A quieter, gentler Jerry Springer
Jerry Springer reigned as the king of “trash TV” for 27 years, the last decade of which he made a downtown Stamford television studio his castle for strippers, sleaze and strangeness.
But there is a new Jerry Springer in town. And this one is out for justice.
“People are not trash,” a black robed Springer pronounced without a hint of irony from his madefor-TV courtroom bench two weeks ago. This was at a taping of “Judge Jerry,” the new “arbitration-based reality show” (an actual Wikipedia classification, folks) that he brings to syndication this September. His words successfully halt the namecalling between two couples, one of whom was suing the other over being rented a place allegedly infested with bedbugs.
The bickering, though far milder and sans punches, is one of the few carryovers in the nine years since I attended a taping of “The Jerry Springer Show,” his steamrolling doublewide of a tabloid talk show, which relocated to Stamford from Chicago in 2009.
Gone are the exuberant 200 audience members. Now it’s an intimate 50 observers.
Before a stage manager made us practice hooting, booing and chanting prior to taping. Now we are told to put away cell phones, pay rapt attention to the proceedings before us, and respectfully rise when “The Honorable Judge Jerry Springer” enters or leaves. (The faux courtroom, I should note, was constructed in what used to be his old show’s ready room. This was where audience members were primed for tapings by watching literal “greatest hits” videos of flying fists, wigs and women’s blouses.)
Springer no longer asks attendees for their thoughts on his guests or to flash their tops (bottoms, if they were male) for the reward of necklaces made of “Jerry beads.” The man has a dusty law degree from Northwestern University in Chicago, after all, and wants to demonstrate he knows how to use it.
“I’ve sort of ended up full circle, which is nice,” the former law firm partner (and Cincinnati mayor and patron of prostitutes) notes before the show.
Springer, 75, still chats up the audience with a brief monologue before taping. He seems more subdued and extremely thankful for our support in his new venture. Whereas nine years ago he joked about the “awful lot of perverts” he had on stage over his thousands of episodes, now the comedy is about how wearing judicial robes will save him a bundle on wardrobe costs.
Those “perverts” — often family members or lovers, sometimes one in the same — who inevitably pummeled each other after learning of affairs and other assorted deceits, have been replaced by plaintiffs and defendants. They’ve been plucked from actual small claims courts around the country, we’re told. Today’s proceedings seem focused on Texas and the Southeast based on the accents.
Three cases are heard during our taping: the bedbugs, one about a jet ski “repair,” another about who should pay for a brake job on a car sold between relatives. This is definitely no “Mother Daughter Dominatrix” or “I Married a Horse” type of entertainment.
There is little tangible evidence in each case, forcing Springer — who seems sincerely interested — to stumble through the “he said, she said” in search of a point to uncover or make. Where once I marveled at the host’s ability to nail cue cards reads in a single take or interject a wry comment, now he seems a bit unsure of himself. He even brings the jet ski folks back into court to try to clarify his earlier decision and its reasoning.
Would Judge Judy ask for a re-do? Hell, no. Where Greenwich resident Judy Sheindlin is part pit bull, Springer — for all his past foibles, personally and professionally, comes off grandfatherly. This is most apparent when he tries to get the female relatives, one of whom is only 18, in the brake job case to make amends for the sake of family. But, unlike the real granddaddy of court show judge, Judge Joseph Wapner of the original “The People’s Court,” Springer lacks the gravitas for the role in both personality and past history.
So, yes, there is a new Jerry Springer in town. He hosts a quieter, gentler show about average people seeking justice. Whether it’s a better Jerry Springer depends on what gets under your skin more: perverts or bedbugs.