By Keegan Hamilton
By Albert Samaha
By Village Voice staff
By Tessa Stuart
By Albert Samaha
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
"Third place gets dick. Second place gets dick. First place gets $500, and the chance to go to the bathroom!" So intoned Morgan Spurlock, the host of I Bet You Will, the new dare-to-degrade-yourself Web show that launched this week with an arsenal of cash-fueled humiliation. Spurlock watched as three contestants volunteered to be handcuffed to a fence in New York's Tompkins Square Park, where they would chug a bottle of water per minute while trying not to piss themselves.
If you thought the TV networks were getting brash with so-called reality-based programming like Survivor, get set for a wave of shock sites on the Internet, produced by young entrepreneurs looking to profit off America's thirst for sordid spectacle.
The gist of Spurlock's I Bet You Will(ibetyouwill.com) is simple. Earlier this month, he and a camera crew roamed the streets of Manhattan offering fistfuls of cash to people willing to door eatanything for money. They filmed 130 bets in five days, from Wall Street to Times Square, spending less than $35,000 for what Spurlock says will amount to six months of programming. "In Chinatown," he says, "we probably had 500 people watch an Indian guy do a New Year's parade [dance] dressed in a thong with a plastic Chinese dragon around his neck. He got $300. And you know what he said afterwards: 'Well, you gotta pay the rent.' "
"They were making him crawl across the asphalt on all fours, and he's this really big guy, and after a while he's saying, 'Come on, I've got bad knees, I can't do this anymore.' So the host says, 'OK, you can walk on your hands and feet and squat.' "
Most of the bets involved ingesting gross liquids and food. For $25, contestants drank shots of pickle juice, corn oil, and cod liver oil. One guy ate an entire jar of mayonnaise for $50, and a woman downed a bottle of hot salsa for $100. Another man got $50 to have his bald pate smothered in icing (a "chocolate" toupee), while a woman earned $50 to lick it off. Perhaps the most revolting was the "Bite the Turd" bet, in which a brave fellow won $400 for chewing on a piece of dog shit for 20 seconds. (He did get to spit it out.)
In Central Park, Spurlock convinced two eager young women from London to put on thongs and go topless for $200 each, with Magic Markered slogans like "Follow Me 2 Free Money" on their backs and bull's-eyes circling their breasts. They passed out business cards for the show. Fortunately, there were no molesters that day in Sheep Meadow. "People were too flabbergasted," Spurlock says. "But eventually some park rangers came by and told us to go."
Spurlock, an NYU film grad and local playwright who won an award for his play The Phoenix at last year's Fringe Festival, says he started I Bet You Willbecause he was tired of directing TV commercials and music videos. Having worked as an ESPN commentator for the X Games, Spurlock figured he was well versed in the art of self-promotion. So the West Virginia native drew up a business plan and began shopping it around, eventually getting "well under half a million" from the head of a Park Avenue hedge fund.
Viewers can answer bets at home by videotaping themselves performing the stunt, or offer their own depraved suggestions. Participants must be 18 or over to enter, and not obviously drunk, high, or impaired. All bets must be legal, and they can't be "completely repulsive or offensive," Spurlock says. "We want something that a broad spectrum of people are going to want to watch."
"Completely repulsive," of course, is a subjective standard. During the final shoots in Tompkins Square Park, a diverse crowd gathered to watch the bets. Elderly Chinese, neighborhood Latinos and blacks, weekend scenesters, teenagers, and a sizable group of homeless people were all lured by the prospect of easy cash.
"For those who just came in, this is the show that proves that some people will do just about anything for money," Spurlock jeered.
"Well, we do that already," cracked a homeless park habitué.
Though most of the crowd was enthusiastic, several area residents spoke out against the show. Marguerite Van Cook, a local artist and mother, says she was appalled when she saw a heavyset man in a thong being led around on a leash. "They were making him crawl across the asphalt on all fours, and he's this really big guy, and after a while he's saying, 'Come on, I've got bad knees, I can't do this anymore.' So the host says, 'OK, you can walk on your hands and feet and squat.' " Cook says her husband got "physically sick and had to sit down. It was disgusting: The guy was obviously in pain, and they still weren't letting go of it. That's when I started yelling at them. I said, 'You're exploiting people! Why don't you go where there's a bunch of wealthy people and have them do this?' "
Spurlock contends the "dog guy" was happy for the chance to earn $200, plus $100 for chowing 10 dog treats. "We're not exploiting people," he says. "We're giving them an experience that they will joke about with their friends for the rest of their lives."