Gene Simmons Family Jewels TV Review

Gene Simmons Family Jewels
A&E
Saturdays, check local times
30 mins.

I decided to review this television program in honor of Gene's birthday. Happy Birthday, Oh Great One!

I remember KISS. Oh my yes… I remember the first time I ever saw KISS. My brothers had been babbling about them for some time, but I hadn’t paid much attention, seeing as I was a little kid, maybe five years old. And then, one night, on tv, I saw them. Alien-looking, frightening and fascinating, towering men (due, no doubt to their stacked boots…those things were bitchin’, hey) dressed in black leather costumes adorned with chains and spikes and other unidentifiable things. They had streaming black hair. And they were painted. What, I ask you, was there not to like?

There’s a review about the movie here. A really good, funny review, although I could be biased by saying that.

I guess, according to the Internet Movie Database, it was bad. Not only bad, but bad, bad, bad, and one more…bad. Four bads. Even if you’re the greatest KISS fan of all time, you can’t just ignore four bads, can you? Well, since I’m not the greatest KISS fan of all time, I really can’t say if you can ignore it, but I certainly can’t. So I accept it, the movie was bad. Aside from the fakeness of the special affects, which can be blamed on the fact that this was the seventies, and even Star Wars looks fakey nowadays, well, the story had the band members possessing magic talismans that gave them super powers. Yeah, really. So the movie was bad.

But so were the members of KISS. And by “bad”, this time, I mean “bad” in the best possible way. I had never seen anything like them. I hadn’t even imagined anything like them. They were all undeniably cool, but you gotta hand it to Gene Simmons. He was the baddest, and arguably the coolest, of them all. I think he was supposed to be some kind of a demon. I didn’t care. I just thought he was really scary looking, but because of some vague memory I had of the movie, I knew he couldn’t really be evil. I was torn between him and the drummer, because, well, I was a little girl and the dude had cat whiskers painted on his face, and that, my friends, is about irresistible to a little girl (God I hope no pedophiles read that and get any ideas) but, in the end, Gene won out. I remained fascinated by him throughout my childhood and teen years. It wasn’t until I had children of my own and got pulled, kicking and screaming, into the Unspeakable Torture of Being an Adult, that KISS sort of faded into the background of my memories. Fond memories, however.

So it was with something very much like delight when I saw Gene Simmons on TV one night. Oh, I recognized him, alright, although time has been less than kind to his manly features. And he doesn't have paint on (at least, not all the time) and I haven't seen any fake blood pouring down his chin yet. BUT. He still thinks he is the king of hard rock, though, you can tell it by every movement of every atom in his body. He was born to Rock, you know, and that just doesn’t go away because he’s old enough to get a senior discount on his Whopper at Burger King. Oh no, this dude is going to rock until he clocks out. And, I believe, he'll party every day.

The show, Gene Simmons Family Jewels, is an unashamed rip-off of another popular “reality” series, a little show called, oh what was it? Ah yes, The Osbournes. You know, where all of us Ozzy fans were really, really disappointed to find out that our bat-biting hero is actually a stumbling, mumbling, absolutely un-understandable old man who probably pees in his shoe if Sharon doesn’t direct him to take a bathroom break? Don’t get me wrong- I love Ozzy. I’ve been to see him in concert several times and he is the Showman of Showmen. I practically fainted when he came out on stage for the first time, singing in that one-of-a-kind whiney-growl…”Miiiiister Crowleeeyy…” But offstage, well, if you’ve seen the show, you know what I mean. He’s a little embarrassing.

Now Gene is another story altogether. He is still fully functioning, proud as a peacock, and a (seemingly) genuinely intelligent and funny kind of guy. He lives with his long-time mate (but not wife) Shannon Tweed, she of Playboy Playmate fame, and their two children, Nick and Sophie. Their kids are not foully obnoxious like some rockstar’s children I could mention, but actually smart, likeable people. Sophie is into sports and literature and Nick is into creating his own rock band

(and is not adverse to a little help from his famous dad, although he does tell him in one part, where his dad whispers into some woman's ear right before she begins to gush over the wonderfulness of Nick... “Dad, don’t do that.” Gene: “Do what?” Nick: “Don’t tell her to pretend she likes me.” Gene: “Oh, ok, sorry.” Heehee).

The kids are intelligent. They get good grades. There doesn’t seem to be evidence of substance abuse problems, again, unlike other….oh, you know where I‘m going with that. Shannon is the long-suffering wishes-she-were-wed girl, who stages a mock wedding just to freak the crap out of her non-hubby who apparently hates marriage. Lately, she’s been talking about another baby, and seeing a fertility doctor, and the part where she has to get a “sample” from her boytoy was genuinely hilarious.

It brings out a strange mixture of nostalgia and the feeling of being in on a secret- to get to see Mr. Twelve Inch Tongue in his element, kicked back with a sandwich, being vain about his hair, having a driving contest with his seventeen year old son. I like it. So if you’re a KISS fan, or even if you’re not, you might want to tune in and look at yet another show about the lives of the rich and famous- but one that’s actually kinda good.