Also this issue: Cable Excess A channel-flipping journey through Philadelphia's vast TV wonderland. -Debra Auspitz, Lori Hill and Patrick Rapa Steve Coates, "Coatesy's Corner" -Interview by Patrick Rapa Larry Kaspar, PCN Tours -Interview by Debra Auspitz Bridget Small and Steven Horn, Scene 8 -Interview by Lori Hill The Hours Steven Horn, The Review -Interview by Lori Hill

March 13-19, 2003

cover story

Squeal Like a Wombat

On La Salle University's TV game show Q&A, making animal noises is just part of the fun.

by Debra Auspitz

It':s not every day that you find yourself on the set of a locally produced game show, getting your mic hooked up, nervously reviewing the rules of the game -- and silently cursing Suzanne Pleshette.

I found myself in this predicament a few weeks ago as I prepared to face off with City Paper Music Editor Patrick Rapa on the La Salle University channel's game show, Q&A. Where does Pleshette fit in? She chose to star on the worst television show in history, Good Morning Miami. A few months ago a friend and I were desperately flipping channels to avoid watching it when we discovered Q&A.

With bare-bones production values and occasionally less-than-energetic contestants, Q&A, the first and only game show in the La Salle channel's 12-year history, might be easy to dismiss. But it's oddly mesmerizing, as student hosts Steve Martin (yes, his name is Steve Martin) and Seanna Bruno banter their way through a half-hour of television that melds Match Game, Jeopardy! and Name That Tune, often with confusing results.

La Salle 56's sole employee, station manager Tonya Ellis (the rest of the station is student-run), informed me that they were looking for contestants, and suggested I pick an opponent and head out to La Salle on a Tuesday evening for a taping.

It's funny how things seem like a good idea before you actually do them.

So here I am, standing at a podium next to Rapa while Martin and Bruno get ready. Martin, a 20-year-old junior and a philosophy major, was born to be a game-show host -- imagine the love child of Alex Trebek and Guy Smiley. Bruno, a 22-year-old senior and communications major, is Martin's straight man, with a hint of Vanna White (she hands out the cards that stand for points).

A student camera operator is signaling us that we're about to start taping. The show may as well be live, because there is very minimal editing, and the episode will air that night (and for three more weeks) complete with awkward exchanges and dead air. That's part of its charm, really. Or at least that's what I tell myself as I prepare for the fact that whatever spastic moments I may have in the next 30 minutes will forever be a part of the show.

Q&A is played in three rounds -- first, Martin reads ridiculously long statements that end with a fill-in-the-blank. A panel of students writes down their answers, which the contestants try to match. Round two is straight pop-culture trivia, and the lightning round, which every good game show must have, consists of identifying pop songs played backwards.

After initial introductions, we launch right into round one. Apparently I suck at Match Game. The good thing about Q&A is that no one takes the actual game very seriously, so sucking is OK as long as one is willing to be a good sport about it. The round ends and we tally up our points (or, er, point in my case).

Martin says the words that I've been dreading since before the taping began -- "Let's get to know our contestants a little more." I hate this part of game shows, when people tell their nerdy stories ("Well, I actually have a collection of rare and slightly used breath mints") and the host and the audience pretend to care.

Bruno asks me how I got to Q&A. I launch into my Good Morning Miami story, which, if you couldn't tell from reading it earlier, isn't all that interesting. The lights seem to be getting hotter on stage.

Rapa zings his get-to-know-you question and manages to mention the fact that he's pummeling me thus far.

Perhaps now is a good time to get to know Q&A a little better. The show had its humble beginnings in a La Salle video production class, when Bruno and Q&A producer Helen Cho made an episode for a class project. Cho decided to put the show on La Salle 56, and paired Bruno with Martin, who had no previous experience with La Salle TV. "Not that I have an aversion to the spotlight," he cracks.

Q&A's spotlight seems to be growing. "When I went home over Christmas break," Bruno says, "I couldn't believe how many people knew the show."

Martin says when he was Christmas shopping over his break (both hosts hail from Northeast Philly), "The guy behind the counter said, ŒHey, I know you!' and he said, ŒYou're the host of that awful, awful game show.' And I said, ŒYou watch the show?' and he said, ŒI watch it all the time.' So I said, ŒI don't know who's worse off' and he said, ŒIt's probably you because it's your show.'"

Q&A's station, channel 56, is carried on Comcast Cable and Urban Cableworks and reaches approximately 200,000 homes, and is funded as an academic program through the university. Station alums have gone on to a wide variety of broadcast media jobs, including an impressive list of producers and on-air talent. Bruno says she intends to pursue a career in broadcasting. Asked for his plans, Martin says with a tinge of sarcasm, "I don't know if I can ever fully put [hosting] behind me."

Back on stage, round two begins with the question, "What famous talk-show host once appeared on Laverne & Shirley?" I'm blank. All I can think of is "schlemiel, schlimazel," which doesn't really help. It's Jay Leno, for those of you watching at home.

Then Martin asks, "What was the name of the robot girl on Small Wonder?" Crap TV! If there were a Ph.D. in crap TV, I'd have one. I prepare to ring in and then remember the most humiliating aspect of Q&A. You see, there are no buzzers or bells or even large sticks to bang the podium with to ring in on this show. You must make an animal noise, one that Martin and Bruno assign to you on-air. I have been assigned the wombat. Yes, the wombat. No, I don't know what a wombat sounds like now, and I certainly didn't then. On the spot, I invented some kind of high-pitched rendering of the word wombat, so, in essence, my wombat just says "wombat." "WOMBAT!" I screech at the mention of Vicki, from Small Wonder, and finally nab another point. I score two extra points after identifying the island that Balki comes from on Perfect Strangers ("WOMBAT! Mypos!") when two of the three panelists offer to do the Dance of Joy on stage. I love those panelists.

Round two ends and Rapa's still ahead, but the score is a more respectable 10-7. On to the lightning round. I immediately recognize people like Celine Dion and Seal singing backwards. Is this a good thing? I'm not sure. All I know is the wombat is on fire.

In the end, lo and behold, I've come from behind to take the game 14 to 12. I am rewarded with two boxes of Nerds and a handy dispenser.

The cameras go off and the crew quickly leaves the stage. Martin is jokingly bragging that their show "owns the Thursday night prime-time lineup." That may be a slight exaggeration, but as a weekly exercise in silliness that sometimes veers slightly toward disaster, Q&A is highly entertaining. And I think when she's willing to jump ship from her current show, Suzanne Pleshette would kick ass as a contestant.

Q&A airs on La Salle channel 56 Tuesdays at 11:30 p.m., Wednesdays at 4 p.m., Thursdays at 9:30 p.m., Fridays at 11 p.m. and Sundays at 2 a.m. and 11 p.m. For more information visit www.lasalle.edu/lasalle56.