I’ve given it five weeks, and I’m ready to call it: So far, this is the worst season of “Big Brother.”
Ever.
The summer reality staple has been around since 2000, and I’m both proud and ashamed to say I’ve seen virtually every episode.
The competition, which secludes a group of strangers in a house and records their every move, is so trashy, it’s basically the Dumpster of modern television.
The people are obnoxious, the challenges are stupid and every season at least one person runs around naked.
In my book, those are all perfectly legitimate reasons to watch, especially that last one — these dudes are ripped.
Unfortunately, while the 16th season of “Big Brother” is delivering on all of those fronts, it’s lacking the most necessary of elements: momentum.
In order for the show to work, there need to be sides. People need to hate each other. We need villains. People need to want one another out of the house so bad they will do crazy, irrational things — scream, provoke, cry.
This season, we’ve just got a group of largely mellow duds who all seem content working together as friends.
Each week, the house as a whole targets one person and they pretty much unanimously vote them out. This is not interesting to watch, no matter how much the show’s editors attempt to manipulate it to look like there may be divisions.
The problem boils down to the fact that there needs to be a power shift each week, when a new “Head of Household” is crowned.
When that “HOH” competition comes at the end of each Thursday night episode, we should be on the edge of our seats to see who’s going to take power and switch up the game.
Instead, I’m finding myself not caring in the least because they’re all going to do the same thing. It’s like betting on an elementary school talent show — someone’s going to win, but they’re still not going to get into Juilliard.
That point is exacerbated by the addition of a new twist that crowns two HOHs each week, lowering the stakes. There’s no point in getting invested in who wins when one of them is just going to be deposed in the next episode.
I can’t help but wonder if some of this lame-ness is due to the ultra-controversial season we saw last summer, where houseguests openly aired their racist and homophobic prejudices.
After seeing that backlash, perhaps these contestants are even more concerned about the image they’re putting out there. (Except for New Yorker Victoria, who exists only to fill space and is as interesting as an empty shopping bag.)
And the fellas aren’t doing a very good job of hiding their weird sexism — 4 out of 5 evictees thus far were women, and Caleb’s vindictive ousting of the uninterested Amber (or, as the show called it, a “nomance”), was downright gross.
And may we never hear Cable’s oft-repeated description of himself, “beast mode cowboy,” uttered again.
Of course, there are the usual problems of overtly scripted diary room segments — when the contestants go into a soundproof room to share their thoughts with the CBS cameras — and Julie Chen’s robotic hosting.
And, of course, there’s the general cheese factor that permeates the whole shebang.
One thing’s for sure: I don’t know how much longer I can stick around if this snore-fest continues.
Oh, who am I kidding? As long as there are abs, I’m still going to watch.