Zug Zug American Style

By now all of you probably have heard the news that The Geico Cavemen have not only been shopping a pilot script around to various networks, but that said script has actually been picked up by ABC and is currently in production for the network's upcoming fall lineup -- a move which (to no one's surprise) has meet with everything from snickering derision to full-on outrage.

And while I'm sure we could stand here all day and discuss the many reasons why this is a bad idea, the thing that I find most interesting about this whole misguided adventure is the way so many network executives seem to already be making moves to separate themselves from this presumably sinking ship. When you look around the web at stories about the show, you see a lot of talking heads in Hollywood calling it "a novel idea" or "a unique experiment."

It's gotten so far that Ted Ward, the Vice President of marketing for Geico -- was recently quoted as saying,
"We sell car insurance; we don't make TV shows -- we are very excited at this opportunity for brand extension."
For those of you who might not have much experience listening to the unique brand of weaselspeak that corporate executives specialize in these days, let me translate that into English for you:
"We at Geico are very excited at the opportunity to completely avoid any blame or
responsibility when this piece of crap crashes and burns like the Hindenburg."
Sure Hollywood's a dog eat dog town, but it's a rare thing to see so many suits running away from something before it's even seen the light of day.

What's not so surprising is the way that we're already seeing the hot potato of blame is being passed from person to person, seeking it's target like a heat-seeking missile -- hunting relentlessly until it finds the person out there who's ripe to be taken down a peg or simply doesn't have enough pull to get out of the way.

The simple fact is that this sort of thing happens all the time. Remember "Cop Rock?" -- the musical theater police drama that lasted all of 11 episodes before getting canned in a blaze of criticism and laughter? Believe me -- it's not a mistake that every time the name of that show is invoked, the name Steven Bochco is never far behind. Because no matter which guy on the top floor of the ABC office building signed the checks that got that thing off the ground -- Cop Rock's ultimate suckitude has forever been deemed to be Bochco's fault.

And while the eventual patsy behind Cavemen has yet to be discovered, the unfortunate victim of this mess is clearly going to be John Lehr, the actor most identified with this role. To his credit, the makeup he wears makes it hard to tell who he is, which will probably protect him from public scorn -- but regardless of how the sitcom fares, the Geico caveman commercials are a huge hit, the kind that needs to be kept on any resume for someone looking to find a home in the industry the way Lehr clearly is.

I for one feel bad for the guy. I mean, regardless of the fate waiting for the Caveman fad -- dude's still an actor. But more than that -- regardless of how short-lived the actual show might be, there's gonna be a lot of men and women out there who are going to come on the set of this thing to operate the cameras, take speaking roles, don the makeup, or whatever.

Sometimes when you're sitting there on the couch with your remote control it's easy to forget that while deciding which shows to watch is a matter of choice for you -- in certain parts of California, New York, and Vancouver those same programs are gigs ,and if you're not the type of starlet who rates 24-hour coverage whenever you forget to put on your panties or get yourself tossed into the big house -- those gigs have to be taken in order to pay the rent.

Not that Lehr was exactly starving before his agent called him up with the offer for the caveman commercial, but that once people started getting that Röyksopp song stuck in their heads, he was probably able to pay one or two of those bills he'd been dodging, get his SAG exemption, and maybe even take a few weeks off from his day gig waiting tables for endless Hollywood hanger-ons who haven't worked in years, but still end up getting calls to guest-host whenever Craig Ferguson wants to take a vacation.
So with all this in mind, I've decided to offer my help.
Make no mistake, Caveman -- your show is in deep shit, and it hasn't even been screened yet. The time for re-writes is now, which means you need to take my advice as fast as you can, lest you find yourselves right back on the set of The New Adventures of Old Christine, re-wording a half a dozen Seinfeld jokes that don't sound enough like Jerry Seinfeld to the point where Larry David will sue you for using them.
5 Things ABC's Caveman Needs Right Now To be a Hit
1. Violence. With all the negative buzz surrounding this project, you're sure to be pushed over to some non-prime time slot where you'll probably be forced to compete with the other network's locked-in standby's. If you want to find a way above that quagmire than you need to take the bull by the balls and cover the screen with as much blood and entrails as you can find.

My suggestion -- open the very first scene of the pilot episode with a clock that reads 24:00:00 B.C.

Once the lights come up, have some Keifer Sutherland-looking dude tell the Caveman that while he appreciates all his effort, the secret service simply doesn't feel that a Neanderthal could handle the task of battling terrorism -- a statement our protagonist answers by producing a hidden dagger from his sleeve, throwing it with laser precision across the room until it sinks deep into the agent's neck -- at which point the caveman puts on dark sunglasses, looks at the camera and says "15 minutes could have saved you 15%, bitch."

2. Full Frontal Nudity. You aren't the first cave-people to try your hand at big screen success. From Ringo Starr to Fred Flintstone, the fur toga gag has been played out time and time again. People have seen it, and it gets old quick. What we don't get tired of is cleavage, and lots of it. But don’t stop there -- after all, you're a goddamn caveman, aren't you? The first hot chick that shows up on the set should immediately be clocked on the head with a club and made to Clan Your Cave Bear until it walks upright, knammsayin?

3. Rosie O'Donnell. Cast her immediately. You don't even have to give her a script. Just let her hang out for a while until she feels comfortable enough to share her opinions about the president, birth control, or Donald Trump to anyone who will listen. Give her just enough rope to piss off Bill O'Reilly again, at which point you should immediately refer back to step 1, wherein the lead Caveman pulls out a glock, caps her gangland style, puts on dark sunglasses, and then says, "Your mother's calling -- I'll put it on speaker."

4. Non-Standard Profanity. If you check the ratings, you'll find that one of the most heralded and popular shows out there is the new-fangled version of Battlestar Galactica. It's a well-written show filled with undertones of political commentary and social conscience, but none of that would matter at all if it weren't for the genius writer who felt that our normal selection of four-letter words would never survive the vacuum of outer space -- prompting him to coin the phrase Frak, as in "Frak You", "Frak Me", and "Take this, you Frak!"

If you are going to have characters on your show dressed up as Australopithecus Afarensis-es, then there's no reason why you shouldn't take advantage of their backstory to fill your script with colorful, yet non-offensive phrases like "Suck my Talking Gecko," or "Fossil you, Motherfossil!"

5. Unavoidable, Irrevocable Death. Regardless of the plotline, each and every episode of your show should start and end with a wide-angle camera shot of the sky that shows the approach of an enormous asteroid that seems to get larger every week.
As an added twist, the season finale needs to be filmed completely in the dark, and the script should consist of 28 straight minutes of pained screams and animal shrieks followed by an illuminated scene where the two main cavemen are standing on a sheet of ice, feasting on the disembodied flesh of their former cast mates in an orgasmic frenzy until at last, bloodlust satisfied, the lead caveman turns to the camera, puts on dark sunglasses and says,
"Mmmmm.. roast duck with mango salsa -- My favorite."
[Listening to:    Coheed and Cambria"Wake Up" ]

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