I knew that I would have mixed feelings about the woman who brought Paris Hilton into the world. While I’ve kept my eye on the activities of Kathy Hilton’s elder daughter for quite some time now, I hadn’t give much thought to the person who could have spawned such a creature in the first place. But when I heard that Mommy had a new reality show, I began to wonder. Given Paris’s penchant for lewd, raucous behavior (yes, I’ve seen the sex tape), I figured Kathy Hilton would be something of a Heidi Fleiss character, or perhaps an older version of Courtney Love with a great golf swing. However, the seemingly refined, poised woman that appeared on the show both baffled and intrigued me, but I’m not sure if it was enough to keep me watching.
The show would be more accurately named Kathy Hilton Wants To Be Donald Trump, because of its Manhattan jungle theme, luxurious rewards, and eliminations determined by a single egomaniac. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hilton lacks the business savvy and awful hair necessary to pull off a show that would even begin to rival The Apprentice. The premise of her show is to take sixteen contestants, teach them which forks to use, and reward the most impressive one with a Manhattan apartment, bling, clothes, and a $200,000 trust fund. Not a bad prize package, although it puts the winner on the opposite coast from the Hilton family, making it much more difficult for the wannabe to connect with his or her new relatives. And even though the contestants probably won’t be invited to Paris and Paris’s wedding, Kath has put together an enticing array of experiences for them to enjoy.
I mean, who wouldn’t want to go have dinner at the 21 Club? I ate there once and had lobster mashed potatoes, possibly the best culinary idea ever. Unfortunately, the Donald likes to send his candidates there as well, so Kathy ended up looking like a wannabe for using it herself. Come on, Kath, there are thousands of restaurants in New York, and I’m sure that at least a handful of them would have met your mile-high standards. And you’re taking everyone to the Hamptons next week? Fine, but Tommy Hilfiger beat you to it when he sent several of his people there to schmooze on The Cut. Thus far, this show has managed the steal several ideas that other New York-based reality shows have already used. Now, I’m all for recycling, but this is ridiculous.
As is the editing of this show, with its frequent voiceovers, awkward transitions, and obviously scripted speeches from Kathy, delivered in wooden tones. The pacing was terrible, and I found myself bored before I’d even seen who all of the contestants were. And since the portrayal of these folks was so damn unbalanced, I wasn’t even sure who some of them were when they sat before Kath in the elimination room. Sure, some people, like Ann, the former Miss Tampa USA, managed to distinguish themselves by serenading Hilton with an American Idol tune (I felt so embarrassed for everyone involved, including myself). The lone Brit of the bunch, Yvette, confused everyone with her advanced vocabulary skills, although I’m proud to say that I knew what a fracas was.
But who cares, really? The show was painful from beginning to end. I found little to like about Kathy Hilton, especially when she lectured Yvette on the dangers of flaunting her sexuality to get ahead. That’s pretty smug advice coming from a woman whose own daughter has repeatedly relied on her sexuality for fame and notoriety (and either one seems fine with Paris). That’s not to say that Mrs. Hilton has much control over her adult daughter, but the values she is trying to instill in her pupils on the show obviously didn’t stick with Paris, although Nicky seems to have somewhat more of a clue if one blots out last year’s Vegas wedding to Todd Meister.
Which may be why Kathy decided to do this show in the first place. Since she couldn’t mold her daughter into some ankle-crossing, twin set-wearing Sandra Dee, Mrs. Hilton is on a quest to wax Henry Higgins on a willing set of Eliza Doolittles. I couldn’t care less, but I wish her the best of luck with that undertaking. Now, if everyone will excuse me, I’m going to watch Beauty and the Geek.
