My wife is a food aficionada. Foxtel's all-cooking Lifestyle Food channel is, therefore, on often in my house. The programs don't generally appeal to me, although I reap the benefits at dinner time.
There is one program which we discovered, and became hooked on, together. Masterchef is the pinnacle of reality TV. I'm talking the original, UK version here. It is compelling. A taut, high-stakes cooking competition.
Competition is the key word. These are real people — amateur cooks who dream of leaving behind their ordinary careers to become professional chefs. The dream leads them through an increasingly pressurised series of challenges that put their skills to the test.
It's heat-based — small groups cook off against each other for the right to progress to the next round. The focus is on the 'sport' of cooking, so personalities rarely come into it. Nor do the acute voyeurism, the tearies and tanties, sniping and backstabbing that are the hallmarks of Big Brother and its ilk.
This is reality TV, without all that irksome reality TV crap.
Needless to say we were intrigued when we learned there was going to be an Australian version of the cult UK series. But with Masterchef Australia now bubbling towards its final weeks, our feelings have been mixed. It bears the brand, but Masterchef Australia stands little comparison to its UK predecessor.
This is the theme park version of Masterchef. It is Masterchef as imagined by the network behind Australia's Big Brother and The Biggest Loser. Its formula owes a lot to those shows. (Continues below)
Soap opera plays a big part. The contestants live together in a camera-studded dwelling, so that the personality clashes become part of the story. The tanties and tearies are there (although less so since Kate was eliminated). And the talking-head confessionals from contestants about their fellows are not always charitable.
Okay, so Channel Ten needs to think about its ratings. It's only to be expected that it will execute a formula that has proven to be a winner in the past. The problem is, in terms of being a test of excellence, Masterchef Australia is more Deal or No Deal than Eggheads.
The sudden-death challenges make for dramatic viewing, but mean that overall ability becomes subservient to luck and 'on-the-day' performance. This format has seen — among other, lesser tragedies — the exceedingly talented Justine sent home, while the middling Sam remains in the competition.
This is excellence sacrificed to entertainment. It wouldn't have happened in the UK. There, the judges take into account contestants' performance throughout the competition. Eliminations are not based solely on recent troughs and triumphs. Those who have shown consistent excellence, stay. Those who have erred too often, or have failed to improve despite the judges' feedback, get the boot.
Still, Masterchef Australia is not all bad. Its judges, chefs George and Gary and food critic Matt, have gradually found the balance between offering judicious criticism, and mentorial wisdom. George and Gary have almost mastered the 'strict but cuddly' aura and easy, matey chemistry of their UK equivalents, John and Gregg.
Sniping about 'reality trash' aside, there is something to be said for the series' emphasis on personalities. Of course, the character arcs are manufactured. It's debatable how much the edited, on-screen character reflects the flesh-and-blood human being.
With that caveat, it must be said that the show has exceeded at surprising, and thus engaging, the viewer with its portrayal of different contestants. Justine emerged from among louder, bolder personalities to become arguably the most self-assured and gifted chef in the competition.
Dark horse Andre has also come out of his shell. Following a streak of top-notch dishes he began to display a more relaxed air. This week, when stirred by the judges about his previous reticence, Andre retorted: 'I'm not here for all the hoorah TV bullshit'. With Justine out of competition, at that moment Andre became my favourite contestant.
Then there's Chris. The tattooed, slightly dirty-looking 41-year-old seems to exude arrogance. But he can cook. That pig's head he dished up on Monday night had my saliva glands burbling. When George told Chris 'That's you on a plate', I'm sure he was referring to the skill and passion that went into this sublime piece of cooking, and not to imply that Chris was a pig.
Perhaps Chris' arrogance is actually justified self-confidence. 'Chefs need to be arrogant,' my wife says, referring to the personality traits required to excel in the high-pressured, strictly hierarchal environment of a pro kitchen. If that's true, Chris is a shoe-in to become Australia's first Masterchef.
Unless he has an off-day during one of the sudden-death challenges.
Post script: Last night, Justine and two other eliminated contestants were readmitted to the competition as wild card selections by the judges. A tacit admission by the producers of the faults of their own system? Perhaps. Still, a good result for all the Justine fans out there — my wife and me included.
Tim Kroenert is Assistant Editor of Eureka Street. His articles and reviews have been published by The Age, Inside Film, the Brisbane Courier-Mail and The Big Issue.