If the hirsute heroes of Deadliest Catch, Ice Road Truckers, and Ax Men haven’t fully satisfied your appetite for bearded he-men, the executive producer of those gems has ditched the “tough vocation” façade and introduced a show that’s purely about the fur: IFC’s Whisker Wars, which debuts Fri/5. The show trails men around the U.S. as they prep and groom for the World Beard and Moustache Championships in Trondhjem, Norway with the long-standing champs of Germany looming in the distance.
Competition categories run the gamut from Freestyle to Full Beard Natural (in one contender’s analogy, that boils down to “synchronized diving vs. marathon”). The former measures artistry and ingenuity, the latter demands “an unbroken line of unshaven ace from the temple to the chin to the other temple … to achieve natural fullness, size, and shape.” For some reason, Miss Oregon serves as a judge for the U.S. Nationals (where California beards killed, as we reported at the time) and looks repulsed as she’s forced to stroke and yank at waist-length beards. That face – filled with a bittersweet mix of disgust and morbid curiosity – seems to be the main driver of the documentary’s entertainment value.
We watch the dueling egos of the men, their interactions with surprisingly sane spouses, and overall grooming techniques. Reigning champ Jack Passion is derided for his narcissism and book deal, while Aarne Bielfeldt serves as a charming foil: a man who lives in the forest and is an avid harpsichordist. Bielfeldt’s beard is a dangling gray, though coincidentally, most of the men on Whisker Wars (including Passion) sport brilliant red beards of varying length and texture.
The beardsmen (beardos?) struggle with everyday tasks, such as eating, and other not-so-everyday tasks, like multiple brushing sessions. Just watching them wrangle unruly facial hair is exhausting, though the show is unexpectedly watchable, mostly because it isn’t afraid to acknowledge the self-seriousness and absurdity of it all.
Whisker Wars premieres Fri, August 5 at 11 p.m. on IFC.
Taken as a sports glory confessional, Tessa & Scott: Our Journey from Childhood Dream to Gold(Anansi, 192 pages, $19.95) is pretty standard. It has more than its fair share of inspirational sound bites (“The young couple faced difficult challenges, but they were sustained by their love for skating and the knowledge that they could be champions.”). It’s also packed with glossy photographs and mildly amusing anecdotes. Yet, taken as a study in the evolution of dancing facial expressions, body chemistry, and ice dancing fashion choices, the book becomes exponentially more interesting.
In terms of facial features, Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir (Canada’s 2010 Olympic ice-dancing champs, among their many accolades) were born to dance to together. They’ve got the distinctive “Are we siblings or are we lovers?” look that’s become a prerequisite for the sport. The fuzzier the line, the better. Ambiguous sexual preference is suggested, but not mandatory. Both Scott and Tessa have creamy skin and thick – slightly wavy – chocolate brown hair. It’s versatile enough to be tightly wound back, gelled, and hair-sprayed into oblivion, pre-show. Yet, they can also rock the slightly mussed-up, sweaty, post-dance routine look. Tessa is a huge fan of ponytails, though her go-to look for the ice is an intricate top bun. She’s got a strict anti-bangs policy. Scott has a fantastic variety of smiles (including a grimace that strikes a fine balance between warm and fierce), though he’s lacking a bit in the upper-lip department.
Tessa & Scott: Our Journey from Childhood Dream to Gold, or TSOJCDG, has about four major categories of photographs. The majority are mid-performance drama shots. The rest are the post-dance glory moments, cutesy childhood pics, and special nature photography shoots with Myra Klarman. Along the way, a few hybrids crop up. For example, take the classic moment when a pre-pubescent Tessa and Scott chomped on their medals to test the veracity of the gold.
The earliest evidence of Scott and Tessa’s signature pose is a photograph from early 2000. It’s an icy and intense glare at the cameras, complimented by the arched scowl of Scott’s eyebrows and a passionate clutching of his partner’s lower thigh or shoulder. Scott has a tendency to shut his eyes in passion, Tessa’s tend to widen for the crowd.
