The ‘Terrace House’ Panel Feels Essential In A Way That ‘Talking Dead’ Does Not

The impulse to make TV about TV makes sense. Lots of shows, especially sitcoms and reality shows, exist in part to have a sort of quasi-social presence in your life. These are characters you hang out with once a week (or for an entire weekend once a year), and if you’re ahead of your friends in a season (or if there’s no one in your area who shares your tastes), it’s nice to have another show to serve the same function.

But most American attempts to do this kind of commentary have failed. Talk shows in the Talking Dead vein are invariably bloated and uninteresting, and Watch What Happens Live is important mostly to the diehard Bravo completist. (Did literally a single human watch the Stranger Things after-show on Netflix who did not accidentally click it expecting to watch Stranger Things?) In this environment, the Terrace House panel stands out even more strongly.

The Japanese reality show, which debuted its new season Opening New Doors on Netflix last week, is as cozy as a reality show can be—six people live in a very nice house, have free use of a pool and two cars, and otherwise go about their lives. It’s a very pleasant show, but that fact can make it hard to get into, since interpersonal relationships move at an actual, human pace. (A Terrace House date may be mesmerizing, but you’re probably going to have to watch a decent amount of good-natured fumbling first.) For the American viewer, then, it’s crucial to have the panel breaking down what you just watched.

The Terrace House panel is composed of six Japanese media personalities, ranging from the aggressive and goofy comedian and variety show host Ryota Yamasato to easily embarrassed young star actor Kentaro to seasoned pop star and actress Yu, who frequently scandalizes her co-hosts by talking explicitly about sex. They watch Terrace House—the very same material you and I have just finished watching—and comment on it, taking the place of commercial breaks. It’s like having friends with you to dish during ads, but friends who are much funnier and more quick-witted than your friends. (Sorry.) They discuss the scenery of the various group outings, ship different members (sometimes to a degree that borders on creepy), and, above all, healthily roast everyone on the show.

Here’s a specific, and illuminating example: At the end of Terrace House: Aloha State (the season set in Hawaii), house member Taishi Tamaki prepared to declare his love for fellow member Chikako Fukuyama. Taishi had entered the house in search of “a love worth dying for,” and undergone a series of misfired relationships with the female house members, who he put off by being alternately very serious about dating them and then distant when he realized that maybe he was overcommitting himself. Every time something went wrong, he would go out to the pool and practice kendo (fighting with a wooden sword).

After Chikako joined the cast, it seemed that Taishi had finally found what he was looking for, and, accordingly, he painstakingly planned a big, romantic evening. To cheer Taishi on, the hosts had custom shirts made reading “Shinuhodo No Koi,” or, “A Love Worth Dying For,” with a stylized drawing of a guilty samurai—drawn by Yamasato. “It’s like supporting your soccer team by wearing their uniform,” host and actor Yoshimi Tokui says, preparing the hosts to be on the edge of their seat for the whole episode, just like the audience. (Spoiler alert: Chikako reciprocates Taishi’s feelings. They now have a very successful Instagram brand.) Willingly self-deprecating, Taishi wears his “Shinuhodo No Koi” shirt during his kendo practice the afternoon before his big date, delighting the hosts.

After finishing the episode (and, admittedly, the next episode, which was the Aloha State finale—I’m bad with Terrace House impulse control), I tried to find where I could buy a “Shinuhodo No Koi” shirt. After all, the hosts, or some production assistants, went to all the trouble to design them, and it’d be insane for Fuji TV not to license them or create their own limited run, right? At the very least, Netflix knows an opportunity to spam its consumers when it sees one. But no, there was none available—at least officially. After several months, I caved and bought a knockoff “Shinuhodo No Koi” shirt, grumpy that I was unable to give the Terrace House hosts my money directly. Unlike the corporate synergy that characterizes the prestige post-show, the Terrace House hosts are doing it for the love of the game.

Eric Thurm’s writing also appears in GQ, Esquire, Real Life, and eventually in a book about board games he is writing for the NYU Press and Los Angeles Review of Books. He is also the founder, producer, and host of Drunk Education, a comedic-academic event series that has absolutely nothing to do with TED.

Watch Terrace House: Aloha State on Netflix