Dating in the lion’s den
The local ‘Take Me Out’ is a riot, though it may make you wince at times
WHEN producers take TV shows which originated elsewhere and re-make them locally, they often reveal fascinating differences. I’ve cited the local version of Come Dine With Me as an example before. On the UK version of the reality cooking show, contestants normally come across as real foodies. In the far more entertaining South African incarnation, the contestants often appeared to be slightly unhinged binge-drinkers for whom food was one of the least significant aspects of a successful dinner party.
The latest British reality programme to get a South African do-over is dating show Take Me Out, which debuted on SABC1 in mid-July. The format sees men paraded one at a time in front of 30 women, who decide whether they’d like to date them. The women stand behind light boxes, and when the man reveals something to render himself un-dateable, they reject him by switching off their light. “No like, no lights,” cries the host, the curiously ageless Phat Joe.
I’ve seen a few episodes of the British version, and in the second episode of the South African re-make, at least two things happened that I’ve never witnessed on the British one.
For a start, one female participant casually admitted that she had been the victim of domestic violence.
“What’s the most embarrassing thing that a man has ever said to you?” Phat Joe cheerfully asked contestant Leza.
“I was dating this guy. He was so loveydovey and all of that. We get into a fight and all of a sudden . . . one-two, one-two!” She mimed him punching her in the face. The audience roared with surprise and laughter, admittedly because she was playing the scene for laughs — as is her right.
“So you did like a Matrix dive?” asked Phat Joe with amusement. “Did he miss?”
“He didn’t,” she replied.
The second proudly South African moment occurred when contestant Aviwe’s mother was called upon to give a video testimonial on her son’s most shining attributes. “He was never arrested,” she said gravely. “I was never called by the police station to report maybe that he has done something that is against the law.”
Objectively speaking, that is pretty depressing stuff. But nobody’s watching the show for gritty socioeconomic insights. They’re watching it because it’s a riot. Phat Joe has a bit of a chequered past in local broadcasting, but in his role as Take Me Out’s host he is very, very good: taking something that could be unimaginably tawdry and bringing sufficient ebullience to his task to make the whole endeavour seem like a bit of harmless fun.
Take Me Out is an interesting show because it could never work the other way round. The idea of a woman parading in front of a group of men who vocally objectify her looks would rightly be condemned as sexist. (Nobody mention “Miss South Africa”.) When the gender of participants is reversed, somehow it seems much more acceptable, despite the fact that the women on the show do not hold back in their criticism of their potential dates.
“He’s clearly a very fit officer,” said Phat Joe of contestant Lucas, a police detective from Krugersdorp.
“No,” replied contestant Tintswalo expressionlessly. “He’s not well-toned.” All the women rejected Lucas. But he didn’t inspire a lot of sympathy. When one woman dismissed him, Lucas hit back: “She don’t be my type, that one.” He accused another woman of looking like a stripper, which is always comforting coming from a man paid to protect women. Ah, South Africa.