Our TV critic recommends a wild and wide-ranging documentary series about the world of hot pepper enthusiasts.
Documentaries about niche subcultures abound: dog dancing, science fairs, yo-yos. Few if any include as much on-screen vomiting as the Hulu series “Superhot: The Spicy World of Pepper People,” but then, few cover quite as much ground.
“Pepper” follows the overlapping pursuits of a handful of pepper enthusiasts, whose interests lie in the hottest of the hots, peppers that induce sweating, crying and retching within minutes. Some of the featured subjects are more into the horticultural side, while others are more into online public masochism. Many acknowledge the overlap between drug use and pepper-eating, that the thrill of spiciness has replaced more dangerous and illicit substances in their lives, that once they found peppers, capsaicin became their drug of choice.
The try-hard glibness of a lot of the narration (voiced by Ben Schwartz) undercuts the show’s more intriguing ideas, as if “Pepper” didn’t always know what it has. This is, deeply, a show about social media, about being famous to 15 people, about the rush and reality of online connections. It is also about the ways in which consuming too much internet narrows your vision and imagination, until you forget that posting is not the same thing as existing. It’s a big world out there, filled almost entirely with people who have never heard of any of your heroes and never will.
Much like the featured growers who combine strains to cultivate extreme heat, “Pepper” combines documentary and reality formats to keep its 10 episodes moving. Early on, the show’s most endearing heroine, a Chicago nurse, “comes out” to her co-worker pals about her pepper and hot sauce hobby. It’s a scene straight out of “Queer Eye” or any number of real estate shows, an awkward party where a teary sweetheart receives support. Another episode is knockoff “Top Chef,” with people vying for a chance to develop a hot sauce for a food chain. (I’m genuinely surprised this was not developed as its own stand-alone show.)
The segments about competitive pepper-eating mirror every sport documentary, with sage champions eventually compensating for their relentlessness by turning to Buddhist philosophy to help with “managing desire.” When some growers become extra suspicious about thievery and back-stabbing, “Pepper” apes Netflix’s true crime aesthetics.
“Pepper” opts for breadth instead of depth, and what it lacks in insight it makes up for in volume of people calling each other “brother.” This is a series with experts who joke about putting toilet paper in the freezer, so maybe it isn’t reasonable to expect some mention that humans have been fascinated by altered states and ritualized body mortification throughout history. Fair enough. There’s still more than enough heat here for a fun, edifying ride. (Again, though: lots and lots of throwing up.)
Source: Television - nytimes.com
