REEL LIFE: Broken on the Wheel
eye WEEKLY
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eye WEEKLY October 10, 1996
Toronto's arts newspaper .....free every Thursday
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REEL LIFE REEL LIFE
BROKEN ON THE WHEEL
by
LAURA LIND
The Wheel Of Fortune audition is being held at the Sutton Place Hotel.
There are maybe 80 other people seated with me in a ballroom. They all
mailed in poards to CTV in order to be here.
I am here because I am a journalist with no ethics.
We are sitting, necks straining, ears cocked, mouths grinning, trying
to be noticed by the staff, who are going to pick us to be on the show
simply on the basis of our performance during a practice round of the
game, and after a written test.
I used to think that Wheel Of Fortune contestants were just dolts
bused in from shopping malls in Iowa.
But in fact the trial we are about to go through will be quite
gruelling. Becoming a contestant is akin to prancing around on hind
legs like an overly groomed poodle while barking happily for dog
biscuits for an hour and a half.
Am I ready to do this?
Oh yes, ma'am, how high did you want me to jump?
As I walk in the door, a woman with gray hair, a short skirt and a
curt manner that comes from constantly having to reject people barks
at me: "You, who just sat down, what's your first name? OK, move over
one seat."
She's Suzy Rosenberg. She chooses contestants for the show.
I feel honored that she yelled at me.
At the front of the room there's a polished, energetic, short guy of
the Michael J. Fox mold. His name is Harry Friedman, the executive
producer of the show, but for today he will serve as our Pat Sajak.
And his two assistants, letter turning, wheel spinning Vanna-Whites-
in-waiting, make it patently clear that if Vanna ever had some
horrible accident, like grinning herself to death, then the show would
still go on.
Anyhow... we begin. There's a bunch of blanks on a piece of newsprint
and we are to jump up and call out letters. This is something a
regular viewer of Sesame Street could handle with aplomb, but the
tension in the room is palpable.
We must be loud. We must be happy. We must be fast. We must be funny.
We're told not to say "please." Don't say "I'd like to buy a vowel,
please," or "Can I have an R, please." Just "R." We must remember to
keep the pace going. But we want to say please because we want so
badly to please them.
Someone holds up her hand and says: "But we have to say please, we're
Canadians and we're polite."
And for the first time the veneer of the super polished bingo caller
is dropped for a millisecond as he looks at us all in wonder and then
says, "Well, you're going to have to change."
I jump up, when it comes to my turn, and say "H" clearly without
saying please. There is no H. I am crestfallen. But I try to be happy
about it. You can't have sad players on Wheel Of Fortune.
After the entire room volunteers a letter and several puzzles are
solved, we take the written test. It is basically Hangman. Wheel Of
Fortune is just Hangman, of course.
With that done, the organizers explain the responsibilities of
appearing on the show. Contestants may be asked to appear on the show
any time within the next 18 months. People chosen are given two weeks
notice before they have to fly down to L.A. The contestant must pay
for the costs of travel and accommodation, which means a full-fare air
ticket unless you're on the phone to the airport the day you're
notified.
Any winnings that a contestant makes on the show are subject to U.S.
federal tax of 30 per cent and California tax of 7 per cent.
Since 1983, the total value of cash and prizes awarded to Wheel Of
Fortune contestants is $67 million. That's $23 million less than
R.E.M. just earned on their latest record contract, by the way.
In my formal journalist role I ask Suzy Rosenberg what makes a good
contestant and why they didn't pick me.
"Were you in the audience?" she asks.
She didn't even notice me... but I press her further.
"It's a combination of things," she says. "You have to match on paper
what we see in the room..."
And even as she's telling me why I wasn't chosen, she's rejecting me,
holding up her hand and walking away.
It takes a great deal of willpower not to fall at her feet and beg,
"Oh please, you must have made some mistake, please let me on the
show, I'll take voice lessons, I'll get collagen injections, I'll do
anything, please fix the wheel so I'll win, it won't hurt anyone, it
won't be like Quiz Show, I won't tell anyone, just give me money money
please big money!"
But she's gone.
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