Now that's what I call, "Damn good television!"
This show's concept is absolutely brilliant: simultaneously it's own animal and a laboratory with near perfect conditions to workshop other gameshow ideas. But that would mean nothing if the host and contestants didn't provide engaging follow through with charm, cheek, and wit. Luckily, everyone has that, not only in spades, but all the other suits as well. They act like they're not playing with a full deck, but they know exactly what they're doing, and by that, I mean they lean into not knowing what they're doing. It's incredibly refreshing.
Sam Reich (native to Cambridge, Massachusetts) is a genius. He's this whimsical wizard that is a hybrid between a well-dressed teddy bear (probably a descendant of much more posh Winnie the Pooh) and a mad scientist close to perfecting chewing gum that explodes in the mouths of unsuspecting children.
The Dropout writers/usual suspects are also a hoot to watch swing on the pendulum of winning generous gifts from their glorious benefactor and perform Diet Fear Factor tasks, with a twist of lemon.
The show is inconceivably preposterous: warm and well meaning with its gifts, diabolical and fiendish with its punishments, but always tempestuous and hysterical.
Turn on your TV and tune into Dropout, you won't regret it.
This show's concept is absolutely brilliant: simultaneously it's own animal and a laboratory with near perfect conditions to workshop other gameshow ideas. But that would mean nothing if the host and contestants didn't provide engaging follow through with charm, cheek, and wit. Luckily, everyone has that, not only in spades, but all the other suits as well. They act like they're not playing with a full deck, but they know exactly what they're doing, and by that, I mean they lean into not knowing what they're doing. It's incredibly refreshing.
Sam Reich (native to Cambridge, Massachusetts) is a genius. He's this whimsical wizard that is a hybrid between a well-dressed teddy bear (probably a descendant of much more posh Winnie the Pooh) and a mad scientist close to perfecting chewing gum that explodes in the mouths of unsuspecting children.
The Dropout writers/usual suspects are also a hoot to watch swing on the pendulum of winning generous gifts from their glorious benefactor and perform Diet Fear Factor tasks, with a twist of lemon.
The show is inconceivably preposterous: warm and well meaning with its gifts, diabolical and fiendish with its punishments, but always tempestuous and hysterical.
Turn on your TV and tune into Dropout, you won't regret it.