Snoozer fails to deliver on its sexual promises

By Andrew Wallenstein
   
    In the war between metal-titled midseason reality shows "Weakest Link" (NBC) and "Chains of Love" (UPN, Tuesdays, 8-9 p.m. ET, beginning this week), the winner is NBC, which made the right move by shackling itself to "Link" instead of "Chains."
   When NBC backed out of a development deal last November with "Link" producer Endemol Entertainment, it seemed like just another example of the network's lethargic approach to capitalizing on primetime's hottest trend, reality TV. 
   It wasn't just that "Chains" was in the go-to genre; its delicious premise held the promise of substantial buzz.
   After all, taping a man or woman who is spending several days literally chained to four suitors of the opposite sex is tawdry at its rubbernecking best. 
   Who knew Endemol, makers of the squeaky clean "Big Brother" on CBS, would create a series that conjured up taboo-busting connotations of sexist subjugation and kinky sex?
  If only "Chains" were that transgressive. 
  This series is PG-13 through and through, from the puddle-sized depth of its exploration of modern romance to its inability to generate enough steam to fog up a bathroom mirror. 
    If UPN couldn't deliver any more drama than Fox's "Temptation Island," the network should at least have been smart enough to match that series' flesh-friendly footage.
    "Chains" may seem similar to "Temptation," but the classic game show "The Dating Game" is really a closer relative. "Chains" is basically the same thing, only there's no flower-festooned partition to obstruct the view of the contestants.
   "Chains" also shares the romantic voyeurism of the successful late-night syndicated strip "Blind Date," which also spies on the always awkward first step to usually doomed romances. 
   It's not a bad formula to imitate; "Date" is probably the consistently funniest show on television (two similarly themed syndicated series, "The Fifth Wheel" and "Elimidate," are scheduled for next season).
   But here's the big difference: "Date" mercilessly mocks its lovebirds, while "Chains" is under the delusional impression that someone out there is taking it seriously. Unfortunately, each solemn moment in the premiere episode elicits unintentional laughter.
    Try not to crack up every time the chained chooser, a hopelessly dysfunctional Hollywood stuntman named Andy, shoots a puppy-dog-eyed glance at the camera when he has to unshackle one of the women. Underlining the absurdity of his emotional straits is the 300-pound man known as the Locksmith, whose presence signals that one of the women has to go.
    Where they got this guy from, who knows? Maybe UPN found an XFL lineman whose team has been eliminated from the playoffs.
    In addition, the novelty of the chains wears off in about four seconds. 
   Anyone expecting a logistical nightmare on the order of conjoined twins will be disappointed; in most scenes the chains are barely noticeable.
    How the contestants go to the bathroom or change clothes goes unexplained.
    As for the logistics of chained intimacy, don't worry because there aren't any. 
   The contestants are given a swanky mansion worthy of being Hugh Hefner's second home, complete with "custom-built bed for five," but there's little hanky-panky. Time-lapse photography of the bedroom overnight reveals nary a wayward hand. Andy drags two of the women into the indoor pool fully dressed, and that's about as spicy as it gets.
   Substituting for the sizzle is 60 minutes of psychobabble from what amounts to a mobile group therapy session. The contestants do too much fighting and not enough flirting. Count me out for the second episode, but if a ménage à trois breaks out, somebody call me.

April 20, 2001 © 2001 Media Life

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