It was only a matter of time before Baywatch got the “ooh, look at the 90s!” documentary treatment. But the four-part After Baywatch: Moment in the Sun is a disappointment, because it seems stuck between two worlds: how can it take the astonishingly popular lifeguard melodrama seriously enough to examine it as a cultural object, while also acknowledging that, as a TV show, it remains best known for slow-motion running in skimpy beachwear and, for aficionados, a surfboard-stealing giant octopus in a cave?
The first episode does it no favours at all. Baywatch was many things – ridiculous, absurd, entertaining and a globe-conquering pop culture phenomenon – but this programme is so dry it is almost impressive. Baywatch was about “rescue, compassion and altruism”, we are told, and it came from “honest and altruistic roots”. It just so happened that everyone splashing through these massive waves of altruism was gorgeous and ripped. “You had to be pretty, else you weren’t going to be on the show,” explains Billy Warlock, who played Eddie Kramer in the early years.
It’s a shame it opts for this po-faced path early on, because there are plenty of juicy anecdotes peppered throughout the later episodes. There are also substantial interviews with almost all the big names involved, from David Hasselhoff and Pamela Anderson to Nicole Eggert, Erika Eleniak and Jeremy Jackson (and what a story he has to tell). Apparently, the role of Hobie was between Jackson, who got the part, and a slightly older up-and-comer called Leonardo DiCaprio. “I said, no no no, take the kid,” recalls Hasselhoff, who frequently appears to be operating in Accidental Partridge mode. Carmen Electra admits that she still shows people how to run in that famous slow-motion style. The men talk of early morning shoots in the ocean, and how they dealt with “shrinkage”. But the real gossip is fairly limited, which is odd, because I can’t imagine many people will be watching this to find out more about Baywatch’s altruistic roots.
According to one of the creators, the idea for the show came to him when he was smoking a joint at the beach, wondering why there had been no dramas about lifeguards, who held life and death in their hands. As stoner lightbulb moments go, it’s probably one of the most profitable in history: at its peak, in 1996, Baywatch had an estimated 1.1 billion viewers around the world. It still holds the Guinness World Record for the most watched TV series. But After Baywatch fumbles the most intriguing stories and leaves them hanging, limply. For instance: the show was cancelled after its first season, but owing to Hasselhoff’s popularity as a pop star in Germany, it was syndicated around the world, then given the reprieve that not only saved it but made it a sensation. Perhaps this is a matter of personal taste, but I think drawing a clear line from the fall of communism to the rise of the red swimsuit deserves more than a five-minute segment.
There is also a strong undercurrent that keeps towing the story back to a discussion about American prudishness and the mainstream TV appeal of ever-plunging necklines. Eleniak recalls that, as she had already posed for Playboy, the showrunners had to fight to keep her on early Baywatch, such were the double standards of the time. But soon, a Playboy-to-Baywatch pipeline became firmly established, and it ran in both directions, with the magazine picking up models from the cast, and sending other models to the cast. There isn’t enough space given, or care taken, to unravel that moral complexity in any satisfying way. Similarly, when it discusses the whiteness of the show, it feels half-examined and rushed.
There is a lot of material here, and it would have made for a solid hour or two, but Baywatch was better known for its taut abs than lean storylines, and like its subject, this meanders. It wobbles uncomfortably between a celebration of the show and mea-culpa hand-wringing. One talking head, on the subject of body image, says that Baywatch created a craze for fitness that “maybe was good or wasn’t good”. In a way, that sums up this documentary. It isn’t quite sure if Baywatch maybe was good or wasn’t good. Many of its stars say that even now, having Baywatch on their CV means they are not taken seriously, and this doesn’t know if it is taking them seriously or not.
I kept thinking of the wild Muscles & Mayhem, which told the outrageous story of American Gladiators, and wondering how Baywatch – equally as outrageous, another totem of the 90s – has ended up with a history as demure as this.
• After Baywatch: Moment in the Sun is on Disney+ now.
