It took a while for me to get to this, mainly because it took a long time to adequately sum up my sentiments toward the ending of season 9 (not to mention The Good Place and Gotham are both back on the schedule). I’ve had an unsettling, unpleasant, nasty vibe all season…not on the same level of Dancing With The Stars or The Voice, more like a nagging sense of foreboding, the feeling that this ride has gone to Bad Land and isn’t ever coming back.
In a nut shell, American Ninja Warrior jumped the shark.
It wasn’t sudden, mind you. It was a gradual process that took many years (although the starting point was definitely when Akbar Gbajabiamila replaced Johnny Mosely). But this season, I noticed that a number of unpleasant trends finally reach their awful endpoints:
- Stories. I’ve expounded on this enough times, so I’m just going to add is that seeing sob stories being trotted out on the last day of competition was the final straw. There’s no safe zone anymore, no respite, the glurge is cradle to grave now.
- Pacing. Imagine if the NFL had a twelve week preseason and three weeks that counted. Now imagine if the NFL decided to make preseason games two hours long for the first six weeks and five hours long for the second six, and on top of that the networks had the same amount of air time, meaning that a lot of games would have to be shown in part or cut out entirely. That’s how watching ANW feels like to me now.
- Arms, arms, arms. There was a time when Cityfinals required four good limbs. There were upper body tests like Devil Steps and Ring Toss, of course, but usually only one or two per course and they weren’t back breakers. Now quallies puts monstrosities like Sky Hooks and I-Beam Gap back to back. And don’t even get me started on Stage 3. “Four obstacles in a row without his feet touching the ground” should never be a part of any ANW commentator’s lexicon.
- “Must make harder! Harder!” Ever since at least Isaac Caldiero and Geoff Britten finally broke through, as soon as anyone has an easy time with an obstacle, it’s gets either ramped up or eliminated entirely. Things like Jump Hang, Doorknob Grasper, and Log Grip used to be staples; we’ll never see any variation on them again. Hell, things that were brutal, like I-Beam Cross, Hang Climb, and even Cannonball Alley were taken out simply because SOMEONE handled them (remember Nicholas Coolridge at the second All-Stars?). The worst part is that there are some quirky ideas that look like they could be a lot of fun, like, say, Area 51, got ditched thanks to All Arm Breakers All The Time.
- Emphasizing the negative. For all Eyes and Bodge crow about “inspiration” and “showing how it’s done”, there’s an astonishing, some would say disturbing, focus on the competitors not succeeding, not making it to the end, not winning the million dollars. Plastering a big red FAIL beneath the time is bad enough, but the ranking lists, for everyone who didn’t make it to the end (and remember that in the modern Cityfinals, hardly anybody makes it to the end) starts with “Failed on”. Given that the time corresponds to the last obstacle the competitor succeeded on (and it actually was stated that way for the first few seasons), you’d think that would make more sense, but no, have to put FAIL on the screen to show that the competitor FAILED, FAILED, FAILED, FAILED, FAILED!!! And to cap it all off, each episode now ends with “Well, nobody made it to the end this season, but…”. A helpful reminder that the only thing that really matters is Total Victory, and everyone else can jump in a lake, which means, naturally, that everyone can jump in a lake.
And that leads to the 900-pound oni in the room, that this is a reality TV competition that doesn’t respect the reality TV competition format, and that’s just not going to work. How a reality TV competition works is that the storylines are set well in advance, “judges” continually nudge things in the right direction, results are carefully spun to produced desired narrative, and in the end, SOMEONE WINS THE GRAND PRIZE. They can obfuscate, they can manipulate, they can cajole and wheedle and dodge and flip and flop, but in the end there’s a million dollar winner. Doesn’t matter if she wasn’t as good as last year’s winner or even completely unimpressive. It’s like the old joke, “I don’t need to be faster than the bear, I just need to be faster than you.” How NBC is running ANW now is like a quasi-sport replete with Olympic-style feel-good stories and ranking lists, but there are no overarching narratives and no one to keep things juicy (Ice, Bodge, and Lay put together have about as much juice as a cinderblock), and no one ever wins.
But where NBC really painted themselves into a corner is the million-dollar prize. Now, when it comes to competitive reality TV, there are basically two choices when it comes to prizes: A big payoff (America’s Got Talent) and maybe much smaller undisclosed awards to the runners-up (Survivor), or just a pretty trophy (Dancing With The Stars). The former requires careful budgeting but can attract a truly impressive level of talent; the latter is inexpensive and risk-free but draws mostly mediocre-to-awful amateurs. In the beginning G4 was clearly shooting for the latter, not surprising as the show this is based on, Sasuke, is a strictly amateur competition. But then NBC realized that by instituting a prize that was nearly impossible to win, they could continue to attract stronger, deeper fields without spending an extra cent. The idea was to have carrot dangling forever juuuuuust out of reach, until that one-in-a-billion competitor came along who had the strength of a titan and had everything fall just right for him one time. And for a while, it worked. In all honestly, I think they would’ve been fine with Brian Arnold taking it all in 2014; getting another year was just the icing on the cake.
The problem was that it worked too well. Once Quintuple Steps tripped up even veterans; then nobody had any trouble with it. Once Doorknob Arch taxed arms to the limit; then it was nothing special. Once Ultimate Cliffhanger was an impassible monster; then even Meagan Martin found it no trouble. And those stronger athletes NBC sought, who weren’t quite good enough? They got better. And they kept getting better. Worse, they inspired countless other athletes to train hard, get on the course, learn from their mistakes, and get better. NBC was going to get slammed for millions and millions of dollars if they didn’t do something. So they made the existing obstacles tougher. Loose steps on Devil Steps. A longer net for Jump Hang. More doorknobs on Doorknob Arch. But then competitors started building copies of these enhanced tasks, and soon they fell as well. Now, with full-time trainees and dedicated gyms, NBC is now trapped in a brutal arms race: They can’t have winners, and they’ll always have incredibly dedicated athletes focused on winning, so the only choice is to constantly have new obstacles, constantly make things harder, up and up, onward ad infinitum.
And the end result is that ANW has become incredibly…homogenized. You can pretty much predict how things are going to turn out before they even begin. Heck, as StarvingButStrong put it, you can just look at the clock. The stories are all the same, the angles are all the same, and it’s going to be 12 days of suffocating hype followed by a mass slaughter and Stage 3 picking off the remaining hardy survivors, and it’ll be all everyone failed miserably this time but wait 'till next year.
Boring.
Which means that this will probably be the last I’ll ever write about this event. I’m sorry, it’s been fun, but I’ve just about reached my limit, and honestly, I’m not sure there will be anything to write about in season 10. I’ll still have plenty of stuff about Team Ninja Warrior, though. That one’s always a blast.

A second kick misses the mark, and Martin finally makes it official. David gets another big lead. Eyes half-pleads that it’s “smaller than last time”, but it’s moot as Woods is as sharp as ever, while Coolridge appears to be at the end of his rope. Bodge proclaims “There’s no catching J.J.,” and indeed there isn’t. Okay, maybe it’s homerism. Whatever. I’ll take what I can get. Team Ronin/finish 3-2