The Anna Nicole Show, starring Anna Nicole Smith. It ran on E Channel the summer and early fall of 2002. Schlock-Meter rating: Five stars out of 10.
It's so easy to slam Anna Nicole' new "reality show" that I'll take a different task. Let me start by offering the star a compliment: She's very candid about her weight. To her credit, she frequently tosses good-natured self-directed barbs about her weight. The former Guess model and widow of a geezer-billionaire has always been big-boned. However, Anna has passed from that gray area called big-boned, or robust, or stout to the clearer definition of obesity. In this "celebrity peepshow" on cable's E Channel, she waddles through her home and through the streets of Los Angeles in ultra tight-fitting jeans, bodice-ripping blouses and shimmy nightclub dresses. These would look great on Cindy Crawford, who is "phat" as opposed to Anna, who is just fat. The irony is, in clothes that respected her weight, the former Naked Gun 3 star would look OK. Not great, but she's still a pretty, albeit aging, closer-to-40-than-30 blonde with striking eyes and platinum hair. But she never has a chance trying to squeeze into bursting Guess jeans which wouldn't fit on a magazine page, much less around Anna's waist.
Enough about Anna's girth. So, what's this show about? Here's the cast: Anna, who informs the audience that she's waiting for $88 million to arrive from her late husband's estate; her lawyer, a 30-something guy who eschews suits and doesn't seem to work; Anna's personal assistant, a safely homely Gen Xer who's also chubby; Anna's poodle, which is named Sweetie Pie, Cutie Pie, or something like that; and finally Anna's teen son Daniel, whose usually playing video games. In one episode, Anna house hunts. The scenes are incredibly tasteless. Anna tests baths and beds by simulating sexual intercourse. While she was gyrating grotesquely, I wondered what her son must think watching mom behave so on TV. Also, Anna cries when she can't afford the home she wants, steals food from strangers' refrigerators, scolds her poodle for farting and appears perplexed when informed that Palestinian suicide bombers are killing Israeli citizens.
The last episode I will watch involved Anna in her new house. Highlights included Anna showing off how she taught her poodle to simulate sex, Anna having a slapping fit at her assistant and a bawling Anna lugging half of her dead hubby's ashes across the house, searching for the perfect resting place. The other half of the ashes are with his son, whose trying to prevent Anna from getting her hands on the $88 million she craves. Many critics have chided Anna for being dumb. I'll say the opposite. The show is dumb by design. This is one shrewd woman who realizes the value of society's gutter appetite for "reality" trash TV. Laugh at Anna all you want. She's probably raking in six figures for this summer cable romp, maybe more if the ratings stay high.
Still, Anna needs that $88 million soon. She's running out of time. The 40s are pushing closer. The dress sizes are getting bigger. The paydays will get smaller. If Anna fails to get her $88 million within a few years, expect to see her fighting Tonya Harding on Celebrity Boxing. Or maybe William "The Refrigerator" Perry.