Monopoly, The Game Show; The Flop

AKA, The 40 Most Popular Board Games According to Ranker, Part 13 – Monopoly

Ever since the Quiz Show scandals of the 1950s, Merv Griffin found little competition in the dead industry. This provided him with free reign as numerous odd concepts were pitched to middling success. Throughout the 1960s and 70s, America liked Merv’s game shows enough to call back test pilots for a season or two, but rarely enough for any one show stick.

All this changed in the second half of the 1980s. Jeapordy!, once a cute reverse-trivia show sputtering forward since 1964, hit a revitalized stride under the leadership of its new host, Alex Trebek in 1984. It’s success coincided with the then novel interest in electronic trivia games and surprising attendance to trivia nights at local bars. Meanwhile, Wheel of Fortune, which first aired in 1975 and paired the classic Hangman game with a giant roulette wheel, converted a steady audience into a cult following under the guidance of co-hosts Pat Sajak and Vanna White starting in 1982.

By 1990, Merv Griffin Enterprises was riding high off the back of two smash syndicated hits. The company endeavored to continue this streak, introducing new shows to their line up. But outside of the slow burn that was Dance Fever, one season of Headline Chasers, and an unsold pilot of Winfall, MGE couldn’t strike paydirt a third time. The popularity of Jeapordy! and Wheel of Fortune surely couldn’t last forever. It looked like the studio could only move in one direction: down.

So by 1990, MGE switched tactics. If they couldn’t create a new hit show for daytime television, then they needed to double down and move their existing hit shows into prime time. Super Jeapordy!, as conceptualized, would be a one-hour trivia bonanza featuring the top 35 contestants of the Trebek era in a head-to-head elimination tournament. ABC loved the idea.

To be honest, ABC loved any reasonable idea for Saturday nights at eight. The station’s time slot was flailing behind the three other major networks. Saturday on ABC was stale, hardened by its final seasons of Mr. Belvedere and a revived Mission: Impossible, as well as the failed shows H.E.L.P. and Sunset Beat (why would you watch a police drama when you could flip over to Fox and watch the sizzling new reality show COPS?) as well as the disappointing Elvis—Good Rockin’ Tonight.

But the one hour format of Super Jeapordy! was a deal breaker. While Jeapordy! was a proven success in the daytime market, ABC felt viewers would tire of an hour of trivia featuring answers beyond the pale of normal contestants. ABC passed along an ultimatum: Jeapordy! gets a half-hour block. Tops.

Unwilling to cede a half hour of prime television, MGE returned with a counter-proposal. A one hour block of two thirty minute shows, Super Jeapordy! followed by Monopoly, an intellectual property MGE recently solidified after pursuing Parker Brothers through years of negotiation.

The makers of Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune were building a game show based on the most profitable board game of all time? How could this go wrong? ABC signed MGE for thirteen prime time episodes over the Summer of 1990.

How Could This Go Wrong?

The person in the foreground of this picture is Patty Maloney, a little person with a long and varied career as a walk-on in a great number of shows. If she could be ‘known for’ anything, it’s for being the back-up actor for Twiki from Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, or as Lumpy, the Wookie child in the Star Wars Christmas Special. In the Monopoly pilot, Patty was given the role of Rich Uncle Pennybags. As the action moved around a child-sized replica of the Monopoly board, Patty was the contestants token, brandishing a cane, and waving to the audience.

While Patty probably appreciated the work, monocles popped at local stations when they saw the carnival side show in progress. As one station director recalled:

“They had a midget dressed up in a tuxedo and he’d jump around. That didn’t fly, folks.”

Monopoly’s faux pas wasn’t lost on Peter Tomarken, host of Monopoly’s pilot episode and probably best known as the former host of Press Your Luck. In a later interview, he expressed his disdain for the shtick, saying:

“[The producers told me] ‘You can’t talk to this person because it’s an entity and she has a woman’s voice.’ I remember saying, ‘You mean there’s a human being in front of me constantly and I can’t talk to it and I treat it as if it’s an inanimate object? I thought the days of slavery were over.’ it was tasteless.”

A number of station managers agreed. Monopoly was originally planned for syndication, but after reviewing the pilot only twenty stations signed on. By packaging Monopoly with Super Jeapordy!, MGE planned to flip a failed project into a surprise success.

Mini-Pennybags would not pass Go. To further distance themselves from the failed pilot, MGE didn’t renew Peter Tomarken’s contract. And in one of the most mystifying promotional moves possible, they put forward Mike Reilly, a man whose entire IMDB page consists of “Monopoly – Host” and “Jeapordy! – Episode #6.61 – Himself (contestant).”

