CAMPING WITH CHRIS AND JOHN
By Shawn Hitchins

During the first snowfall of the winter season I find myself sliding across town to meet with John Simpson and Chris Carter from the hit gay-reality show, Chris and John to the Rescue. Entering the production office of John Simpson Inc, I realize that Simpson, like the weather, is in transition. His onebedroom apartment, from which he produces the show, is half filled with packing boxes.

We manoeuvre through a hallway of boxes into a living room filled with more boxes. The furniture is dismantled except for an enviable iMac that sits in the corner. While we wait for his co-star Chris Carter to arrive, Simpson and I banter. Simpson is mid-anecdote when Carter enters silently, his demeanour a sharp contrast with Simpson’s exuberance. Carter has just endured a typical rage-inducing Toronto streetcar ride.

“Well dears, who wants a drink? I know I do,” asks Simpson breaking the ice.

With Carter’s entrance comes a farce more akin to their show. The first topic of discussion is how Simpson’s toilet got clogged by a bottle of hair product and how it is less expensive to have Simpson’s fiancée buy and install a new toilet than to have a plumber make a service call.

I can see suggestions of their onscreen personalities in their mannerisms and rapport, but Chris and John are definitely applied characters. “Chris and John are severe exaggerations of our personalities,” explains Carter. “A lot has bled in from television.” Their characters have a distinct speech pattern, pregnant with sometimes verbatim pop-culture references. Their southern drawl is a direct reference to Mary Cherry, a character from the TV show Popular. Their liberal use of the endearment “dear” is a direct reference to Ms. Cleo, the television psychic.

Each episode of their show, now in its third season, pins the two outrageous personalities against a so-called real person who is in need of rescuing. Carter and Simpson source their subjects through casting calls and online postings. They prefer to use Americans because, according to them, Americans have more “exuberant personalities,” which makes for better television. “Americans are reality- and fame- hungry,” says Simpson. “It’s hard to shoot in Canada. We approached several gay organizations and were turned down. Canadians really protect their privacy.”

The two describe themselves as work addicts.

“I don’t have much of a social life outside of work,” says Simpson.

“I have no social life,” responds Carter. Considering their ages — Carter is 23 Simpson is 25 — the two bring a lot of experience to the table. Simpson, who freelances as a producer for the Slice Network, handles the production aspects. Carter, who freelances as a writer, handles the creative. They package the show as a team but Simpson is clearly the boss.

“I never imagined I’d be producing out of my living room,” he says. “I was hoping for something a bit more glamorous.”

A hectic shooting schedule keeps the two juggling multiple roles. “Our days are pretty intense. A short day is 18 hours, it also includes eating if the crew complains,” laughs Simpson. The understaffed crew of eight includes the idiosyncratic character Brian Doyle who is always referred to by his full name. Brian Doyle is not only a production assistant on the show but also a series regular.

“I was in a bar in Hamilton and Brian Doyle came over and introduced himself,” laughs Carter. “Without any knowledge of me working in television, he explained that he wanted to be a star. Brian Doyle really wants to be on TV so we gave him the opportunity.”

Carter and Simpson describe their fan base as “people in the middle of nowhere.” He hopes the show is an outlet for queers in rural communities. But the pair are reluctant to be seen as role models. “I don’t know if we are really heroes,” says Simpson.

“We get a few earnest emails from people who are more affected by our show,” says Carter. They exchange messages with fans over Facebook. One fan in particular, a teenage boy in Alberta, watches the show with his mother. “We write, ‘How’s school going?’ And he’ll write, ‘It’s okay. There’s a couple of jerks.’ And we all know what that means,” says Carter.

“I never thought I’d be dealing with people that age,” adds Simpson. “I thought I’d be dealing with older men. Forty plus is OUTtv’s demographic.”

A week later, I meet Chris at a trendy Portuguese coffee bar. He sits in the back, relaxed, sipping a coffee. Stripped of his sidekick, a dry self-effacing humour surfaces and he appears introspective about his work so far.

