Why ‘Total Wipeout’ Series 2 is Peak Light Entertainment

Why ‘Total Wipeout’ Series 2 is Peak Light Entertainment

We all have those nostalgic TV shows. Those shows that define our formative years, and were maybe some of the first media properties we ever got “into”. If you're a cartoon fan maybe it was ‘Ed, Edd, and Eddy’, ‘Ren and Stimpy’, ‘Courage’, or for my friends, things like ‘Ben 10’, ‘Chowder’, ‘Regular Show’, or ‘Fosters Home…’. If live action is more your thing, maybe you watched classic CBBC shows like ‘Tracy Beaker’, ‘The 4 O’Clock Club’, ‘Sam and Mark’, ‘Trapped!’ or many others. For me though, the apex of entertainment TV for me from about the ages of 6 to 10, was the Saturday night, BBC type gameshow. Think 6pm, prime family entertainment. They might have been absolutely preposterous in some cases with their premises, but I gravitated to them like a moth to a flame. It’s a love I’m actually proud to say I still hold to this day, with my enjoyment of the joyfully ridiculous ‘First and Last’ presented by comedian Jason Manford, or even gimmicky quiz shows like Gabby Logan’s bowling themed ‘The Edge’ proving such an affinity. For the avoidance of doubt though, it’s clear to me that the golden era of this kind of show was in the late 2000s and early 2010s, though of course, I’m biased. Granted, I was a very big fan of the reruns of the classic ‘Takeshi’s Castle’ I’d seen, which rightly should be seen as a forerunner in this kind of format, but the UK had some seriously strong exports. Honourable mentions must go to the lycra clad acrobatics of ‘Hole In The Wall’, or the pure, schadenfreudic, pretty brutal hilarity of ‘101 Ways to Leave a Gameshow’, but without question, the undisputed king of them all, is the UK version of assault course show, ‘Total Wipeout’, in particular, its second series, airing originally in summer 2009, which, with complete sincerity, I can say is maybe the best light entertainment show ever made.

Now, I can already hear a few of you scratching your chinny-chin-chins and saying “BUT EVAN, the US version of ‘Wipeout’ was the original, surely that would have to be the best?” Well, it’s an interesting point, and one that I do want to ruminate on a little bit. For those of you who haven’t seen the show, the premise is pretty simple: 20(ish) everyday folk take on a ridiculous foam-clad obstacle course, the one who does it fastest wins loads of cash, while the hosts add humorous VO over top. It seems fairly simple, and for sure, they both get the broad brushstrokes right. After all, I don’t think the novelty of someone jumping, screaming and falling off stuff will ever fade away. That said though, while the USA has the far superior original video game, the UK TV version absolutely slaughters the US version when it comes to the smaller details. That might not make sense now, but it might do if you let me explain. The first major win for the UK version comes in something deceptively simple: its format. It’s probably everything to do with the fact of the US version’s 40 minute run time, with ads, as opposed to the UK’s uninterrupted 60, but the British version understood that, with it, at its core, being a show about people, they give you a chance to actually get to know the people throughout the show. Even the people they don’t dwell on long, or use in a montage, we still get one or two details about them to give them some sense of character or personality. They do this really well, to the point where, by the final round, The Wipeout Zone, or even earlier, I found myself getting genuinely invested in who I wanted to win, because they really take the time to build a narrative around the big hitters. With the American version, you barely get whiffs of that. Even with losing a third of potential runtime, it still feels like it moves way too fast. Damn near 80% of the contestants it feels like are put in this “blink and you miss it” montage in the first round, where you get precious little more than their body shape. As for those they make more of a deal of, they do a pretty bad job of developing a character, and so you only get the very surface level cliff notes in addition to a comical nickname. Hell, sometimes the people from the UK montages have more to them than a main player in its US counterpart. I found myself, even in the penultimate round, or “business end” of the American version, genuinely forgetting what contestants names were, and if that happens, you’ve failed. Simple.