I should point out that the IMDB page is not complete. Mike Reilly was also a contestant on the pilot episode of Monopoly. When I was a teenager singing on a local nursing home tour, my mother was certain to remind me that no matter where I performed, that I should always bring my A-game. You never know who is paying attention. Evidently this advice extends to game shows. What kind of impression do you need to leave as a game show contestant for Merv to not only call you back to appear on another show, but then entrust you with the company’s most important job of the decade?

Whatever skill Merv found in Mike, it wasn’t rapport. Mike didn’t interact with contestants with anything approaching friendliness. He didn’t have time. In order to squeeze a traditionally ninety minutes game of Monopoly into the twenty-two minute game show format, numerous elements were removed, and chattiness was on the chopping block. There was no walking down the line, resting a foot on the platform, and fraternizing with contestants. No shaking winners’ hands and asking what they would do with the money. Mike Reilly’s job was to look young, smile, and spit out rules with the clipped pace of an auctioneer who’s a half hour behind schedule and standing in the pouring rain.

A Cavalcade of Rules

I’m not convinced that converting Monopoly into a game show format is impossible. Clearly, it worked for Scrabble. But it’s telling that the 2015 show Monopoly Millionaires’ Club doesn’t resemble Monopoly in the slightest, and instead fills time with push your luck mechanics themed around Monopoly iconography.

Monopoly is involved. Most players don’t bother to play by all the rules, often accidentally house-ruling themselves into marathon runs. To make this work, we need to do more than cut a few corners. We need to bleed the rules dry. We’re breaking Monopoly down to its base components.

Chopping Monopoly down to a half hour block means players need to gain properties at a madcap pace. Let’s say ten minutes of racing around the board with little time to think or negotiate. Instead, the first time a player lands on a property, they can either buy or put up for auction the entire three property monopoly. Bilbo Pennybaggins can no longer be our pawn, but the idea of simultaneously driving all the players around Atlantic City in a jumbo party bus is sound. Chance and Community Chest can apply to all players simultaneously, but it would be best if we focused on cards that benefit certain players, such as ‘House Repairs’, ‘Advance to Illinois’, and a ‘Pay Poor Tax’ card where the players pay money to the person in last place.

In round two, the players jump back in the party bus, careen around the board, smashing into properties until the feds arrive, time is called, and the person with the most money wins. “Tell them what they won, Johnny! And tune in next week for another exciting game of Monopoly!” Cue the music.

Instead, this is how the game began:

“If you’re ready, we’re on Go, and we’re going to move over to Mediterranean Avenue, a $60 property, and the battle begins. Players, all correct answers on this block will begin with the letter ‘A’. Here is your clue: Don Ho “Hello”.

The people at MGE added a crossword puzzle element. They took Monopoly, one of the most complex games that casual audiences know, and combined it with an entirely different game.

In theory, this could work out. Again, it worked for Scrabble. But the Scrabble game show makes no attempt to play like an actual game of Scrabble. Players answer crossword style clues while letters randomly appear on the board. Words are placed in a pre-determined grid. If you asked someone who watched the show and never played a game of Scrabble what the board game is like, they would tell you it must be a crossword puzzle with a timer.

MGE could have done this with Monopoly. But of all the iconography that Monopoly supplies, the most recognizable icon is the shape of the board itself. People are drawn to rolling dice and seeing where they go. Many people are excited by the prospect of owning property and charging rent. Monopoly celebrates the vice of greed in a culturally acceptable way. MGE could not fight the allure of the board. But they didn’t know how to make a game show interesting to audiences without using question and answer hooks. They were cooks in a new test kitchen without limits, and they used every exotic ingredient and shiny tool at their disposal.

And it shows. Players won properties in round one by answering clues. But it would be meaningless to travel the board if players didn’t land on an established monopoly. Those are where the big payouts happen. So whenever they would leave a color in which multiple players owned properties, a convoluted round of new clues would be offered and answered favoring the player with the most properties until only one player controlled the monopoly.

In round two, as the dice are rolled and players moved around the board, money exchanged wallets as yet more clues are offered and answered so contestants could attempt to steal each other’s properties. And, since winning a single property still isn’t meaningful in Monopoly, this lead to yet another round of more clues and answers until that set of properties was firmly protected, or firmly taken away.

It’s overbearing, challenging to follow, and sucked the tension out of a dramatic lucky/unlucky roll of the dice. But even in this state, the game was salvageable. New game shows often alter rules between seasons, once they understand what works and what doesn’t. The host can be replaced. The complicated method of securing a monopoly could be done using fewer questions and answers, which would give more time for player interaction, interesting tactical investments, or high stakes negotiations to take the spotlight. It would always be an unfortunate hybrid of Crossword and Monopoly, but it could still be enjoyable to watch. That is, if the game wasn’t railroaded by it’s final round.

