Life > January 23, 2003

By Natalie Bonomo

Old Gold and Black Reviewer

So he is not worth anything close to $50 million. But he describes himself as a guy who likes to kick back with his buddies and drink beer. We can’t find enough of those around here, can we? In fact, you’re probably more likely to find a guy at this university who is worth more than FOX’s ill-named Joe Millionaire.

Just when you thought reality TV couldn’t handle another botched attempt at seeking out and uniting two soul mates for all of eternity FOX went ahead and outdid itself. 

The premise is exquisite. Twenty desperate women are flown to a stunning chateau in France to meet a hot, rich, eligible bachelor who, they think, has unexpectedly inherited $50 million. Deception has never looked so good, or been this amusing. 

In the usual Pygmalion-like makeover, Evan Wallace Marriott is cleaned up and taught how to pull off a multi-million dollar image by a butler whose snide comments are reason enough to justify watching the show. Still trying to shake his construction worker past, Evan meets his would-be mates and, after bidding them farewell, falls off his horse in the mounting process. Suave. 

Evan cuts the 20 women down to 12 in the first episode by handing out, not roses, but pearl necklaces. And we know they are real because, seeking the truth like any girl would, one drooling batchelorette affirms them as genuine after actually putting the necklace into her mouth and biting into a pearl.

The second episode of Joe Millionaire features Evan going on three different dates, four girls at a time. But these are no ordinary attempts at wooing.

Date one was a trip into France’s wine country, where we get to watch four women in designer outfits trudge through the mud in the pouring rain for hours picking grapes like migrant workers. The second date involves a ride through the countryside, though the bachelorettes must first shovel coal into the engine of the train.  Before going horseback riding for the third and most recent date, stiletto-heeled women were forced to shovel large piles of rank horse feces out of the stalls. Talk about romantic. 

I’ll be the first to admit that the show is blatant spectacle. There is no intelligence involved.

But the blame lies not with Joe Millionaire, but with the entire reality TV genre, for the standard of reality television has been lowered so far that we’re in the negative. With painfully awful shows like Meet My Folks, Joe Millionaire is like a whiff of fresh laundry, or at least an open box of dryer sheets. 

It plays on the ridiculousness of shows like Who Wants to Marry a Millionaire and The Bachelor, exposing most of the contestants to be shallow money-grubbers utilizing their ten minutes of fame to snag a guy worth $50 million. 

What makes this show so worthwhile are moments like this: Evan comments, “She looked like a million bucks.” Pause. Laugh. “Not that I know what that looks like.” Priceless!

Utterly entertaining, Joe Millionaire doesn’t attempt to be anything other than what it is — a barefaced exploitation of morals and at getting viewers.