TSOJCDG is peppered with shots from a rustic shoot the couple commissioned from photog Klarman. For some reason, Klarman thought it would be a good idea for the couple to wade knee-deep into a lake, and pose crouched in the water. Tessa and Scott seem oblivious to their soaked clothing, and it’s one of those shots where you think more about what happened before and after than the actual image you’re looking at.
Back on the ice, I’d say Tessa has a great fashion sense, especially considering the track record her peers. She favors shades of pink, crystals, velvet, lace, fringe, pearls, and sheer fabric; usually all of the above at once. Scott tends to go for a more conservative image, with a classic tuxedo or suit. Tessa’s fashion climax probably arrived at the 2010 Olympics during a compulsory Tango Romantica. With her usual dark red lipstick and pulled back hair, Tessa wore a one-shouldered burgundy gown with a black tulle overlay, her bodice decked out in ruffles and intricately webbed pearls, jewels, and floral patterns. Underneath, she went for classic leggings and not much else: it seems the publishers didn’t catch an unfortunate nip-slip captured in some of the images.
Tessa only missteps when she ventures too far deep into Dancing with the Stars territory, as she did when competing earlier in her career in Andorra. She wore a magenta strappy dress, exposing lots of skin and bedazzled within an inch of her life. Not long after, Tessa took a risk with a three tiered, sparkling number – plus fringe and a diamond choker – for the 2009 Nationals, but it looks like one that paid off, landing the jump from tacky sad to tacky fun.
Tessa & Scott: Our Journey From Childhood Dream to Gold is an enchanting look at the lives of two artistic and athletic champions. It may not be worth reading the 184 pages of copy and biographical detail, but it’s certainly worth a bookstore browse to check out over 171 shiny photographs of “big dreamers” and ice dancers Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir.
Young, Broke & Beautiful (debuting June 24) plays like an odd hybrid of those cable reality shows best saved for long airplane flights: its jerky cinematography and self-satisfaction bring back memories of MTV Cribs, its title seems fit for an Oxygen drama, and it strives for the attitude of other irreverent travel shows like Insomniac with Dave Attel.
IFC’s new travel show chases writer Stuart Schuffman, a.k.a. “Broke-Ass Stuart,” around American cities (first up: San Diego; the episode provided for review was New Orleans; and future shows focus on Baltimore, Boston, Detroit, and Memphis) as he decrees certain things “broke-ass” ($32 swamp airboat-rides) and others “totally not” broke-ass (a $10,000 Jaguar pelt in a vintage shop). There isn’t a scene which doesn’t see Broke-Ass Stuart (a sometimes local who penned cult favorite Broke-Ass Stuart’s Guide to Living Cheaply in San Francisco, among others) branding a spot with some variation on the term “authentic local hangout,” and then promptly tagging a wall, bus pole, or even child’s face with his signature Young, Broke & Beautiful bumper sticker.
If you can get past the fingerless gloves and those moments when our host points at the camera and yells something about being a “bad mamajama,” his show does yield some interesting moments with city-dwellers that fulfill YBB’s mission statement of “uncovering hidden, cheap and carefully guarded gems.” It’s amusing to watch Broke-Ass Stuart roll up for drive-through daiquiris and then stop for a brief interview with New Orleans musicians Irma Thomas and George Porter, Jr. These conversations are the highlights of the show, though they’re packed so tightly together that none last longer than a few minutes.
Young, Broke & Beautiful is a whirlwind with a “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” approach. As the credits roll and Broke-Ass Stuart is safely plain-old Stuart Schuffman again, it’s hard to ignore the feeling that a good number of the haunts showcased were worth vicarious attendance.
Young, Broke & Beautiful (pegged by its network as “a travel show for explorers and wanderers with a desire to celebrate everything weird and unique”) premieres Friday, June 24 at 11 p.m. on IFC.
