The Simple Life
Fox
Wednesdays, 8:30 p.m. / 7:30 p.m. CST

One episode of Fox's "The Simple Life," the so-called "reality" show that places famous-for-nothing socialites Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie on an Arkansas farm for 30 days to let wackiness and "Dueling Banjos" soundtracks ensue, is enough to convince you that — despite the political oppression, cultural deprivation and 30 million or so deaths — the late Chairman Mao was on to something when he forced certain urbanites to rural "reeducation camps" to learn from the peasants.

At the least, "The Simple Life" is the closest thing TV has come to emulating "The Mao Tse-Tung Hour" in the brilliant 1976 satire Network. In the movie, famous for foreseeing much of the trash television we now take for granted, a desperate-for-ratings fourth network starts a reality show featuring a group of revolutionaries that film their own robberies.

"The Simple Life," put on by a desperate-for-ratings fourth network, doesn't have that made-up show's political aims; nor does its cast resemble Sly and the Family Stone, but the whole idea of the show seems Maoist. Send two bourgeoisie brats to the country without their cash, credit cards and cellphones, though with copious amounts of insanely expensive and farm-inappropriate clothing. See if they make the Great Leap Forward to greater conciousness and acceptance of the nonbeautiful! Or if they start a Cultural Revolution in the Ozarks!

The seeds of class struggle are sown in the first episode. Spoiled brats Hilton and Richie are so offensive, it's a wonder that by the end of day one their hosts, the Leding family, didn't slaughter and pluck them like one of the chickens the pea-brained princesses refused to help Grandma Leding clean. Grandma Leding, sagely, notes that the ditzy debutantes wouldn't last a minute if they had to take care of themselves, especially like her family had to during the Depression. (For once, an older person talking about hardship during the Depression doesn't come off as hectoring.)

Presumably, Fox has coached Hilton, the hotel heiress and Internet porn star, and Richie, daughter of musical popmeister Lionel Richie, to play up the collision of Beverly Hills and hillbillies. Hilton in particular overstates the dumb socialite side. She's clueless, but it's hard to believe she doesn't know what a soup kitchen does, what a well is and what "generic" means. (Not knowing two out of three would be believable, but not all three.)

Hilton and Richie are friendly enough when they first say hello to their hosts, arriving after having to drive a pickup from the Aldus, Ark., airstrip to the Ledings' house. (Yeah, Fox didn't arrange that.) But they truly are bad houseguests — either they're really that rude, or they're condescending enough to go along with Fox's plan to have them view their guests with whimsical derision.

It says something about our times — the realization that the dot-com collapse was less about dreamy entreprenuers gone awry than the established rich ripping off them and their shareholders, our silver-spoonfed president arguing about how "merit" should win over all else — that watching "The Simple Life" would cause one not only to wish violence upon the cretinous coquettes at the show's center, but the pampered, priveleged parents that spawned them. It's enough to make you a communist — a Maoist, even.

Early on, there's a scene showing Hilton's parents — Rick, a real estate agent to the dead stars, and Kathy, a child actress turned 1970s soft-core porn meat — throwing a lavish going-away party whose guests appear to have the collective IQ of a lawn ornament. Fellow debs compliment Hilton and Richie on their bravery — OK, at that point, the producers hadn't told them where they were going, but they could be sure it wasn't Iraq — with such gems as "I'd rather go without food for six weeks than my cellphone!" It's enough to make you wish someone would spray machine-gun fire and put these well-heeled heels out of their vapidity. Hilton Hotel employees would be wise to review this tape the next time executives claim job or pay cuts are necessary. Hate the playa, and the game.

The Ledings are wise to all this. They may not call themselves proletariat, but they can size up the bourgeoisie with the best of them. One of the Ledings' teenage son tells an off-screen interviewer that he'll be nice if Hilton and Richie are nice, but "if they're snotty bitches, paybacks are hell — real hell." Mom Leding can sense the exploitation when she tells Hilton, upon their initial meeting, that one son is off at a track meet. "How old is he?" Hilton asks. Mom replies icily, "15."

To heighten the situation's perceived comedy, or maybe it's what really happened, Hilton and Richie in future episodes will do stuff like break house rules about staying out all night long or fail to do their chores, or do them badly. There's no sign that the object is for Hilton and Richie, as if they were in a sitcom, to learn something from their experiences.

In fact, given Hilton's unabated calls for attention and Richie's descent back into rehab, it's safe to say these pseudo-sophisticated ladies got nothing out of this. So both still remain blithering, boring celebrities despite their time with virtuous people close to the land. The Maoist in me says it's time Hilton and Richie had some more reeducation — preferably, without the cameras around.

— Bob Cook (bobc@flakmag.com)