My name is Nick Silver. (In some, slightly grittier, parts of this big blue-green ball we call La Tierra, I’m also known as Dirk Shank, but that’s a story for another time, another place, a fatter paycheck.) By way of introduction, I have been tasked with the awesome responsibility of blogging, for the benefit of Tico Times readers far and wide (those high and low are welcome to read along as well) on a new reality series called “Love In The Wild” premiering tonight at ten on the peacock network, otherwise known as the National Broadcasting Company – NBC for short.
I’m an expat. Living in Costa Rica, who, after years of high art preening, has finally come to appreciate the true meaning of TV, i.e., that it works best as a kind of sedative., preferably one administered by a busty nurse. Nothing outside of prescription medicine (prescription medicine in Costa Rica – perish the thought!) quite takes the edge off like a couple of hours in front of the ol’ flat screen. In my case, I’ve so come to appreciate – and depend, really – on this aspect of TV that I’ve sworn off Lexipro for good. Valium, too. OK, so I got a death grip on the Prozac. Go ahead and sue me. As for my shrink, that kook Dr. Vargas – well, he can take a hike in the proverbial cloud forest, too, for all I care!
As to the critical question of ‘why now?’ – well, the show is premiering tonight for one thing. Plus, there’s no time like the present; I remember somebody telling me that a long time ago.
Why this show? Good question. Well, it’s elementary, my dear Watson. (Insert yawn here.) It just so happens the show is set in Costa Rica, our collective home away from home, hence you’re supposed to care. Don’t worry, though: it ain’t another iteration of the CSI franchise, this time set in the crummy streets of San Jose. No, no. Instead, it’s a charming lark among the camera-ready flora and fauna of Costa Rica – ergo the title, by which is meant – or so I gleaned from very briefly glancing at the show’s website – photogenic locales like Volcan Arenal, The Blue River, and Tommy’s Bait and Switch on Isla Coco.
Apparently, the dealio is as follows: 10 fetching adult girls and 10 strapping adult boys – 20 homo sapiens in all – have been flown in from The States to see if they can’t make a love connection while testing their mental and emotional intelligence in the leafy and humid environs of prime Costa Rican jungle. Dunno ‘bout you, but to me it sounds like a reanimated Frankenstein’s monster made up of bits of Survivor, Temptation Island, Get Me Out Of Here – I’m A Celebrity, and The Bachelor. Then, of course, every week – ah, you know the drill by know – the castaways are winnowed by a factor of two until, at the very end, by means of a series of diabolical competitions, the canny producers at NBC will hope to have produced a modern day version of Tarzan and Jane., minus the chimp. (Of course, Tarzan and Jane will announce their separation soon after the wrap party.)
Sadly, I have some bad news to impart. If, like me, you were hoping to see the one and only Chuck Woolery hosting in a loin cloth, it pains me deeply to inform you that instead we have to countenance yet another British interloper as MC. This time it goes by the name of Darren McMullen, a Scot by way of Australia, who, at least based on his online vlogs, will be a genial and sometimes cheeky host in the manner American audiences might associate with Craig Ferguson. China overrunning American manufacturing is one thing, but the British invasion of American media must stop at once, I say! Enough with the Pierses and the Simons and now the Darrens. I can’t take it anymore!
Anyway, I’m gonna be turning on and tuning in to NBC tonight at 8 – that is, as long as power doesn’t go off – and trading in my meds for a piping hot bag of Jack’s microwave popcorn – that is, as long as the power doesn’t go off – while the premiere episode of “Love In The Wild” unfolds before my bloodshot eyes. Why don’t you join me? Loosen the ties on your straitjacket and sit a spell. Trust me, you’ll feel better.