'Chicks in Chains,' 'Coolio' hit new low in reality TV

As if "American Idol" weren't already bad enough, imagine a like-minded singing competition between "beautiful, talented and troubled women" - who've been in jail.

That's the premise behind the new cable reality series "Redemption Song," although personally I prefer the title "Chicks in Chain-Chain-Chains."

"Society's judged them," acknowledges the narrator at the start of the premiere at 10 p.m. Wednesday, Oct. 29, on Fuse. "Now it's our turn."

Call me Solomon, but I say we simply slice this baby in half and leave it at that. At very least, I'm finding it guilty of desecrating a beloved song title by Bob Marley.

Even as determinedly trash TV, "Redemption Song" tests the limits of schadenfreude. Lesbian Nyia admits that when she came out, "My son's father beat me like crazy when I told him."

Still, it's not just sympathy (or even her lack of a bra) that has me rooting for her to stick around. She has an acid tongue where her fellow competitors are concerned, calling Elisa "a little retarded cheerleader" and saying that Mixi "is working with marbles and Gummi Bears" for brains.

Mixi, in fact, turns out to be well-named, because she's never met a mixed drink she didn't like. When Nyia gets depressed about missing her kids, Mixi lightens the mood by saying, "So, shots?"

That's this show's recipe for success: Take a bunch of desperate women with a "last chance" for fame if not notoriety, add liquor and stir by forcing them to compete against one another.

That's exactly what happens in Wednesday's premiere. Put up in an El Lay mansion, they're served Champagne, then more free drinks at the Roxy nightclub before being shipped off to another club for an "ambush performance," because host Chris Jericho - yes, the Chris Jericho (if you have to ask, please don't) - has previously declared they have to be ready to sing anytime, anyplace, anywhere.

The songs they're assigned: "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," "My Own Worst Enemy" and, of course, "Rehab."

Me, I'm hoping they get a shot at Marianne Faithful's "Why'd Ya Do It" or X-Ray Spex's "Oh Bondage, Up Yours!" but I'm not holding my breath.

If you feel sorry for the people who've locked themselves into this series, then you can warm up for it by watching "Coolio's Rules" when it debuts at 9 p.m. today on Oxygen. This show finds the passe rapper with the exploding skull-top braids starring in his own reality series, because as he succinctly puts it, "Ain't no 401k's in hip hop."

He too is looking for a second chance - at being a father for his four kids: Artisha, Brandi, Artis and Jackie, ranging in age from 20 to 15.

"Now they're almost grown," he says, "and I don't have much time to teach them what my momma taught me."

Which, no doubt, is how to do your hair like that and cut holes in all your caps so it stands up just so.

All right, it's an admirable premise, but something smells funky about this show, and it ain't the greens in Coolio's "ghetto gourmet" cooking. It's as phony as Coolio's wack rap rhymes. When he finds the kitchen still a mess in the morning, he spreads the dishes and the leavings all over the house - including pasta in the kids' beds. Their plotting against him has a made-for-TV feel to it as well, as does the clueless white guy who hires Coolio and his bodyguard/sous chef to cater an event.

Coolio gets the inspiration to teach the kids by roping them into it. "I just think they're gonna rise," he says, and yup an uprising is exactly what he gets.

So, Aware One, consider yourself warned. Your Friendly Neighborhood TV Critic has once again watched so you don't have to - not unless you take a special masochistic pleasure in sadistic TV that glories in the suffering of others.

• Ted Cox writes Tuesday and Thursday in L&E and Friday in Sports and Time out!