On Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune

Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune are an odd combination.

They’re an institution now, inseparable in the minds of many as the two gold standards of game shows in the United States. And with some exceptions for Jeopardy!’s first hosts, they’ve undergone remarkably few changes in their past three decades-plus on television.

Not to turn this into a grumpy old man rant, but they’re both “old person” games – a trivia show and a word puzzle game – without any added drama or forced comedy. Yet, the show styles couldn’t be more different. Taking in Jeopardy! and Wheel every night would be like eating arugula and chocolate sauce for 30 years, and just assuming that it works because you’ve always eaten it that way.

Let’s start with Jeopardy!, the show whose host I wanted to be when I was 3 years old. (I’m still gunning for you, Trebek) Here, we have the stoic, gentle Alex Trebek, who might be a wise old man but is probably just a smug dick who treats knowing the answers ahead of time like he has a Princeton diploma hanging from his podium. Yet, there's a comfort in knowing he’s not, playing favorites – he’s equally interested in ribbing each person who can’t get out of their negative score, regardless of race or gender (though there is evidence he may hold onto some “set in his ways”-type thoughts).

Having to answer in the form of a question is strange, but the rules of Jeopardy! have changed so little since its inception that any American who’s walked past their grandparents’ TV set once in their lifetime can pick them up quickly. The game proceeds with the tenor of a high school scholastic tournament, with all the awkward laughs and host’s dad jokes - in fact, Kids Jeopardy! is likely their best spin-off not only because it puts spoiled kids and their parents in their places, but because I actually know the answers to these questions and can feel superior to a 12-year old.

Nevertheless, despite the highly academic nature of the show, there’s also the slight influence of lady luck – maybe you don’t know a thing about the Ming dynasty or Shakespeare’s secret comic book stash (what?), but then it magically appears in Double Jeopardy: a whole category devoted to varieties of Smirnoff vodka, the first time in eight years the show has had such a category. You’ve got it in the bag.

Now, contrast Jeopardy’s mental decathlon with Wheel of Fortune’s daytime syndicated atmosphere. On Jeopardy!, an unassuming Mr. Feeny wannabe tells you you’re wrong a lot and then you might win some money and come back the next night. On Wheel, the world’s most charismatic used car salesman promises you the WORLD if you can just spin his big, magic wheel and guess a couple letters. There’s only 26 of them – what great odds!

You don’t just win cash on Wheel – you win vacations! You win gift cards, which are like money but way less flexible! You win cars! (Well, half a car – you’ll need to get the other half later on in the game, and also hold onto both the whole time without landing on Bankrupt). There are lightning rounds, aka “Toss Ups” and “Final Spins,” and a glittery, blonde, female cohost who claps a lot. As do the contestants. A whole lot. Like, for anything that happens in the show. So. Much. Clapping.

This isn’t a critique of Wheel – alright, maybe a little. But Wheel and Pat Sajack have way more in common with your standard daytime game show hosted by whichever Seinfeld bit player just got divorced than it does with the show it immediately follows. And yet, if you enjoy one of the shows, you most likely also enjoy the other – or at least like it enough to not tune in late or flip the channel away just to avoid it. Why?

There are plenty of reasons each show works: as mentioned earlier, having consistent hosts and rules has certainly made it easier to “count” on Jeopardy! and Wheel. And while there’s always Celebrity Jeopardy! and the occasional new addition to the wheel itself, the shows largely go gimmick-free.

Maybe it just comes down to the fact that both shows have existed in tandem for so long that it’s impossible to separate the two. Each show counts on extensive “sister program” marketing – plenty of ads for Wheel on Jeopardy! and vice versa – so it’s clear the advertising muckity-mucks at CBS know the score, too.

Either way, one thing is certain – each game’s consistency has made this arugula-and-chocolate sauce pairing taste a whole lot better than you’d imagine just looking at the basics of each game. You might expect me to close out this trite examination of decades-old game shows with some kind of pun related to the games, but I won’t. And that’s my final answer.