There is also the pretty glaring fact that, not only does the British version give you reason to invest by way of the people themselves, but also the athleticism they display. I mean, just look at ‘Knockout Chris’’ run from the series 2 champion show (we’ll come back to that) and tell me it isn’t one of the most amazing things you’ve ever seen. In fact the sheer grit, determination, and general ability of the competitors, right from series 1, is seriously impressive. Seeing someone who looks like your dad’s mate barely dragging himself across in 7 minutes, makes the fact that a 37 year old loss adjuster from Dorset or wherever, will then somehow blitz it in under 2 minutes, enough to make anyone’s jaw drop I think. Only a show like ‘Wipeout’ would have you genuinely impressed by a guy with a nickname as stupid as “Action Granddad”, and yet this is the reality we live in. If you’re not already convinced, one of the series 2 winners, although you could call it cheating, was an indoor rowing champion, and it was like watching the Terminator run the thing. Yet, something tells me the US producers wouldn’t touch people like that with a ten foot pole. The thing the UK casting agents understood was balance. So yeah, you’d have a few “no-chancers” so to speak, but you’d also have ju-jitsu black belts, rugby players, semi-pro boxers, or, most entertainingly, just someone with a regular job who happens to be super athletic. Across the pond though, at least I get the impression that, aside from a few more people who are relatively younger to balance things, you don’t get near the same pedigree, although that might be a result of the obstacles themselves in that version being designed to just look purposefully over the top and ridiculous, which in my eyes, as weird as it might sound, sort of “dilutes the purity of the slapstick.’ More saliently though, a lot of them seem to be purpose built to be nearly impossible, just for the sake of having more “funny faceplant” moments, which yeah, are funny, but not so much when that’s nearly all you’ve got. There’s not that same sense of “fucking hell!” and adrenaline and admiration you get when some absolute unit destroys the course in 58 seconds. I do think that maybe the American course is a fair bit longer or more difficult, but seeing nowhere near the same athletic fireworks as a result (as far as I remember, anyway) just isn’t made up for by the slapstick factor. I could be having a Mandella moment here, but I swear there was quite a clear winning time in one episode at about 15:42 or something, with most wins I’m pretty sure being somewhere in the 3-7 minute range, which, fair enough, there might be more of the course to do, but it’s nowhere NEAR as engaging because of it.

So I think I’ve made my case for why the British counterpart trumps the American, but now I’d like to focus more on why I think series 2 of the UK show is by far the best. To get the arguably less interesting stuff out of the way, I’ll start with obstacle design. As I mentioned earlier, a lot of the obstacles in the US version “look purposefully over the top and ridiculous”, and while that’s not quite so true for the UK, from series 3 onward it was a lot more evident. There was a lot more bright coloured neon foam, lots more paint, ridiculous, massive setpieces, you get the idea. In series 1 and 2 though, it was palpably more… “gritty”, for lack of a better word. There was still a fair bit of coloured foam, but it wasn’t so plastic, and artificial, and dare I say, cushy looking. More important though, obviously, were the obstacles themselves. The obstacles in later series, along with their redesigns, definitely embraced the slightly “goofier”, over the top personality, with things like “Las Traplonkas”, the “Crazy Sweeper”, or, who could forget “The Motivator”, all of which, while upping the humour factor considerably in a few cases (the “Vestalia moment” being one of the best in the show), put simply, they didn’t look nearly as fun. In the earlier series, it was absolutely a case of beauty in simplicity, an opinion that, if ex-contestants interviews are to be believed, is a fairly common one. No massive amounts of bells and whistles, just some pontoons, some stepping stones, a rope swing or two, end of story (albeit in a very broad sense). Not only was it simple, but the slightly more “out there” parts looked like loads of fun (after all, who wouldn’t want to play that dodgeball course?), and crucially, because of the simplicity of the ideas, you knew instinctively, looking at it, that it would take a hell of a lot of effort to actually do correctly, and so made the contestant’s successes all the more impactful to the viewer. Whereas again, from series 3 onwards, the designs were so silly in one sense, that you had much less reference for how difficult it would actually be. Put simply, everyone knows how a rope swing or hurdles work, not everyone can build a giant mechanical foam door in their garden. There were also a few really cool innovations that series 2 threw in to help the format not get stale, while still keeping the gritty, oddly serious essence (at least for a slapstick programme) of the show intact. Firstly, The Sweeper was revamped, with a variety of new variables, including the Crusher, where two arms got closer together as well as higher up, and the “Sack Race”, where the contestants would have to jump the arm while standing in an oversized pillowcase. That’s not all though. As well as ‘The Sweeper’, there was a new obstacle, ‘The Dreadmill’, where, while running on a fast treadmill, contestants would either have to dodge two huge, black “wrecking balls” swung at them at high speed, or very skillfully traverse under a number of what are basically human cat flaps, while running. These additions, again, managed to strike that perfect balance of upping the showmanship, while still allowing the athletic pedigree of the participants to come across staggering. Every time I watch ‘Rowing John’ in his ‘Dreadmill’ heat, I can’t help but be speechless. Series 3 and onwards I think again, took the showmanship too far the other way. I will say, ‘Crash Mountain I think they got right, because as ridiculous as it looks, the huge amount of skill and precision (or just blind dumb luck) needed to win it is still very clear, but other new obstacles like the ‘Terror Go Round’ or ‘Double Cross’ aren’t nearly as dynamic or exciting to watch, and depending on the episode, are on the verge of being straight dull. If there’s one thing series 2 never even got CLOSE too, it was being dull

