A cut below

There are very few shows I consider "appointment television" anymore, especially of the reality TV breed. Top Chef is one of them -- though, in all honesty, I don't really need to be home at 10 p.m. Wednesday, thanks to the Bravo network's predilection for episode marathons each and every weekend. In any case, it's one of the rare programs I simply must tune into, salivate over and await to discuss with CL food critic Brian Ries and editor Jonathan Maziarz the following morning. And at every would-be water-cooler convo during this, the fourth installment in the series, one sentiment has endured: Season four blows.

A stench of desperation was apparent from the outset, when competing chefs Zoi and Jen -- who also happened to be life partners -- were cast opposite each other, and 14 other opponents. It didn't require a programming genius to figure out that TC producers were hell-bent on upping the conflict, assembling a crew of even more volatile than usual culinary types for the latest season's Chicago-based showdown. And while it's no secret that restaurant kitchens are hardly the epitome of cleanliness, language-wise, episode one rivaled the filthiest of naval squadrons, the contestants pushing the basic cable bleep-meter with their uber-pottied vocabulary.

If only the characters were as colorful as their word choices. Nimma, the first chef voted off, boasted the personality of a dead fish, followed by several other blank slates. A few of the guest judges, a lineup also in want of charisma, were no better. Head foodie Tom Colicchio grew more weary with each challenge, which were likewise vastly inferior to those of previous years: I mean, a movie-themed multi-course dinner, prompted by seemingly nothing other than the presence of Windy City film critic Richard Roeper? Elimination challenges that assigned teams to the diets of zoo animals, then the elements, a block party and then tailgating, respectively, were repetitive at best, overwrought at worst.

How 'bout that Second City improv challenge, anyone? Or the one-two beef scheduling blunder of how to properly cook a steak, and then gutting and prepping a pig? And don't get me started about the Wedding Wars entry, followed shortly thereafter by perennial winner Restaurant Wars. Many such challenges pointed to another problem with season four: Too many group contests that often resulted in certain chefs (read: the mediocre ones and they were the majority) being all but absent from TC for episodes at a time. And when individuals did enjoy a moment in the spotlight, the audience favorites were few and far between.

Crazy eyes cook Andrew, he of the quirky, slightly uncouth one-liner ("I have a culinary boner right now," "I just culinarily crapped my pants") grew on me too little too late, and I was sad to see loveable Viking Erik be bid adieu after he sogged up his corndogs (the aforementioned block party challenge). Granted, you've gotta have some testicular fortitude to survive, let alone thrive, in a kitchen, especially a time-compressed one where 100 g's and fame are at stake. But unspectacular contestants like pasta gal Nikki, New Zealander Mark and Spike -- a real douchenozzle, if ever there was one -- eeked by from ep to ep, while more talented chefs were sent packing.

By the time this column hits the stands, the fate of season four will have been sealed, and if there is any justice in this mad, forsaken world, the most villainous of all Top Chef baddies -- wretched, ill-tempered, disloyal Lisa -- will have mercifully met the chopping block. It was bad enough that she threw Andrew under the bus or that even petulant little dick Dale appeared tolerable by comparison: Lisa gave new meaning to the term attitude problem. Look at her body language over the six -- count 'em, six! -- times she was in the bottom two/three/four contestants -- arms folded, smug, pouting and embittered like Tom Cruise at a postpartum depression symposium. And she's not that skilled a cook either.

Yet there we were last week, at the final three, when Lisa, having cheated Top Chef death yet again, acknowledged that she made it "by the skin of [her] teeth" and beseeched good guy Richard and good gal Stephanie to congratulate her. A more quarter-assed "congrats" could not have been muttered. She may not have cared to make friends in this game, but her seething anger and constant victimhood made her enemy of rival and viewer alike. Admitted post-production editing trickery and manipulation aside, Lisa makes me -- and from the looks of it, everyone around her -- wanna punch babies. Where was Anthony Bourdain when we needed him?

I suppose that despite its many, many shortcomings this year, Top Chef is still good TV. Rampant negativity aside, this is good drama -- especially if/when Lisa finally gets hers. I just wish that, the morning after the finale crowns its winner, season four wouldn't leave me with such a -- wait for it -- bad taste in my mouth. From start to finish, the Chi-town entry was one Debbie Downer of a season (Is it just me, or did second-to-be-axed contestant Valerie resemble that Saturday Night Live joke?). Hopefully the next go-around improves upon an altogether lackluster affair: Otherwise, it's time for TC to pack its own knives.

To comment on this story, go to sarasota.creativeloafing.com/news