Can I Supersize the Ravioli?

My wife and I watched The Restaurant last night. The show is ostensibly a realty show that documents the process of creating and running a restaurant in New York City, with the focus upon a celebrity chef who lends his name and fame to the project. This season centers around a struggle for control of Rocco's 22 between the celebrity chef and his business partner. The business partner is concerned that this restaurant, one of 22 restaurants he owns, is the only one that is losing money for him. According to the brief glimpses of charts and spreadsheets we see, the restaurant is busy enough but extragavent expenses and inefficient practices are bleeding the place dry.

The business partner tries to talk with the celebrity chef about this but gets nowhere (actually, the audience doesn't know what happens during this meeting because they wouldn't allow the cameras to record it). So he wades into the fray, syncophants and accountants in tow (and an intern who looks like he's twelve years old), to make the necessary changes himself.

In the meantime, the celebrity chef broods. That is, he broods between book signings (the women are all over this guy) and sessions with an Italian chef he brought in from the old country.

The restaurant's staff, as can be expected, has no idea what is going on. In one telling scene, the waitress attending the business partner's table shuttles back and forth between serving the partner and reporting snippets of conversation back to other staff. Of course, she gets everything without context and everyone is confused and scared for their jobs (for instance, she totally misses the partner telling some syncophant that the employees need insurance and 401k plans). The business partner has a meeting with staff but he spends a lot of time saying nothing at all. It's a lot of "working together" and "making changes".

At the end of the show, the celebrity chef, after a particularly productive brooding session, makes a call to his lawyer. The phone rings as the screen fades to black. You know that can't be good!

I wonder how much of this is scripted and how much is "real". I am aghast that the chef is willing to allow the cameras watch him brood and sulk like a child. It is clear that he is aware of the camera's potential for disaster, as evidenced by his request to shut the cameras off during that first meeting. How can he think that these images of him pouting (and his disastrous attempts to manage people during the last season) will help his reputation?

I can only conclude that he does this to ratchet up the conflict in the show. As we all know, without conflict there is no story. Now that the restaurant is successful, the show must find something else to focus on. Thus, the power plays, the sulking and the syncophants (and the nine year-old intern).

And watching the chef at a book signing shows that his reputation is not tarnished by his tantrums on the show. The women love this guy!

I must say that I am currently siding with the business partner on this one. Why not? The show may be completely staged but it is still an interesting drama and 10 times better than any sitcom.

I am eager for the lawyers to show up and REALLY make a mess of things!