“I never anticipated being on television,” he says while rolling pieces of paper into tiny balls. “Watching yourself on TV you become very critical, It’s like having an unexpected baby. It brings you joy, changes your life, but it certainly wasn’t planned.” Its an understandable reaction considering Carter is not only forging a persona but also juggling the responsibilities of producing a TV show.

Thankfully the duo share complementary natures. “While he sleeps, I edit,” laughs Carter. This collaborative effort between the two best friends seems to be key. “We bounce perspectives off each other. Having people around you gives one placement. Without someone around me I lose track of time. I’ll fall asleep for five minutes and wake up thinking it’s the next day.”

Carter doesn’t seem to suffer from delusions of grandeur. He has a healthy gauge of a career in television. “I keep my expectations comfortably low,” he says. In the future, Carter sees himself working behind the scenes on a bigger show but in the interim he jokes, “Probably I’ll be getting a job at Blockbuster, considering the economy. There is no stability in this business.”

But in a time of economic crisis Carter and Simpson, with hard work and dedication, are defying the odds. After two successful seasons on OUTtv, a recent acquisition by MTV’s LOGO will see distribution of their series to as many as 30 million subscribers in the United States, opening them up to a much wider audience and more criticism. The only things Carter is worried about these days are the “scathing comments on message boards.”

Five days later I meet Simpson at a bar in Toronto’s gay village. He worms around in his chair waiting for someone to take his drink order. After 10 minutes a waitress arrives and he stumbles to a decision. Finally settling on a Cape Codder, he apologizes. “I’m so indecisive.” But Simpson isn’t indecisive. In fact he is someone who knows exactly what he wants.

“I put a lot of pressure on myself to attain my career goals,” he admits. “I can’t remember the last time I was at a club outside of shooting the show.”

Simpson is a natural comedian with cutthroat timing. He prefers work behind the camera but he isn’t turning his back on celebrity. “If someone came up to me and said ‘Will you host Entertainment Tonight?’ certainly I would.”

As a kid he dabbled in acting in commercials. His big claim to fame is a role in the TV movie Model Behavior playing opposite Kathy Lee Gifford and Justin Timberlake. He graduated from Sheridan Media Arts program and interned at PrideVision creating interstitial episodes. At PrideVision he saw an opportunity to improve on the programming, the result is the Chris and John enterprise.

Simpson’s passion is television. He is specifically interested in creating programming similar to Dawson’s Creek and The Rosie O’Donnell Show, programming that helped him through adolescence. From his career to his strict vegetarian diet, he makes purposeful choices that have a positive influence. “Everywhere you go you can find something good” is his mantra.

Chris and John portray a queer culture devoid of urban complexities and cynicism. The show is a counterpoint depiction of queer culture, a generational perspective resulting from a strengthening queer youth movement. The syrupy wholesome undertow occasionally snags the pacing and the comedic edge but it reflects its target audience.

“Different shows show different realities,” says Simpson, sipping his third Cape Codder. “Life is supposed to be fun,”

The new season of Chris and John to the Rescue, Summer Camp takes place at Camp-eet, a gay campground in Soggy-tuck Michigan. Chris and John are back to rescue a crew of fallible but lovable characters on whom the duo gleefully flex a matured acerbic humour. Strong editing and well-crafted scenarios expose the personalities; the sophomoric stunts springboard unscripted one-liners, the result is laugh-out-loud comedy.

Having witnessed Carter and Simpson’s natural and heightened personalities firsthand, I am their newest fan. Carter and Simpson foreshadow the next generation of queer television and filmmakers, a generation creating a forum in which to develop their skills before puncturing the mainstream entertainment industry.

What I appreciate most about the duo is their work ethic. Through the heavy workloads and sleepless nights, their motives remain clear.

“Well we certainly don’t do the show for the money,” they laugh. “We do it for the viewers.”



Chris and John to the Rescue airs Tuesdays at 2pm on OUTtv, the first two seasons are available on DVD. Pink Triangle Press, which publishes fab, owns a minority stake in OUTtv.

Shawn Hitchins is planning an exciting ’09. Log on to shawnhitchins.com or find him on Facebook for up to date information on appearances and shows.