Celebrity Apprentice - Episode 1

The first 3 and a half seconds of the opening montage were perfect; insidious, but perfect. 3 shots of Manhattan from on high, buildings to the horizon in each shot. It’s an island yet we see no water. 3 shots of Trump Towers icons as shot by Kubric: looming monoliths all.

Welcome to the Trumpiverse, a realm where the Towers are the center and nothing exists but Manhattan and the sky. There is no beyond. My favorite shot was the Trump Towers T blotting out the sun, dwarfing our star to a welder’s torch glare peaking out from the T’s right armpit. It looked like God’s laser scope sizing up the T for a kill shot.

The Donald and his trusty sidekick, The Daughter, swoop down from the sky and stride toward the camera, wearing their best X-men scowls. As the camera pans over a group of people, some vaguely familiar, others not at all, Zeus speaks: “I have issued a challenge to 14 of the world’s most successful celebrities to prove they have what it takes to make it big in my world.” Just in case there was any doubt.

In a collage of prize fight clips, concert ovations, men’s magazine covers, flying machines and photo shoots we meet the cast. In order (and style) of introduction, the 14 are:
“Heavyweight boxing champion, Lennox Lewis.”
“Playmate of the Year, Tiffany Fallon.”
“Ultimate fighter and sports wear mogul, Tito Ortiz.”
“Star of Taxi and best selling author, MariLu Henner.”
“Multi-platinum country star, Trace Adkins.”
“Notorious tabloid journalist and judge of America’s Got Talent, Piers Morgan.”
“Marketing genius and Kiss legend, Gene Simmons.”
“Softball gold medalist Jennie Finch.”
“Actor, author and entrepreneur, Stephen Baldwin.”
“Latina media tycoon, Nely Galan.”
“The original supermodel and health pioneer, Carol Alt.”
“Sopranos star and Broadway headliner, Vincent Pastore.”
“Five-time Olympic gold medalist, Nadia Cominici.”
“Omarosa.”

In the Trumpiverse, Omarosa is like Britney or Marilyn or Cher – no introduction or last name required. For the latecomers, you might remember Omarosa from Celebrity Fear Factor or The Surreal Life or Dr. Phil. All that came about after she made a name for herself playing the villain in season 1 of The Apprentice.

Cue theme song - the O’Jays doing Money. Going on 35 years since it was first released and that phased bass riff is still a killer.

We open on the floor of the New York Mercantile Exchange. Trump lectures the contestants on celebrity as a commodity. It looks like the teams have been divided along gender lines. When Omarosa is introduced the Celebrities smirk and pretend they don’t know who she is. Of course, they all know she is Evil Queen of the Trumpiverse.

Cut to the female team war room. They are working on coming up with a name. Nely Galan hands out hats all around (I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say her entrepreneurship includes something to do with a line of hats). Omarosa is somewhat offended. “This is not some dress-up tea party,” she scolds the camera. “This is The Apprentice. Get with it.” Like the America’s Next Top Model judges, who dump any contestant that dares to suggest the world of high fashion is anything less than the beating, bloody heart of civilization, Omarosa will squash all who diss her milieu.

Names are picked. The women are Impresario; the guys are Hydra (my favorite was Pastore’s suggestion, The Ba-Da-Bing Boys). Lizard man Simmons suggested the name. I figured, 7 headed beast, 7 member team: good one, Gene. Turned out he had it confused the 3-headed dog from Harry Potter. But they went with Hydra anyway.

Omarosa seeks and gets Project Manager for the first task - selling hot dogs on the street. Stephen is PM for the guys. While Omarosa is bullying the women to leave their sexual appeal and celebrity behind and instead embrace the key to business success – “really solid sales skills” – Simmons pulls out his rolodex and begins calling wealthy friends. When Gene’s first call ends with somebody agreeing to come down to their hot dog cart the next day to buy a $5,000 hot dog for charity, the other guys get it. You truly are the Dark Lord, Gene.

Out on the street the women, who have the equipment to flash enough cleavage to blind the average male, have been outfitted in unflattering girls softball team outfits (any chance these are from Olympic softball gold medalist Jennie Finch’s sportswear line?). The guys bring in Tito’s girlfriend, one of my favorite porn stars, Jenna Jameson, as back-up in case the high rollers fail to show, but she isn’t needed. The largest donation they get is $10,000 from some preppy kid named John, last seen walking off with Ms Jameson.

Impresario does well, bringing in $17,000. But the guys kick their ass, raking in a cool 52 grand. As PM, Omarosa faces elimination and brings two others with her into the boardroom: Playboy Playmate of the Year Tiffany, who Omarosa thinks didn’t shake her junk hard enough, and New Yorker Carol Alt, who chose the location. They are also the two most attractive woman, but I’m sure that did not figure in to Oma’s calculations.

The best twist to this new Apprentice so far is the boardroom nanny-cam. A close-circuit TV has been set up in the guys’ war room. The winning team gets to watch the three members of the losing team plead their cases before the court (as in royalty, not justice).

It quickly becomes evident that Tiffany hasn’t got a clue how to fight evil. If this were a horror movie, she’d be the sweet but dumb chick who gets killed off in the first reel. Oma and Alt rip her apart.

Cue the cab ride into the night. Shout out to Tiffany – you seem like a genuinely nice girl. Wish you’d hung around for a while. Oh well – at least we'll always have the centerfold.