Home on the range
My intellectual snobbery is far too advanced and entrenched to allow me to ever admit watching a reality TV show. (OK, The Bachelor. Once. For a period of several weeks.)
So I'll have to come up with another classification for the new PBS series, Texas Ranch House.
The show, part of a series of projects that began with Colonial House in 2004, takes "regular" people from the modern world and, after giving them some basic training, has them live in the manner of a specific historical time and place.
This one has the Cooke family, California suburbanites, taking over an 1867 Texas ranch house. They've got a crew of cowboys (a collection of youngish guys from around the country, plus a polo-playing Eton grad from England, and a New York City chef as their cook) and, best of all, a single servant, who is referred to as their "girl of all work."
Experts on the history of the period act as advisors, keeping things very true to life. No one has anything (clothes, food, linens, furniture) that they wouldn't have had access to in 1867.
This is fascinating, of course, but the real genius of the show is in its casting. (This is where the line between this high-minded historical project and, um, Survivor, gets blurred.)
The "girl of all work" is Maura Finkelstein, a grad student in anthropology at Stanford. She describes herself as a feminist with a rebellious streak, and it's clear from the first two episodes (broadcast back-to-back last night) that she's going to drive everyone else crazy by repeatedly pointing out the oppressive gender roles on the ranch.
Two more episodes air tonight at 8 and repeat at 10.
Would there be a problem with munching on some historically inaccurate microwave popcorn while I watch?
