Reality Bites
by Chris Wood

A satirical rant on reality Tv.

Although the Real World's skeletal structure is considered to be what started it all, the first dose of the new format of reality TV was given by PBS, in a 1973 debut called The American Family, produced by Craig Gilbert, who shot over 300 hours of footage of the Loud family, over a 7 month period. Only 12 hours actually aired, but PBS grabbed 10 million viewers at the conclusion of the show (quite a feat for that time), which included the breakup of Bill and Pat Loud's marriage, and the coming-out of their son Lance. The family, however, complained that the 12 hours chosen (only 1/25 of all footage shot) was a complete misrepresentation of their lives. This similar complaint was heard several times at Real World reunions, where a member of the audience would ask, "Why are you such a bitch?" to one of the Real Worlders, and they would explain how the camera's and producer's and director's tell their own story with the footage shot, changing the true identity of that particular person.

Reality, as Webster tells us (not the little guy who says, "What 'chu talkin' 'bout!") is the state or quality of being real, which is genuine rather than imaginary, ideal, or fictitious. This can also be interpreted as something being actual, as opposed to possible or potential. So clearly, chaining one guy or gal to 4 members of the opposite sex (Chains of Love), and taping them for four days to see what might happen (I predict sex and/or a fight), is a possible idea, but so is the thought that an alien named Alf from the planet Melmac came to earth and lived with a family of humans.

The reason TV wants to call it reality is because they are real people, not actors. But these real people are given commands like, "act natural" and "pretend the cameras aren't there," which are essentially acting instructions. To act natural in an unnatural environment, or to pretend an object, like a camera, isn't there, requires skills that can be attributed to the art of acting. Also, it is very unlikely to find a person who, when put in front of a camera, or has the knowledge that every minute of interaction is being taped for world wide viewing, will really be themselves. There is an unconscious deliberation that changes a person's regular behavior when they know they are constantly being watched.

Another thing to think about, when looking at these reality shows, is the aftermath. From Survivor alone, Colleen Haskell has appeared in a Chap Stick commercial and currently co-stars with Rob Schneider in The Animal, while Richard, the winner of the first Survivor, made a guest appearance on the CBS show Becker (Ted Danson), in addition to other guest spots. Amber, from Survivor 2, just posed for Stuff Magazine, and the ever-popular Jerri, who recently made a guest appearance on E's Talk Soup, is rumored to be posing for Playboy. It's becoming apparent that a lot of these real people end up as actors or models after their real TV show ends. So, either it's really easy to be an actor/model, or reality TV is a crash coarse in acting/modeling 101.

And now, there is yet another addition to reality shows, called Fear Factor on NBC, with the catch phrase being, "Everyone can hear you scream." (I didn't know my screams of agony and bitter contempt could be heard from that far away.) The highlights include people performing "extremely dangerous" stunts, as described by Joe Rogan (News Radio), like lying down in a pile of rats, or being submerged in a 7"x 4" tank full of 100,000 worms (it is incredibly dangerous that the creators of this tripe are allowed to walk among the living without a chaperone). Competing for $50,000, contestants must take part in these stunts, and viewers who browse the Fear Factor web site are asked to E-mail in new stunt ideas for the show. The question is, "Do we get paid for it?" How cheesy is this, asking the viewing public to come up with show ideas because the creative juices of the TV industry are all dried up? Here's a good one: Take these people and tell them to slather themselves in chum, jump off a cliff into shark-infested waters, and swim back to shore. If you live, you get some money, or a free Big Gulp from 7-11.

Ya know, the bottom line is that when I plop myself down in front of the TV, click the remote control and start looking at the images and listening to the sounds, I don't want to see supposed reality. I watch TV to escape reality. That's what TV is for. It's Superman in black and white, Batman, The Lone Ranger, and a show about nothing! That's what I want! I want to hear a fat yellow cartoon shout, "Doh!" and drink a Duff beer. I want Sammy Malone and Woody to sling domestic brews at Normy, while Carla insults Cliffy. I want to know who shot J.R, and see a show about a guy and his talking car that solve crimes together. I want to know that, "the truth is out there," I want Malcolm to be in the middle, Martin Sheen as the Commander in Chief, and a lawyer/bowling alley owner. Give me Diff'rent Strokes; tell me What's Happening, Who's The Boss, and The Facts of Life! And most of all, I want Alex P. Keaton, Bill Cosby and Magnum P.I. That's why I watch TV.