ENGL 40233

Writing for Publication
Fall 2008


Reality Bites?

“You know, it’s people like you who are going to keep actors like me from getting work.”  I hear this from my younger brother, but ignore him and fast-forward through the commercials of my Tivo-ed episode of America’s Next Top Model.  I’ve been watching a marathon of Tyra’s latest shenanigans for the last four hours, but I was at a crucial moment in the show (would the judges choose the girl with the personality…or the one with the better walk?) and couldn’t be bothered with my sibling’s ridiculous accusation.
          
My little brother is a fourteen-year-old who has worked as an actor on three independent films and a national commercial.  When he reacts to my obsession with reality shows, he’s not just being a meddlesome sibling who wants the remote control—he’s expressing a legitimate concern for his line of work.  But I would believe him more if just six months ago, he had not been so devoted to American Idol that he shed a tear over his favorite contestant being voted out of the competition.  His accusation against me was akin to the pot and kettle proverb, and I wasn’t buying it.

Well, maybe he does have a point.  The rise in the number of unscripted television shows (and subsequent dearth of decent scripted comedies or dramas for the small screen) is not likely to create new opportunities for actors, unless they consider a stint on Big Brother as an extended method-acting course.  But that’s not the part of his accusation that bothered me.  Underneath his statement there lay a note of sneering condescension… “people like you.” 

People like me?  Why are reality TV show lovers a “people” that he can snarl over?  Why does everyone look down on reality TV as the bane of all cultural existence?  I’m an educated, culture-loving, theater-going, nerd of a girl, but I’m also a reality TV junkie, and I don’t feel bad about it.  In fact, I’ve learned a lot from my viewing habits: Top Model taught me how to smile with my eyes; Cesar Millan, The Dog Whisperer, taught me what it means to be my dog’s pack leader; and before Top Chef I had never even heard of jicama (the edible root of a Mexican vine that tastes sweet and adds a satisfying crunch to a salad). To say that all reality TV is trash, bad entertainment, or (gasp!) low quality is the equivalent of saying that all television shows have no value, or that any form of visual entertainment (be it film, or even theater) is a waste of time. 

I’m not arguing for every show, or even for every part of my favorite shows.  For every Project Runway there is a My Fair Brady: We’re Getting Married!  And for all the greatness that is American Idol, we still have to sit through audition episodes that showcase (read: humiliate) some contestants who are the antitheses of singing superstars.  But there are unscripted shows out there that are beneficial to the field they showcase, to their participants, and to us, the viewers.

Currently, there are more than twenty unscripted television shows on the major television networks alone. And that number skyrockets when you consider the hundreds of cable channels producing their own reality series, and like MTV and VH1, airing reruns from popular syndicated reality shows like So You Think You Can Dance.  There’s a reality show out there for almost every possible viewer: brides-to-be, singles looking for love, animal lovers, adventure seekers, tattoo enthusiasts, pop singer wannabes, aspiring country music stars, soap opera viewers, those fascinated by the business world, fashionistas, and those who enjoy seeing people humiliate themselves, gag on something that should not be eaten, or be rejected by a potential lover.  Reality TV has settled into all of our lives, no matter our demographic, and it is here to stay.

So don’t complain about how there’s no good television anymore just because no one’s making great comedies like Friends and Cheers or groundbreaking dramas that have staying power like ER.  I take that back, do complain about that, but in your complaint don’t blame the new influx of reality TV.

Though it gained its popular nickname in the 21st century, reality TV has been around since Candid Camera of the late 1940s and the 1950s unscripted radio show Nightwatch that followed a group of California police officers during their beat (COPS, anyone?).  The first major unscripted show of the late 20th and early 21st century, The Real World, was a response to the Writer’s Guild of America strike in the late 80s.  And that pattern was repeated in another strike in 2007 and 2008.  No writers?  No problem.  We’ve still got people hungry for their 15 minutes of fame, and audience members eager to live vicariously through them.  Networks can cut costs by producing reality television, which often come with brand-name sponsors like Coca-Cola and CoverGirl, and people want to watch the drama of their relatable counterparts just as much as they can’t wait to see the next plot twist on Lost or Grey’s Anatomy.

The Academy of Television Arts and Sciences agrees with the public’s acceptance of unscripted programming.  There are now three categories of Emmy awards for reality programming: outstanding reality show or competition, outstanding host of reality show or competition, and outstanding reality program (which includes shows that are not competitive by nature).  Granted, the awards for scripted programming greatly outnumber those for reality programming, which doesn’t reflect the ratio of scripted to unscripted programs currently on the air, but professional recognition from the Academy should show all of us something I’ve known all along; we don’t have to be ashamed of our guilty (reality) pleasures.