Moving onto something I’ve also alluded to before, there was something about the casting, and the resulting emotional depth and breadth of series 2 that was utter genius. Part of that I think is how the show really made the “20 everyday Brits” part of the pitch count. It meant that you were rooting for people that, despite their slightly cartoon portrayal (which, I get it, it’s TV), came across ultimately as incredibly normal, relatable, yet highly talented, and thus likeable people. Prime examples would be the exuberant ‘Jumping Jack’, the very determined first time female winner ‘Gymnast Rachel’, dark horse and pocket rocket ‘Nervous Anthony’, or even ‘Scary Claire’, who, in a recent alumni interview, is actually a very mild mannered, quiet, yet steely confident person, crediting some of that to her success on the show, and good on her. There is perhaps no greater example of this than ‘Knockout Chris’, who, while being a semi-pro boxer, was still, ostensibly just a bloke. Even so, his boxing skills wouldn’t have translated to his absolute gobsmacking skill at the course across both outings, logging the fastest qualifier time of series 2, and also the undeniably greatest ball crossing of all time. If you don’t believe me, apparently, in subsequent series, they used it as an example of “perfect technique” to show upcoming contestants, so, clearly it’s not just me. The upshot of course, is that then, the full on “characters” are made so much more memorable, by the fact that, among the everyday relatability, they actually stand out. Perfect examples are the robot-mimicking ‘Matt-inator’, loud mouthed amateur wrestler ‘Unassuming Ricky’, zen master ‘Crouching Tiger Hidden Adam’, and no-one’s forgetting ‘Cow-Man Aaron’ in a hurry are they? Just like with the obstacles, in order to make the zany stand out, you have to have a “solid foundation”, which they executed flawlessly here. The same unfortunately, can’t really be said for the following series, which, perhaps due to its increased popularity, basically became a zaniness contest, with more and more people dressing in homemade superhero costumes, obnoxiously bright lycra and custom t-shirts. It felt more like a trip to the local steampunk/Comic-con crossover convention than it did a game show. Funny, yeah, but, with a few exceptions I wasn't anywhere near as invested. It became less “OH MY GOD HE’S ACE, I HOPE HE WINS!” and more “hahahaha, he’s a bit wacky isn’t he? Oh, he won. OK.”

