from Salon.com
24/02/00
Pick me! I'm a real multimillionaire!
A "shocked and outraged" Trey Parker speaks out on Fox's fumble.
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By Carina Chocano
Feb. 24, 2000 | Oh sure, he meets lots of girls. They follow him around even.
But "South Park's" Trey Parker is still reeling from news of the cancellation
of Fox's "Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire?" I caught up with Parker at
home in Hawaii, where he is attempting to recover from the loss.
"I am shocked and outraged," says Parker. "I had finally figured out how I'd
find my wife-to-be. I can't believe they cancelled the show because of one
asshole."
You think he's kidding? You try being famous and looking for love in Los
Angeles. "It makes perfect sense. You get 300 people together and have your mom
narrow it down for you."
How did Fox manage to mess up the solution to what Parker calls "my problem"?
("What problem?" "The problem of not being able to find anyone to marry." "Oh
... Really?" "Yeah! We work all the time and live in Los Angeles." "Oh.")
"The producers messed up," he says. "They had plenty of time to really check
these people out."
When he first heard about the show, he says, he wondered, "What makes a
millionaire? I mean, how much was this guy worth? I don't remember who said
that 'Nowadays, any asshole with a million dollars thinks he's rich.' It's
totally true. To be a millionaire now you need at least $4 million, after taxes
and other stuff. I wouldn't wipe my ass with $750,000. [Laughs] I'm a
millionaire! I'm the guy they should have brought on the show!"
Then there was the problem of the questions. If they really wanted to rip off
"Who Wants to Be a Millionaire," they should have asked questions that that
required, say, "a minimal understanding of history. So you could have an
intelligent conversation."
So here's what Parker proposes. Fox does another special, he'll be the
bachelor. But the rules have to change.
First, no secret bachelors. "There isn't any reason to have the guy concealed."
I suggest that, in this particular case, there was.
"Well, see, that's the problem. They shouldn't be talking to 40-year-old guys
worth $2 million. They should be talking to 30-year-old guys worth $15 million.
That's the shit."
Second, "and this makes it more fair to the women, once [the producers] pick
the guy, then they should send out that guy's picture and bio, and women can
decide, based on that, whether they want to go on the show. Then both are
making the choice. It's not just, because you're a woman, all you get to know
about is the money. So they would say, at the end of a show: 'Here's who's
going to be on next time, call if you want to be on.'"
Third, "You ask mentally challenging questions, and if they don't get them,
they're out. I would ask questions that would at least show that they knew
something. Like, 'What's the difference between astronomy and astrology?"
"I have the two most important questions to ask a woman," Parker says. "The
first one is, 'How's your relationship with your father?' Because nine times
out of 10, if the answer is 'I hate my father,' or 'I haven't seen my father in
10 years,' or 'My father is dead,' then they have issues. It doesn't
necessarily mean no way, but it's a big warning.
"The second question is, 'Who won the Civil War?'"
Parker's roommate later asks, "Did he tell you the story? He asked one girl,
just as a joke, who won the Civil War, and she had no idea. Then he asked
another one, and she said, 'The North,' but had never heard of the Union or the
Confederacy. Then it just became a running thing."
And finally, to keep the stakes really high, you'd be bound by the rules of the
game. "It could even be funny," he says. "Say there's this woman you're totally
attracted to, she's totally beautiful and she's gotten a lot of questions
right. You're totally stoked on her. And then they ask her, say, the Civil War
question and she gets it wrong? She's out, whether you want her to be or not.
That would be sweet! 'Cause then you'd be like, 'Nooo!' Meanwhile everyone was
rooting for her and you were too!"
Also, he says, that would have taken the sting out of making it as sexist as it
was. "It would then be equally fucked-up for everybody."
(We are briefly interrupted by a woman asking Parker a question. "That was my
cleaning woman. For my house in Hawaii. I'm a millionaire! I'm not fuckin'
around!")
Then the conversation takes a tender turn.
"I'm actually in a smaller but similar situation. I got nominated for an
Academy Award [for his song "Blame Canada," co-written with Marc Shaiman for
the "South Park: Bigger, Longer, Uncut" soundtrack] and I'm trying to get a
date for the show. 'Cause that's a sweet date! I should be able to get an
awesome date for that! But, again, everyone that I know, I already know. And
everyone in L.A. that I know ... I don't really like that much. And I'd rather
take someone who has nothing to do with that scene.
"My dream would be either someone who is a marine biologist or a forensic
scientist."
I am momentarily confused. "Like Quincy?"
"Not an autopsy person necessarily," he says. "Someone who takes the bullet and
says, 'It came from this direction, he died then because of this.' Or a marine
biologist. One of those chicks that does stuff with Shamu. I would be so stoked
on that! Those two things I totally get into, but I don't have time for them.
So if I had a partner that was, it would be awesome. Crime-story stuff? I love
that stuff.
