Is Game Show Hosting a Lost Art?

Wrestling superstar Chris Jericho has been slated to host ABC's new game show Downfall, where contestants must plummet from a skyscraper if they mess up enough. There's a semi-proud history of game shows with "falling" conceits, but the casting of Chris Jericho provokes an uncomfortable question: Is the era of the born-and-bred game show host over? As '90s stars like Carnie Wilson and Alfonso Ribiero snatch up emcee opportunities on the Game Show Network to pay the bills, we forget that the procedure of reading questions, dispensing prizes, and yelling "Wrong!" at strangers was once the vocation of a smaller, privileged class. Is a viewer revolt the correct response?

Game show history teems with avuncular game lords, the Allen Luddens and Gene Rayburns who ironed out their cadences and catchphrases like Mad Men ad execs. In the stately back-and-forth of Ludden's Password and the well-timed madness of Rayburn's Match Game, it's clear that a very particular set of hosting capabilities was essential to establishing a game's rhythm. Password, in particular, would've slowed to parlor room pacing without Ludden's emphatic jolt. Can you even imagine the cheesiness of Press Your Luck's Whammies without dependable emcee Peter Tomarken at the helm? Pyramid, without Dick Clark's Winners Circle pep talks?

Recent game show legends like Pat Sajak and Alex Trebek mix quips with quick gameplay. Sajak's subtly hilarious cynicism and Trebek's sedate presentation set the tone for Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy!, even within their Merv Griffin-perfected routines. As much as contestants supplied the emotional draw of game shows, it was up to the host's conversational ease and swift task-mastering to make us care at all. For viewers, this was a comfortable dependency, a slice of pseudo-Cronkite trust that made showbiz whiz-bang feel like home.

Game shows of the past 10-15 years have largely hinged on gameplay gimmicks to work. Who Wants to be a Millionaire's riot of lighting cues led to Deal or No Deal's bombastic visuals. Street Smarts's man-on-the-street Q&As led to the candid style of Discovery's Cash Cab (even if Cab host Ben Bailey is a scion to Sajak's sardonic kingdom). The Weakest Link's Anne Robinson was an anomaly when it came to post-millennium hosting; she was a true personality, but the lights, sounds, and Survivor-league backstabbing were responsible for the actual pace of the game.

Now, as we stare into Downfall's pit, perhaps we've officially arrived at a time when game show hosting is simply a cipher role, a last-ditch resort for former stars with cue card-reading abilities. Game show viewers have evolved from passengers coasting on the panache of the host to mere subscribers of the show's conceit. It doesn't mean the games themselves are any worse, but it does mean a certain realm of snappy savoir-faire is well behind us. The password is "disappointment."

Chris Jericho to Host ABC Game Show [THR]