Due then, to the hugely relatable, likeable, yet determined cast, it’s no surprise that the emotional moments hit way harder than they’ve any right to. I think, to reiterate, it’s because they give such fun, yet importantly, deeply human portrayals to a lot of people on the show, it means that rather than jus fostering a passing, reality TV type investment, by the time the Wipeout Zone comes around, or indeed earlier, you’re stuck on the edge of your seat. To name a few moments, Rachel’s nail biting 9-second victory and ecstatic joy was a particularly lovely moment, Aaron’s overcoming of his vertigo, only to go on and win, was genuinely standing ovation worthy, and the ‘Dizzy Dummies’ 3-way finish in the champ show is a full on tear-jerker. However, for me, there’s one moment that tops them all. Admittedly, the final round of the series 3 ‘Legends’ special is at my #2 spot, not only for statistically being the closest Wipeout Zone ever, but also, due to actually having met one of the contestants, the ending, which I won’t spoil here, might be just as emotional and tense every time I watch it. Regardless though, the series 2 Champions’ final is the most iconic, brilliant, blood pumping, and yet genuinely tragic moment in the whole show. If there’s one thing you should know about me, I hate “obvious winners” of things. For instance, if a comedian on ‘Taskmaster’ is 25 points ahead of the rest by episode 4, practically getting top points for everything they do, frankly, what’s the fucking point in watching? Now, this might seem hypocritical given ‘Knockout Chris’ and his clear front-runner status, but for me, this applies to no-one more than ‘Amanda’s Favourite, James.’ A 6ft 6, posh, muscly drill sergeant, who’s also very adept at practically everything, even setting a Wipeout Zone record in his regular episode at 1:10. He felt like a fictional character they wrote in the show just to annoy me specifically. It was maybe because he was portrayed as SO cartoonishly flawless that I didn’t connect with him nearly as much as others, and even grew to actively dislike him. Anyhow, it’s the ‘Champions’ final, and ‘Knockout Chris’ is up, and despite one small slip up, puts on one of the most utterly staggering performances on the whole show, running like a cheetah, jumping like a kangaroo, the agility of a gazelle (or something), and just genuinely being fucking awesome. He stormed across, finishing in a white hot time of 1:11. As he stood on the victory podium, fire roaring, whooping in glee, triumphant trump music in the background, it was a genuinely heroic, moving image, and I think non-ironically made him a life role model for me of sorts in that very moment. Now though, it was James’ turn, and he started off good, like, REALLY good. He was running across it as if it was a straight patch of road, and it seemed like Chris was down for the count well and truly. Credit where it’s due, the guy was a beast. Then, suddenly, he fell right where Chris did, putting him back in contention again! At this point, I’m shaking, my heart is in my mouth, I’m dead silent, there’s seconds in it. Even if James was perfect, he might still lose, and then the clock finally stops, at 1:10. Less. Than. A Second. In it. 0.42 seconds according to Chris in an interview, giving him the no-more deserved than it is tragic title of the best contestant not to win an episode. I’ve never been more actually angry and upset at someone I’ve not met in my life. I was fuming. I might have cried. In fact, I probably did. After suffering heartbreak in his initial show, he puts on the performance of a lifetime, only for Mr. Bloody Perfect, who already won the show once, mind you, to steal it off him by a whisker. It’s sort of pathetic in a way, that even 15 years after first watching it, at age 21, I still get fully heated about it. At the end of the day, that’s only to its credit, though. I mean, you tell me another game show, let alone ‘Total Wipeout’ episode, that elicits that visceral of a reaction. I’ll wait. JUSTICE FOR CHRIS!

Another element that I think made the show overall such a success was of course, the presenters. A good game show can arguably live or die by its presenters, and ‘Total Wipeout’ flourished. To circle back to the American version briefly, their presenter choices of John Henderson, John Anderson, and Jill Wagner weren’t bad per se, but just didn’t leave a huge impact. Yes, one of them was palpably sillier than the other two, and did have the odd funny moment here or there, but, much like the course design, there was something a bit too manufactured and meticulous and plastic about their presence. It felt like you were watching them host a TV show, with their commentary barely going beyond explaining what was happening, or going “WOAH! HEH-HEY! HA-HA! HOW ABOUT THAT?” at appropriate times. It felt sometimes like they were almost there for the sake of it, being almost too professional. You don’t want the hosts to overshadow the show, but you want them to have an impact on how the show feels. Unfortunately, Jill and the Johns don’t quite stick the landing too well for me. Richard and Amanda however, do. Richard Hammond was the perfect choice in my eyes. I’m not saying that they only had their sights set on the ‘Top Gear’ boys, but if they did, he was the obvious pick, managing to be light-hearted and silly enough to where it wasn’t ridiculous, often giving a well-needed dose of wry British sarcasm to his commentary, but also knowing how to be serious when it really mattered, and put that across in a believable way. Again, see the Series 2 Champion special or the Legends special for ample proof. It’s as if he was watching the episode for the first time with you. I know he didn’t actually write anything by the look of the credits, but the writers not only nailed the “game show host” role, but also writing for Richard himself. It’s not pantomime, it’s not overblown, it feels real. In fact, some of the funnier moments in the series were from Richard’s commentary, so a real credit to the Dawson Brothers for that. Same for Amanda Byram. While not as well known in Britain as in Ireland, she too was a brilliant choice. She’s at one time, able to be dryer and more sarcastic than Richard arguably, perfectly cementing her character as the snarky, yet loveable co-host, but at the same time also clearly got along with the contestants, often joking with them during interviews. It’s able to walk that very fine line between sincerity and spectacle, and so ends up feeling like much more than just “ha ha, let’s laugh at the stupid people”, and more a case of “fair play mate, you looked a bit of a wally though eh?”, especially early on. 

