At the upper reaches of the cable guide loiters G4, a TV channelaimed at young men who don't watch that much TV. The home page ofits Web site barely states that it is a TV channel, buryingprogramming information beneath video game reviews and previews,tech news and dispatches from dork conventions.
One of its hosts recently introduced a segment on the death ofnewspapers by saying, "The Internet killed TV," then laughed athimself for it, although without retracting the statement. G4 claimsto be the most popularly video-podcasted cable network in the land.Granted, it is not as if Bravo is falling all over itself to produce"Top Chef: Between-Meals Snack," but that superlative has got to beworth something.
The channel offers a window into the attitudes of a particularsubset of young Americans. One detects a whiff of D&D in the air andalso a bit too much Axe body spray. These aren't exactly dudes. Thatterm connotes guys who get out a bit more often and have a greaterinterest in spectator sports. The athletic event of greatestinterest to the G4 man is a ninja warrior obstacle course.
The G4 man can act juvenile, but the fact that he might be,literally, a juvenile mitigates the situation. He's possessed offundamentally good taste. Upcoming highlights of G4's film series,"Movies That Don't Suck," include "The Goonies," "Fist of Fury,""Wayne's World," "Flash Gordon" and -- something for the art-house crowd -- "The Host," an elegant Korean film that features agiant monster.
The channel's signature program is a nightly blitz ofinfotainment called Attack of the Show! Its staples include soft-core pinup girls, hard-core gadget porn and discussions of sci-fiflicks and first-person shooter games that, unlike so much ontelevision, appeal to reason.
In fact, the discussions are so articulate that they cause aviewer uninitiated in G4's slice of culture to question whether he'sthe dork. Panning the trailer for James Cameron's "Avatar," hostKevin Pereira said that it seemed to depict "the Blue Man Groupplaying a private party for Master Chief in 'Jurassic Park.' "
This sounds a ring of playfulness even to viewers who have tobreak out the OED to look up what a master chief is. Pereira's co-host is Olivia Munn, also thoughtful, slightly more goofy, and gamefor dressing up as Princess Leia (in the Jabba's Palace bikini, itshould go without saying) and plunging into an oversize pie(chocolate with whipped-cream topping). While reviewing and/orproduct-placing a deodorant, Munn and Pereira sniffed the armpits ofa sumo wrestler on a treadmill.
G4's latest TV program is "Two Months. Two Million.," acongenial reality show about a four-man posse of professional onlinepoker players in their 20s. They less resemble the Marlboro Men ofESPN's "World Series of Poker" than the blackjack mathematicians ofthe book "Bringing Down the House."
In the premiere, the gentlemen settle into temporary lodgingsoutside Las Vegas and begin training to storm the Strip -- to comeout of their virtual shells, as it were. It is a reflection ofadolescent sexual anxiety that they have an in-house tournament todetermine which loser has to inhabit a teddy-bear bedroom paintedprincess pink.
Early on, the guys sit shoulder-to-shoulder at a bank of screensrivaling NORAD's and play cards online, sometimes while slobbingaround wearing boxers and pizza detritus. Occasionally, ininterviews, they say the silly things that only young men can: "Danibeing 22 and us being 25, 26, we're kind of old school."
At other times, they tick off the qualities of their dream girls:looks, brains, "the ability to prioritize her tasks." It is a creditto their likability that their executive chef vouches for them asdown-to-earth guys. As if in reply, one of the castmates later urgesthe others to pull themselves away from the screens: The help "isgonna get offended if we don't."
Such nice manners, these boys. In its joystick, energy-drink,fanboy-ism, G4 is a positive sign for civilization.
Patterson is Slate's television critic.
