The Cut, a.k.a. “The ApProjectRunWickedlyPerfecTice” - 
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[Doing guest coverage of The Cut is sg-dub. You can read his blog at http://weakisht.blogspot.com/.]
Let me first say that yes, I know that almost every new reality show is merely derivative of past reality shows. I’m cool with that, as long as they are well done. Even before seeing one second of Tommy Hilfiger’s new summer show on CBS, I thought it was a blatant rip-off of one of the best shows to premiere in a while – last year’s “Project Runway” on Bravo. I loved Runway; the originality of the show AND of those involved and I never knew why NBC (which owns Bravo) never gave it a shot. What I didn’t expect was how Apprenticey The Cut would be. Not only were many of the sweeping Midtown Manhattan camera shots exactly the same as we’ve seen before, but he mentioned his industry was worth “billions,” the dubbing was equally atrocious, and he feigned the same phony over-the-top disgust with the show’s hopefuls. Finally, not wanting to be outdone by The Donald’s infamous hairdo, The Tommy is rocking a hair part that has only been previously equaled by God at the Red Sea back in the day.
The show opened with Hilfiger explaining to us just how famous he is. “If you’ve ever opened any newspaper, watched TV, or looked at a magazine, you know who I am.” I sort of doubted that, so I called my dad who has certainly done all three every day of his adult life and asked him. “Hey Dad, how ‘bout that Tommy Hilfiger?”
“Who’s that, did the Eagles draft him or something?”
“No, but thanks, I’ve gotta go get back to the TV.”
“Ok son, your mom and I love – *CLICK*”
Sorry pops, it was time to meet TV’s newest batch of reality whores, and you never loved me like my TV loves me anyway. (Wow, that sounds awful upon edit.) After Tommy blabbered about his rags to riches story (unlike his daughter Allie’s own reality show, “Rich Girls,” on which she blabbered about her riches to richer riches story) we began meeting the contestants. Flamboyant gay dude, check. Neck bobbing, finger pointing black woman with attitude, check. Snobby uptown bitch, check. Latino, check. Wacky artsy woman, check. Old white guy who takes his shit waaaaaay too seriously, check. Driven career woman, check. Scruffy tough guy, check. A bunch of milquetoast average to above average looking white people, check. Former beauty queen, check. Romber, hey CBS – you forgot someone! For shame.
Tommy critiqued a few of the outfits the gang chose to wear and reminded them all about first impressions. At this point, it would be fruitless to run through all 16 fashionistas, so I’ll spare you. Tommy chose St Louis housewife and mother Julie as one of the most stylish, as well as Brooklyn artist and baby’s daddy five times over, Rob. Rob paints “art” on his clothes just like that freaky girl who loved Morrissey back in 9th grade French class did, but Tommy thinks that’s cool now, apparently.
Julie and Rob were tasked with choosing their teams based on nothing more than how each was dressed. The most notable person Julie chose was midlife crisis poster child Jeff. Yet another in the fabled history of old guys on reality shows who seem to be crack addicts. His contrived ego and absurd excitability immediately drew my ire. “God spent all day Friday and a better part of Saturday creating me and when he was done, he loved what he’d created.” Who says that crap? Picked last was Felix, who stood defiantly with his skateboard at his side. Just as I was noting how corny he is, they showed some footage of him busting a backside railslide and a switch ollie over a car hood. “Yeah,” I thought,"but does he know fashion?!”
Over on the other side, Rob first picked Chris who was fully decked out in Hilfiger gear, head to toe. Chris mentioned that he was from “the ghetto” three times in one minute. In case you were wondering how someone from Connecticut could possibly be from “the ghetto,” I can confirm that his hometown (Bridgeport) is absolutely ghetto. Trust me. Rob had the pleasure of getting the last pick overall which is always a fun reality moment. The last person picked for any team anywhere feels like crap. The last person picked on a network primetime reality show premiere? Not sure, but I’d guess uncontrollable diarrhea… with hemorrhoids. The loser this time was DeAnna from Hollywood, who looked more like a homeless transvestite in her gold lame Marilyn Monroe get up. The Cut was showing promise.
At this point, WAY into the show, they ran the opening montage. No real reason to mention it except to say I was very surprised to hear that the Rolling Stones sold “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” to be used on the show. I mean, the Stones never do that kind of thing. After the opening, the teams met on the corner of Broadway and West 50th, stood in perfect high school softball team picture poses and awaited Trump – err, Hilfiger to arrive.
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