I think that really gets to the route of the difference between the two. It’s often said that America, or rather Americans, aren’t very good at making fun of themselves too deeply, tending to go a bit more into the big picture, and that’s the key difference. The American version, I feel, while the athleticism of winners is respected, focuses much more on the broad, stupid spectacle of the whole scenario, rather than choosing to get personal. It works well for a mindless comfort watch, not so much if I’m trying to get genuinely invested. Whereas the UK export is all about mick-taking, and in order to do that well, you need proper characters to work with. Obviously the silliness of jumping over mounds of rubber plays a part, but it’s much more “let’s take the mick out of them all individually one by one”, with a kind of attitude of “hey, they’ll be able to look back and laugh at this”, which lets them capture that slightly sharp sense of humour without being straight cruel. Even so, at the end of the day, they still take the time to have those genuine moments, to go “well done, that was great”, because, as we know, the British love nothing more than a story of perseverance. A critique I will levy at the UK version though is that, yet again, as the series went on, this identity became more and more diluted. It felt a lot more American: too smooth, too polished, too focused on being not much more, unfortunately, than just “thing look silly + fat man fall in water = funny.” It feels so stupid to say ‘Total Wipeout’ “dumbed itself down”, but it’s true. Same goes, actually, for how they wrote Richard. He went from an excitable, slightly sarky and dim-witted, yet relatable and respectable everyman, to just being made to look more and more like a full on idiot as time went on. Not only that, but the injection of so much more “quirky XD so random” humour felt really out of place, unfortunately, leaving it feeling like a shell of itself, no more so than series 5.

Finally, albeit as a smaller point, I’d like to talk about how the UK version did a bit of a disservice to the idea of celebrity specials, with Series 2 being really the only one that got it right. On the face of it, celebrity specials were a great idea. Taking 10 famous faces, giving them a slightly altered format, and putting them through their paces away from the glamour of the TV green rooms. Great stuff. In fact, yet again, part of the enjoyment, particularly in series 2, was experiencing that feeling of “hang on, he might be a rich bastard but he’s bloody good”, and giving the audience a much more human look into the mythical creatures known as celebrities. Now, as far as the choice of participants go, obviously, you’d never get A-listers on a show like this, but a brand of celebrity England and the UK do better than many is the “TV favourite”: stand up comics, soap actors, models, general “personalities” and known media faces. The possibilities were endless, and series 2 selected a really solid bunch. Ex-Strictly dancers James and Ola Jordan, actors like EastEnders’ Joe Swash and Casualty’s Luke Bailey, comedians like the brilliant Tim Vine, model Danielle Lloyd, kids TV duo Sam and Mark, and even two actual, proper, bonafide athletes in Fatima Whitbread and Sally Gunnall. Not mind blowing, but enough to where most people over the age of 25 at the time would probably look and go, “oo bloody hell, that’ll be interesting.” Sadly though, by the very next series, while still maintaining athletic pedigree with appearances from John Regis and Katharine Merry, even my dad was having trouble naming a lot of them, as they very quickly descended to scraping the ‘Big Brother’ shaped barrel, which, given the show at its peak reached 8 million people, was not something I thought they’d resort to THAT fast, although, I suppose it’s whoever’s willing right? In a way, I’m glad it’s not on TV anymore, because if it were, I know for sure I probably would’ve had to watch KSI or an ex-’Love Island’-er take a crack at it, which, however satisfying it might be, would also probably be quite difficult to sit through.

In conclusion, for as much slagging off as I’ve given the show here, I do still love ‘Total Wipeout’ deep down, and always will. Like I said in the introduction, it was my first real great love in terms of TV. A bit of loveable, warm, easy watching junk food, every series of which is still, despite my many criticisms, a joy to revisit all of these years later. I mean that, too. I just think there was something about Series 2 that felt like real lightning in a bottle: everything coming together in the right way at the right time, to create something that went beyond light entertainment, and was something truly special. I just think as time went on, it became clear it was spreading itself pretty thin, so I’m glad it hung up the jersey when it did, before becoming truly unbearable. I’m not really into rebooting shows, particularly those that are close to my heart, just because I don’t want to see them become shiny-floored, spruced up shells of their former greatness, and I think lots of people feel the same, so I’m glad that hasn’t happened here yet. That said, it seems like the age of the 6pm game show is making a comeback, with reboots of ‘Deal or no Deal’ and even ‘Hole in the Wall’, either in development or currently airing. So, if they MUST reboot ‘Total Wipeout’, will I be watching it? Absolutely, but hopefully, if they do, they agree with what I’ve said here, and try to actually emphasise what made it work to start with. Fingers crossed.