That said, I do have some embarrassing reality show habits.  Every once in awhile I get sucked into one of the endless permutations of The Bachelor, I did watch Average Joe (a fairly cruel and overrated version of The Bachelorette), and I’m fairly devoted to The Hills (in my defense, it only takes up about 12 minutes of my week since I use my Tivo to skip commercials). Sometimes though, it’s not what I watch, but how I watch it.  There was a time when I couldn’t wait to see if my favorite channels would air a Saturday-long marathon featuring one of my preferred series (usually America’s Next Top Model on VH1 or MTV, but, if I was lucky, Project Runway or Top Chef on Bravo, the crème de la crème of cable networks producing their own unscripted series).  Without fail, if there was a marathon, I would watch.  All day.

But as a professional reality show viewer, that is my cross to bear.  I don’t encourage any of these habits for others.  Watching reality television is much like choosing what to eat: You could eat a box of Twinkies everyday, but it would serve you better to eat lean proteins, green vegetables, and other less sugary items, and have a Twinkie for dessert once a week (for me, Twinkies = The Hills).  Vary your television diet, and consume everything in moderation.

I hope that by now I’ve convinced you that you can watch reality television without fear of your brain rotting or of public scorn for your refusal to spend your time watching “better” television, like one of the millions of forensic crime dramas.  The next step is identifying the useful reality TV shows versus the Twinkies.  I’ve gleaned some useful hints from my experiences watching a variety of reality programming. 

When watching an unscripted show, it’s important to consider a few things.  For instance, how the program affects the field it serves and its participants. Project Runway introduces new and talented designers during New York Fashion Week, but VH1’s The Surreal Life catapults the ridiculous antics of D-List pseudo celebrities into daily syndication. American Idol has mixed results when it comes to CD sales of its winners, but the top ten contestants often produce albums that are at the very least respectable in quality.  Participants of My Super Sweet 16 usually become even more self-absorbed as the star of their very own MTV episode.  More self-involved and self-important teenagers—just what the world needs. 

The show’s credibility is also a good way to judge the beneficial from the superfluous show.  Top Chef has renowned chefs and food critics as judges, so we can trust their judgment even if we can’t taste the contestants’ food.  The Simple Life displays the actions and attitudes of two heiresses, and who knows what we can trust from these “famous for being famous” celebutantes.

I don’t avoid all shows that fall outside of these guidelines, and I don’t expect every other viewer to do so either.  But I do try to know when I’m watching a beneficial program versus a show that is the equivalent of empty calories.  Recognizing this is almost as important as unveiling reality television’s one and only truth: It’s not real. 

Even though most reality shows are unscripted as a whole and use ordinary people and not professional actors, there are elements that are not real. Contestants on So You Think You Can Dance may garner more votes based on how much airtime they have been given by producers rather than their actual talent.  Off-camera crew members can affect the confessionals given by Real World cast members.  Editing can shave off the amount of time (or boring and undesirable situations) needed to complete the Extreme Home Makeover.  And many programs air a fine print disclaimer indicating that some decisions were influenced by producers and outside circumstances (ie, controversial contestant “A” made “better TV” than more talented contestant “B”.  Goodbye “B”.). Knowing that my favorite shows are not always realistic makes me intelligent enough to watch guilt-free.

But why do I, and billions of American viewers, insist on watching, with or without the guilt?  It’s part-vicarious living and part-obsession with real-life drama that’s more compelling than fiction. But the biggest draw is seeing ordinary people on a reality program shoot to stardom in a matter of weeks, days, or even minutes.  When that happens, I can’t help but proudly gaze upon the newly achieved American Dream… and fail to notice when yesterday’s star loses their luster. But it’s ok, because I can relive that moment of glory when the show goes into syndication, and MTV airs a marathon. 

I will watch again.  All day.

 

KRISTA JENNINGS will be graduating in December (woohoo!) with a BA in Writing and a BFA in ballet and modern dance.  She has interned with Macfadden Performing Arts Media, which produces Dance magazine, among other dance-related publications.  She is a guest blogger for Dance Spirit, and a contributor for an upcoming issue of Dance.  She has also been published in the TCU Undergraduate Journal of Research and Creativity.  Krista is an experienced dancer and choreographer who spends her free time watching marathons of her favorite reality tv shows, which include Top Chef; America’s Next Top Model; and Cesar Millan, the Dog Whisperer.

The nominees for the "Outstanding Host of a Reality or Reality Competition Program" Emmy.