When will American producers learn that the original is always superior to a reproduction?
History has proven that, for the most part, when the brains behind American television try to import a series from another country, the results are usually less than spectacular. The Food Network, apparently unaware of this, went ahead and created an American version of the Japanese cult classic, "Iron Chef." Not surprisingly, this new version pales in comparison to its predecessor.
From the very first beat of the show, it is clear that the American spin-off is lacking something that made the original version so compelling. To "Iron Chef America's" credit, it has not departed from the successful format of the original. In each installment, one of a cadre of iron chefs is chosen to compete against a challenger in an hour long cook-off. The catch is that there is a surprise ingredient that must be present in each dish of the multi-course meals, and such ingredients can range from corn to bamboo shoots.
Since it kept the same format, one might imagine that the show would be equally as entertaining as the old episodes that one can still catch at 3 a.m. on any given weeknight. However, that assumption would be wrong, and
something tells me that the producers made the same mistake. In deciding to just throw challengers out on the floor to play by the same old rules, they were hoping that the magic of the Japanese classic would simply recreate itself. Sadly, they were mistaken.
Unfortunately, we find out the hard way that there's more to "Iron Chef" than a simple food showdown. What seems to be absent in this new incarnation is the sense of camp, the delight in foolishness that made the original so special. When an Iron Chef lost a competition in the Japanese version, you really thought that he might be beheaded for such failure. Now it just seems like an exhibition.
Also missing, and perhaps critically, is the back-story of the challenger that typically appeared in the first fifteen minutes of the prototype. This montage of pictures and film is vital for informing the viewer about the challenger, and it really makes it seem like something is at stake. This personal touch is sorely missed on "Iron Chef America" where anonymous challengers compete for an obscure prize that has little real significance.
Another disturbing change is the usurpation of the revered Kitchen Stadium Emperor by his alleged nephew, a disheartening loss that undercuts the show's melodramatic pageantry. The Emperor, one of the truly great emcees of our generation, had been a totally laughable figure whose humor derived from the fact that he always tried to appear unnecessarily serious and ceremonial, contributing to an absurdly amusing tension. His nephew, the Chairman, on the other hand struggles to remain as stoic as his so-called uncle.
Perhaps the greatest lesson, one we should have learned from the American edition of FX's "Most Extreme Challenge," is that shows are just plain funnier when dubbed from Japanese into English. Without the dubbing, and the feeling that the announcers could just be making anything up to pass for legitimate translation, the show is rather ordinary.
Alton Brown, host of Food Network's "Good Eats" is the play-by-play man for the update, and while he is extremely knowledgeable and frequently ingratiating, he doesn't really get the job done. He needs another person to play off of, and when he doesn't have one, there are just long periods of very uncomfortable silence.
Also, Brown sounds like one of the Sklar Brothers, the hosts of "Cheap Seats" on ESPN Classic, a show where two guys watch and ridicule lame sports like lawnmower racing. Perhaps that's just what "Iron Chef America" needs: someone who realizes how ridiculous it is.
The judges could also use a dose of such ridiculousness. In the battle between Iron Chef Mario Batali and Challenger Roberto Trevino, the cast of judges were, for the most part, rather dull. This is certainly another problem for "Iron Chef America" and perhaps an aspect that the show's creators simply didn't give enough thought to.
In the original "Iron Chef," the judges weren't all related to the culinary arts, but instead were often actresses and actors. There is no need to seek out judges who are exceedingly knowledgeable about food, just to find people who are entertaining. For instance, in an "Iron Chef America" special last year, "The Soprano's" Vincent Pastore, better known as Big Pussy, was one of the judges, and his comments on pasta were certainly more entertaining than anything voiced by the judges of Batali vs. Trevino.
Granted, there is still excitement to be found in "Iron Chef America." It is the "24" of cooking shows, and if one really appreciates the creation of five terrific meals in sixty minutes, it is still quite enjoyable. However, if one is looking for the campy dramedy of the original "Iron Chef," the Yankee reinvention just doesn't deliver.
