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Another ‘Billionaire’
tries to get real

Can Branson capitalize
on Trump’s ‘yooge’ success?

COMMENTARY
By Sarah D. Bunting
msnbc.com contributor
updated 12:25 p.m. ET Nov. 15, 2004

Television executives love nothing better than trying to imitate a successful show.  In theory, it guarantees them a hit, while protecting them from the risks involved in original ideas (read: "potential bombs") at the same time. 

In practice, copying current shows is not in fact a guarantee of success.  For every bulletproof "Law & Order" franchise, you've got a stridently unfunny "Friends" clone, a feeble "CSI" spin-off, or a British-import game show multiplying in prime time at the speed of cell division, only to overextend itself and limp off to syndication. 

‘The Rebel Billionaire’ would have gotten the point across, but ‘Branson's Quest for the Best’ sounds like some sort of self-help seminar.

But the roulette-wheel nature of the imitation strategy doesn't stop TV execs from trying their luck with it year after year, so it's no surprise that NBC's unexpected success with "The Apprentice" last spring prompted other networks to try their hands at trumping its achievement.  (As it were.)  Can "The Rebel Billionaire — Branson's Quest for the Best," set to premiere on FOX November 9, hope to compete with the infamous original?

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It doesn't look good — starting with the unwieldy title.  "The Apprentice" is pithy, but informative.  "The Billionaire" would have worked just fine, although it might have seemed derivative; even "The Rebel Billionaire" would have gotten the point across, but "Branson's Quest for the Best" sounds like some sort of self-help seminar.

The show's name is a minor issue compared with its star.  Knighted in 1999, Richard Branson is head of the Virgin Group and a fantastic success as a businessman — more so than Donald Trump.  But Trump still has the advantage, because in addition to a uniquely hilarious hairstyle, he has better name recognition in the States, and a natural ability to attract and hold the spotlight.  Prior to "The Apprentice," Trump's name functioned as a synonym for fame-grubbing excess, but he stays in the headlines by dint of a certain intriguing charisma; The Donald's self-promotion is frequently obnoxious, but seldom boring. 

Not just a job, but his job
Based on the promos FOX is running for "Billionaire," Branson seems well-mannered enough, and that could cost him ratings; the same people who may have started tuning in to "The Apprentice" to watch Trump embarrass himself, but then continued watching the show on its own merits, might not bother with Branson's version.  Branson's coif is less deranged, but he looks unsettlingly like a satyr, and while Trump's cue-card readings can be stiff, Branson's are nearly anesthetized: "I want.  To give.  You.  My job."

Which is another potential problem with the Branson show.  Most viewers understand that reality-TV producers and editors can and do manipulate circumstances and situations sometimes to make them more compelling; what you see is not always precisely what you get.  For the most part, viewers accept this, as long as the "reality" of the show is not too crassly contrived.  But Branson is proposing to give the winner of "Billionaire" his job — not a job, but his job, thereby putting an unknown at the head of a multi-billion-dollar music, entertainment, and transportation empire based on his or her relative skill at bungee-jumping over the side of a canyon.

Well, not really.  The winner won't get any real power or make any real decisions, of course, because Virgin investors would never stand for that (and Branson probably wouldn't, either).  But if the audience knows that the premise of the prize is false, why should they take an interest in who wins — particularly when the tasks the hopefuls must complete have almost nothing to do with running a major corporation?

"The Apprentice" does focus more on interpersonal squabbles than on flow charts, it's true, but "The Apprentice" at least promises a realistic position, and the winner is selected on his or her ability to fill that position — the competition relates to the reward.  "The Billionaire" is like hiring a contractor based on what kind of music he listens to — it's an irrelevant criterion.

Allegedly, Branson's lackeys will "relive some of [Branson's] personal experiences," those that shaped him into the gazillionaire he is today (orthodonture not among them, it's worth noting), and he'll judge the contestants based on how well they do in these extreme situations.  So perhaps Branson's standards are relevant to future success in the executive suite, even if one of those standards is "parasailing."

‘Benefactor’ was a bomb
With that said, Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban centered his "Faux-pprentice" attempt, ABC's "The Benefactor," on nearly identical principles.  According to the ABC website, Cuban's competition consists of "putting the contestants through a series of tests, based on his life experiences, to determine who has what it takes to be successful."  Alas, many potential viewers either didn't know who Cuban was, knew him but didn't care to watch him on TV, or wrote him off as a whiny Trumpoid.  The show's poor ratings (less than a third of "The Apprentice"'s) led to its recent demise.

The situations on ‘The Apprentice’ are manufactured, but they’re relatable. Jumping out of a plane in order to impress a guy who frequently travels by hot-air balloon is not, unless you live in the Land of Oz.

Several days later, Trump picked a catfight with Cuban by fax, smugly consoling him on the cancellation.  Predictably, Cuban lashed back with a reference to Trump's poor business acumen — but while the accusation isn't necessarily baseless, it misses the point, and it's why Cuban's TV venture failed. 

A show like "The Apprentice" or "The Benefactor" is not just about picking a CEO, or giving away a million dollars.  The premise itself does not make compelling television; it isn't what makes "The Apprentice" a success.  "The Apprentice" is a success because it offers a relatable goal, achieved through relatable situations — because viewers have jobs too.  Viewers have snitty, back-stabbing co-workers, viewers deal with office politics, viewers know what it's like to have an volatile boss with bad hair and to get called onto the carpet for a job badly done.  The situation is manufactured, but it's relatable.  Jumping out of a plane in order to impress a guy who frequently travels by hot-air balloon is not, unless you live in the Land of Oz.

Copying "The Apprentice" isn't a terrible idea.  Even FOX's upcoming parody, "My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss," has a crude kind of wit to it — the promos feature faux-pprentices trying to fix a paper jam while getting splattered with paintballs.  But for the copies to work in practice, they need to imitate what made the original successful in the first place, and daredevil stunts and capricious demands aren't it.  It's the nail-biting process of getting and keeping a job, and the fun of second-guessing others as they go through it.  Unless Branson, et al, can replicate that aspect of "The Apprentice," their shows won't get out of the mail room.

Sarah D. Bunting is the co-creator and co-editor of Television Without Pity.com. She lives in Brooklyn.

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