"And the problem is, my choices are all the people I know in L.A. And we'd just
talk about Hollywood. And I hate talking about Hollywood because I live
Hollywood. It's pretty hard to find a marine biologist or a forensic scientist
here."
"Someone from where I'm from, like Colorado or Arizona, someone who's getting
their masters in one of those two things ... well, I guess you wouldn't be
getting your master's in marine biology in Colorado, but you know what I mean
... that would be great. But, obviously, I have no bones about saying that she
should be a knockout ... 'cause I deserve it! 'Cause I'm not big, fat and gross
or anything."
"Yeah, but last time I saw you," I say, "you didn't have any hair."
"I'd shaved it off. But it's all grown back now."
Then I think. Then I say, "You're not serious about any of this, are you?"
"Oh, yeah!" he says, "Totally!"
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Actually crying reading this article at 1am because I love Bob's Burgers so much
[movie spoilers below; not in article but in my post]
This all started because I was thinking about the Bob's Burgers movie and the scene w/ Bob's mom and I started tearing up at that, so you know that I was bound to cry reading this article. I wanted to look into more about Bob's mom and found this in my search. Soon found myself crying over Bouchard and his mom, but also over his dedication to the show as well as the dedication of other cast and crew members, over how much the show is like a family, over all the joy and kindness in the show, over the Belchers themselves.... Really worth the read. Here are a few highlights:
With “Bob’s,” Bouchard wanted to create something equally rooted in kindness, rejecting the classic sitcom convention of the family as a conflict machine. (He recalls one executive saying the family members “love each other a little too much,” warning him that “even a family that loves each other fights.”)
[kindness <3]
“Obviously I have to frame our whole childhood around our mother’s death,” Erica told me. “There was sort of the before and the after” — a house full of love and laughter and then a death that left the family “rudderless for a long time.”
[Bouchard's sister on the death of their mother.]
a picture of Bouchard & his mother, used in the article, supplied by Loren Bouchard
Watching a Zoom meeting of “Bob’s” writers, I was struck not only by the ease and lack of hierarchy — like a family writing about a family — but by the way that, as adjustments were made to a script, the better joke didn’t always win; pacing, tone and trueness to character were more essential. The show’s humor, Bouchard would tell me later, is so character-driven as to be almost fragile.
[family & characters]
and the big conclusion to the article:
Many of the show’s fans turn to it, in part, because it can be soothing. Lately I have found myself watching it for the same reason. Bad, unfair things happen all the time — a bad, unfair thing happened to me while writing this — and it can be consoling to see others struggle, together, without losing hope. The Belchers, decidedly nonaspirational, exist in an unjust, disappointing, fart-choked world. But they have built something comforting within it. They create meaning by focusing on the next burger; on the next musical showstopper; on the next “erotic friend fiction” story or power-hungry scheme; and of course, more than anything and always, on one another.
-- Carina Chocano
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"The 'cult of true womanhood' was the capitalist answer to the 'woman question'-- as in, What is to be done about them and their infernal demands? It was the trope versus women of the Victorian era, the original backlash against liberal reforms that played out in the press, popular media, and advertising, and it dominated the popular media in overt and covert, pandering and hectoring, polemical and service-oriented ways, as it does now. It sold papers and magazines, inspired sermons, launched letters to the editor, and moved a lot of soap. It provided a materialist answer to an existential question, filling the void left by the end of the old, 'divine' feudal social order and replaced it with the 'natural' social order based in 'science'. The 'cult of true womanhood' split the symbolic world in two, sorting everything into categories. To men went the 'public sphere' of commerce, politics, law, culture, reason, and science; and to women-- 'true women'-- went the 'private sphere' of the home, the children, morals, and feeling.
From here sprang the notion of wifehood and motherhood as a 'job', and not just any job but a calling so noble and exalted that it could be done only for love, not for anything as corrupting as money or status. The 'true woman' was tasked with creating a serene, restorative refuge for her husband, far removed from the filthy, corrupting world of capital where he went out to stalk his prey. In compensation for her complete civic and financial disenfranchisement, the upper-middle-class wife was given the run of the house-- assuming she was fortunate enough to acquire one in marriage. The job included managing the servants, administrating the household budget, overseeing the social, moral, and spiritual development of her husband and children, and devoting herself to accurately telegraphing her husband's status through 'the ladylike consumption of luxury goods'. Safe at home in her 'walled garden', she stoked and quelled her social and status anxieties at once by heeding the counsel of magazines such as Godey's Lady's Book (1830-1878), which offered fashion tips, hints on practical housekeeping, advice on social-etiquette questions, intimate glimpses into the lives of aristocrats and socialites, and advertisements featuring all the latest must-haves. The stuff that made a lady a lady.
That few could afford the lifestyles portrayed here, or keep to all the contradictory advice, was entirely beside the point. (Working-class women, with their labor for wages, were always too 'real' to be 'true'.) 'True womanhood' was nothing if not aspirational anyway, because there's nothing like trying to live up to an impossible standard to keep a woman in her place."
-You Play the Girl by Carina Chocano
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