroic Individual. A contestant goes one-on-one with the canon of network-TV trivia and grade-school science, while the audience and -- through the "phone a friend" option -- the entire nation cheers for and even helps out (usually) him or (occasionally) her. There's little interpersonal competition here, except for a brief elimination question to select a player; no one, really, must lose so the contestant may gain. It's a story we're familiar with from countless puffy business-magazine profiles: one person climbs to the top through know-how, luck and a little networking, and when he or she wins, we all win. At the end of a 'Millionaire' segment, you may feel bad for a loser, but gosh darn it, ya feel good about this land of opportunity!

    If 'Greed's' setup is familiar, though, it's not because we've seen it on a cable-business-show "moneymakers" profile. It's because we've seen it too often in our own lives. With its ensemble cast and its combination of teamwork and backstabbing, 'Greed' captures the shifting alliances and amorality through which fortunes are often made.

    To succeed on 'Greed,' you have to know more than the answers to the deceptively simple questions (laugh at the lowbrow categories all you want, but could you name America's top four most-consumed cheeses?). You have to know your partners' strengths and weaknesses, because the team wins or loses as a unit. Each team has a captain who decides whether to take the winnings and quit, or risk another question: one of the most entertaining moments came when a captain rolled the dice for a million dollars over his team's objections, declaring "I don't want to know what they think!" while the team shot him looks of hatred that could have brought down a bull elephant.

    But because one contestant can try to "Terminate" another and take his or her winnings, you also have to identify your team's deadwood and chop it off heartlessly for your own gain. The loser exits minus all his or her equity, and with the further shame of having been identified as the weakest, thus safest, target. (Watching the ensemble is like watching a WWII flick and guessing whether Smitty from Brooklyn or Danny the preacher's kid from Iowa will be the first to eat a grenade.)

    Sound like anyplace you've ever worked? If 'Millionaire' is Horatio Alger, 'Greed' is 'Barbarians at the Gate,' and it bears a stronger, inarguably darker, resemblance to the world of work and money. But the show isn't morally black and white, either. A nice team would never take any Terminator challenges -- and would never eliminate weak players more likely to answer wrong and blow everyone's chances. A nice leader wouldn't blithely risk hundreds of thousands worth of other people's money against their wishes. The 'Greed' captain said to hell with it -- and his team won the million bucks. The kind of calculations and expediencies through which fortunes are made on 'Greed' are painful, heartless and inhumane. And like as not, your own paycheck probably depends in part on them too.

    To the list of things one doesn't want to see made (law, sausage), add money. Clearly, 'Greed' is a bit too close to what couch potatoes' daytime experience to win America's hearts away from our Reege come nightfall. But the show's limited avarice appeal has at least improved on Fox's abominable Thursday-night numbers to date. Ironically, one of the shows 'Greed' replaces in its limited run (through Dec. 9) is 'Action,' the critically praised satire of the movie business that was scoring cable-grade ratings before going on hiatus. 'Action,' we were supposed to conclude, showed that you couldn't get away with dark social commentary in prime-time TV. It turns out that may not be true. You just have to give away millions of dollars to do it.