In the realm of horrible television catchphrases, "Is that your final answer?" ranks up there among the worst. Its parallel equivalent among the best catchphrases, however, has to be, "Survey says?" This speaks to the everlasting resilience of "Family Feud," as opposed to the country's short-lived obsession with "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?"
The "Mark Goodson Television Production" has been beamed into our homes intermittently during our lifetimes, and thanks to the Game Show Network (GSN), we can now watch those episodes we missed while we were just a twinkle in our parents' eyes. Sure, Ken Jennings has made "Jeopardy!" cool again, but there is nothing like the populist vibe undercutting that wondrous game show "Family Feud."
"We asked 100 people," the host would always say before explaining how many of the "top answers" were on the board. This wasn't a show about remembering random trivia or knowing clich?©s (see "Wheel of Fortune"); this was a contest to see which family was most in sync with the American people.
Two families, usually composed of cousins, in-laws, and grandparents, faced off to banjo-ridden hillbilly theme music. They'd be given a question, something along the lines of, "Name a place where you would meet your future spouse." Their eventual goal was to give all the "top-answers" before getting three wrong responses. If that happened, the other family would have a chance to steal. The point system always confused me. All I ever knew was that the family who won the last round, where point values were tripled, would move on to "fast money."
Although Alex Trebek and Pat Sajak have dominated their respective game shows, "Family Feud" has been blessed with a quartet of hosts, each with their own distinctive styles. The debate over who was the best should always be a part of watching any episode of the "Feud," whether it be current or ancient.
Richard Dawson was the first host when the show premiered in July of 1976. His numerous years on the many incarnations of "Match Game" served him well when he switched positions from panelist to host. On that trippy program, Dawson made wisecracks alongside the bizarre Charles Nelson Reilly and the throaty-voiced Brett Somers. With Gene Rayburn doing his best to define the stereotype of "creepy game show host," "Match Game" is a legendary program that deserves a column of its own. From the hideous set pieces to the clothes to the cultural references which now seem obscure, everything about the show screams the seventies
As "Family Feud" host, Dawson made it his trademark to kiss every single female contestant on the lips. It is horrifying to watch in today's world of sexual harassment lawsuits, but the repulsion only adds to the appeal. Dawson would kiss 22 year-old daughters with the same gusto as he would lay his lips on 70 year-old grandmothers. So many of the questions have a charming dated quality to them, since these shows were taped long before the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the institutionalization of the personal computer. Dawson too, has that vintage appeal, reminding me of an older version of Quagmire from "Family Guy."
The show took a short reprieve in 1985, only to come back three years later under the stewardship of stand-up comedian Ray Combs. Here was the poor man's Pat Sajak, but Combs brought a great new energy to the "Feud." His sharp wit and jovial personality made everyone feel at ease, a sharp contrast to the horny, abrasive Dawson. Combs could take a contestant's embarrassingly stupid answer and turn it into a running joke. Some episodes pitted a black family against a white family, but Ray would use that racial tension and spin it into exciting game show television. With ratings slipping in 1994, Combs was fired and Dawson was brought back for one season. Sadly, Combs committed suicide two years later by hanging himself.
We're currently in the Third Age of "Family Feud," and it is by far the weakest. In 1999, we were "treated" to the distinctive voice and carriage of Louis Anderson as another stand-up comedian took the stage. He maintained the light-hearted atmosphere Combs left behind, but Anderson was too harsh on the audience's eyes and ears. I can still hear his grating, high-pitched voice and it makes me cringe.
Three years later, Richard Karn took over the reins and "Family Feud" has never been worse off. Karn, known solely for playing Al Borland on "Home Improvement," is just as squeaky-clean as his fictional sidekick character. He's neither funny nor interesting. Karn's laugh is as fake as a porn star's breasts. He's a disaster to watch.
Again, thanks to GSN, we get to enjoy the better years of the "Feud." I often wonder if 50 year-olds are flipping through the channels and catch themselves on old reruns of the show. They were on one thirty-minute game show thirty years ago and now they get to relive it thanks to cable.
Family Feud was an amazing program. Survey says? Yes.