Thanks for Playing

For many game shows, the final round is a chance to distill everything good and exciting about the game into a blistering three minute bonus round, where players are primed to win a truly outstanding jackpot. Jeopardy! features Final Jeopardy: a single question where players can go double or nothing with their entire night’s winnings on the line. Wheel of Fortune features a final puzzle where tonight’s winner is allowed three letters, a vowel, and ten seconds to solve. The Price is Right features the Showcase Showdown, a head to head match of two contestants struggling to guess the price of a heaping pile of prizes well beyond their modest personal spending limits.

In Monopoly, players roll dice to go around the board. If they don’t land on a ‘Go to Jail’ space, and get back to Go in five rolls of the dice, they win.

It’s anti-climatic. We spent the last twenty minutes watching this contestant answer question after question, rebuffing the competition to stand in front of a punch bowl and roll the dice five times. Our host Mike Reilly isn’t helping, adding as much enthusiasm as an overworked announcer at a racetrack forever cursed to restate which horse is in the lead.

But of course this is how the show ends. Because the first round of the game starts in a more confusing and rushed state than most other games’ final round. Monopoly can not ramp up the stakes. What would that even look like? A person playing yet another game of Monopoly against Mirror Universe Pennybags, while answering crossword puzzle clues, in under a minute? There’s no time for that, so the producers instead peeled back. Remove the puzzles. What does Monopoly in a minute even look like? It looks like someone rolling dice. I guess it’s time to roll the dice and give out prizes based on a person’s elite dice rolling skills.

While Super Jeopardy!’s performance proved acceptable, viewer retention suffered after 8:30pm. On some Saturdays, like on August 11th, 1990, Monopoly was the third lowest share prime time show among the networks for the entire night. The only show it consistently beat was the Tracy Ullman Show, which continued to win awards while it floundered on Fox a full hour later. Monopoly’s thirteenth and final episode was preempted by America’s Funniest People, an attempt to double down on the success of America’s Funniest Home Videos. Monopoly would not be renewed for another season. It would never make syndication.

For Mike Reilly, this was a rags to riches to rags story. A Miami waiter who won some parting gifts on a game show, was noticed and thrust into hosting his own a prime time show, then faded into immediate and sudden obscurity. The Summer of fame must have been such a confusing time. Back in June of 1990, Mike told the L.A. Times:

“With all the support they’re giving the show, it’s like playing for Notre Dame… The only variable is me–I’m the only one who can screw up.”

I can only hope he didn’t take this sentiment to heart. Monopoly was rife with terrible decisions by producers who were too stuck in their formulas to figure out how to create a transformative game show. Considering his role, Mike did well. He thought he was firing footballs for the University of Notre Dame. But it turns out that he was playing quarterback for the Notre Dame Cathedral.

A Technical Note, Which Is Considerably Less Interesting Than the Article Itself, So If You Stopped Reading Here, I’d Understand

There’s been a number of changes to the rank order of the 40 most popular board games on Ranker since I started this article series waaay back in 2015. Some of that is on me. While I like the overall direction this series took, I could have set aside other projects to finish this series faster.

Most of the games that were popular in 2015 are popular now. The numbers shuffled around, but not in a truly meaningful way. House on Haunted Hill, Draughts/Checkers, and Mancala moved into the top forty. Balderdash, Reversi, and Love Letter, which are the three games I gave honorable mentions to, are here as well. That’s a nice pat on the back for the author.

But Monopoly isn’t in the number two spot anymore. It’s now number fifty-three.

This wasn’t some huge upset with players downvoting Monopoly and upvoting everything else. Because Monopoly is missing a lot of its votes, both good and bad. Maybe it’s sabotage? I noticed, while watching the list about a year and a half ago, that Monopoly not only was no longer in the number two spot, but was removed from the list entirely. Since then, it was write-in voted back on the list, and fought it’s way to fifty-three.

How that happened is a mystery to me. Monopoly has a bad name for itself among ‘serious gamers’. So it’s not strange to imagine someone targeting it. But later, Scrabble fell from the (then) number two spot, and off the list as well. It’s back, and moving up the list at twenty-three. Which may reinforce that while Monopoly is the more popular of the two games, Scrabble is the more beloved.

I don’t know why anyone would target Scrabble. Most people who don’t like playing Scrabble still appreciate it for what it is. And based on where Draughts/Checkers once was, and where it is now at number thirty-two, I’m willing to bet this once happened to it as well. Ranker is buggy. The image for Mousetrap is currently the ColecoVision 8-bit video game cartridge, though the description is for the 1963 board game.

I mention all this because some people are bound to go to the Ranker list of best board games of all time, fail to see Monopoly in the number two spot, and presume there’s something wrong with me. There is. It takes me five years to complete fifteen articles. Frankly, I’m happy Ranker even exists after five years. The Internet hasn’t been as kind to a number of other websites.