Last week, The Martha Stewart Show celebrated its 500th episode. I've been watching the show almost daily for the past two months, and I've also been a longtime viewer of her former taped show which I had been watching until recently in syndication.
Of the two, the old, taped show is by far my favorite: Martha unadulterated. Alone, with a stove, or fabric glue, or unpotted geranium, talking directly to the camera. It's completely buttoned up, cold perfection. Yes, occasionally there's a guest, but post-production -- and some sharp elbows from Stewart -- takes away all the rough edges.
The live show, in contrast, seems like a cruel joke; and, yes, Martha's the butt. Taking such a notorious perfectionist and putting her in front of a live studio audience, unloosing on her big-mouthed celebrities (Nathan Lane, who could care less about making faux chocolate Easter bunnies), and trying to make an obviously ungenerous woman live up to the expectation that all daytime TV hosts give things to the audience, well, it's so wrong it's downright campy.
The power of Martha is in her "otherness" -- the sheer impossibility and unattainability of her perfection. See the brilliant parody "Is Martha Stewart Living?" by Tom Connor. Martha Stewart, simply put, is not a person -- she's a pure archetype best consumed in small doses (segments), which explains why her half-hour show broken into segments is more palatable than a one-hour show with her as host. Having her interact with real people (and, let's face it, her audience is not as carefully vetted as Oprah's), results in a strange juxtaposition -- something like Uncle Sam showing up on "The Moment of Truth."
Hopefully, someone will realize this and make some changes before the show has a chance to produce 500 more episodes.