Display: Trash Talkin' -- How Jerry Springer's Brand Of Full- Contact TV Is Boxing Its Way To The Top Of The Ratings

"The Jerry Springer Show," noon and midnight on KTZZ-TV.

Like many popular neighborhood bars, Beth's Annex in Green Lake draws 'em in for the fights. In the front room, regulars belly up to the bar, where co-manager Jackie Clemens serves up foamy grog and jokes with patrons as the television takes center stage.

Roars and laughter cut the air at the sight of the clashes. As the Beth's crowd gleefully watches, opponents hurl bleeped-out epithets and loaded accusations. They're on the edge of their chairs, waiting for someone on the TV to throw the first punch, rip out a tuft of hair or - dare they dream? - take a bite out of their adversary.

This isn't a rerun of the Tyson-Holyfield match or a wrestling bout on pay-per-view. It's midnight at Beth's, and the TV set is tuned to "The Jerry Springer Show."

"We started watching it about three or four months ago, when there started to be a little more physical confrontation and it started getting more outlandish," Clemens said. The bar is a regular haven for fans of the animated cable show "South Park," but a nightly visit to the brawling arena of "The Jerry Springer Show" has become a tradition.

"I get a good feeling of what Caesar saw right before the end of the Roman Empire," said Peter Stanfield, 24, as he watched three "Springer" guests battle on the box.

"I'm in it for the violence," admitted 22-year-old Lacie Roy, a dancer and a Beth's regular. "I'm always hoping the next episode will have better fights."

Apparently, so are millions of other viewers. Once blasted as the worst in talk-show television - with subjects such as "I'm Having a Bi-Sexual Affair" and "I Have Sex With My Sister," and a parade of transsexuals, prostitutes and bizarre love matches - "Springer" is now the top-rated syndicated talk show.

Springer toppled fellow Chicagoan Oprah Winfrey for the first time in a decade during the February sweeps, taking the No. 1 spot in the national Nielsens with a 8.2 rating (almost 8 million viewers), while "The Oprah Winfrey Show" garnered an 8.0. In the most recent Nielsens, "Winfrey" and "Springer" tied for first.

In markets where he goes toe-to-toe with Rosie or Oprah, Springer usually beats them both. (His accolades didn't earn him a Daytime Emmy nomination yesterday, however. Both O'Donnell and Winfrey were tapped for that awards race.)

His tape of outtakes, "Too Hot for TV," has sold about 20,000 units a week since its release.

According to Richard Dominick, the executive producer responsible for pulling the "Springer" show out of the ratings basement, "The Jerry Springer Show" isn't a talk show. It's a new kind of television creation.

"You want a talk show? Watch Oprah. You want something outrageous and on the edge? Put on the Springer show. It's far from a talk show. It's surprises, it's love triangles and angry people. It's the Colosseum. It's the arena with the screaming Romans," Dominick said.

Behold a recent episode, "I'll Fight For My Man": Rochelle, a woman scorned, wants to earn back the love of her man, who was stolen away by her former best friend, Mary. When Mary takes the stage, it's fight time. The pair claw at each other until the "Springer" show bodyguards, off-duty Chicago policemen, break things up. Later things escalate into a tangle of flying fists. The audience chants "Jer-RY! Jer-RY!" The host stands by looking puzzled or shocked, even though this kind of thing happens every day. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to full-contact television.

A few short years ago, a company called Multi-Media owned the "Springer" show and hoped the former reporter and ex-Cincinnati mayor would fill the void when Phil Donahue retired. But low ratings put "Springer" on the chopping block.

When Dominick was made executive producer in April of 1994, he recalls, "I was literally told, you have until November to get the numbers up. If you don't, the show is canceled.

"So Jerry and I took a walk around Chicago. We said, `Hey, let's be outrageous.' And at that time I said to the producers, don't bring it to me if it's not interesting with the sound off."

Dominick said the most common criticism of "Springer" is that it exploits its guests, which he adamantly denies. The program fields about 5,000 calls a week, most from potential guests who want to get on the show. Dominick's producers face the task of finding the angriest callers to give them a good program, and each guest is briefed on what the topic is going to be and given a list of 10 to 20 possible outcomes in surprise situations.

"I'm not going to lie to you and say, gee, we're all sitting here surprised. At this point the producers are getting paid well enough to know what I want in a show," Dominick said. "If they got me a guest who just came out and talked and had a debate, well, we might as well go into a time machine and go back 10 years, and we could be doing Phil Donahue again. This year is based on confrontation."

Joining the ranks of "Springer" critics is Morton Downey Jr., who calls the show voyeuristic.

Though Downey admits his '80s talk show might be considered the parent of "Springer," he contends his shows "were well thought out and served a purpose . . . A good talk show takes compassion and some strong interviewing skills. I could do a show naked and get better ratings than Jerry."

This from a man who will be returning to the talk-show arena in June with "When Enemies Meet." Unlike "Springer," Downey's show will try to reconcile its antagonists. It's a 180-degree turn from Downey's last show, which was famous for his battle cry of "zip it!" and nasty physical fights.

"I designed that show to bring out the 45 seconds of frustration and anger that anyone felt in one day, and extend it into 45 minutes of frustration and anger that anyone felt at the world," he recalled in an interview. "But times were much different 10 years ago."

Downey faces an uphill battle if he wants to take on "Springer." Besides gleaning joy from watching average folks go for each other's throats, there are other reasons "Springer" viewers can't help tuning in.

"No matter how bad things get - your cat could have been run over, your sister could have been knocked up by a neighbor, whatever - the bottom line is, that's worse!" exclaims 27-year-old Robert Watts as he watches the show at Beth's. "Anything compared to these folks is better."