Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Reality TV, Part II

I know I've meditated on reality TV before, but I just can't help myself. This entry could also be called "Confessions of a Teenage Television Junkie." Anyway, this entry is inspired by an occurrence on Sunday. I was telling my father about a show I enjoy watching, "Nip/Tuck." I said it was a plastic surgery drama, and my friend added that it was fictional. In the world I formerly lived in, there didn't need to be clarification that something on television that wasn't the news (although sometimes also fictional).

My familiarity with reality television is perhaps due to the fact that I actually do things at night, when primetime is on, and am left only with midday television. The television selection at three in the afternoon on a weekday is criminal, and reduces me to watching three straight episodes of My Super Sweet 16, which is potentially the most vomit-inducing, interesting-like-a-train-wreck-is-interesting show on television. After contemplating both this and conversation with my father, I realized that "reality television" has an entire spectrum of reality. I have categorized them below:

Real Reality Television: You follow people around. People let you into their homes and attempt to lead life as usual with fluffy microphones floating above their heads and cameras in their faces. There are two categories, Celebrity Reality Television and Special Interest Reality Television. The average person, like me, is generally not on reality television, but celebrities are. We take a sick pleasure in watching as celebrities prove that they're crazy and not quite like us, just as we suspected. Examples of Celebrity Reality Television are Hogan Knows Best (a surprisingly normal seeming family) and The Osbournes. Special interest shows are those which follow the average joe around. Except that these average joes only get one episode, and each one has something in common, like rich, indulgent birthdays and an upcoming 16th birthday. Examples of Special Interest Reality Television are almost any show involving plastic surgery and Tiara Girls. We accept that large parts of the filmed lives of these people are edited out to make them fit character-types, and move on.

Scenario Reality Television: What if you put people in this situation? What would they do? Let's make a show about it. MTV is a particular culprit in this category. There was been a recent movement away from things like The Real World to what is now a deluge of scenario shows. For example, Next and Room Raiders. Let's see what a 20-year-old man would do if he had five girls at his disposal and had to decide if he wanted to complete a date with one of them or trade her for what may be something better (Next). It's not specifically reality, because most of the time girls have more pride and less free time than that, but it's kind of like it. The shows are heavily scripted human behavioral experiments packaged as half hours of mindless, inane television. I can rarely sit through an entire episode of a scenario reality television show.

Competition Reality Television: Like the previous category, these shows are not strictly reality. The classic show in this category is Survivor. People are put into unusual situations and have to fight for their lives/careers/pride/food, etc. Americans like game shows. Americans also like reality television. Mix it together and you have a recipe for success. We love watching highly competitive people stab each other in the back for faux rewards. How many of those bitches on America's Next Top Model end up as top models? Even if the answer was even one of them, that's beside the point; what we care about is seeing these girls trip each other, steal each other's important pairs of shoes and get into hair-pulling catfights. Think The Amazing Race, American Idol and The Apprentice. The shows in this category are game shows for the next generation.

Straight Up Bullsh*t Reality Television: Those shows that are kind of like reality, except that you have somebody writing it for you. It's the awkward combination of average people trying to deliver lines and dialogue that even professional actors would struggle with. See, for example, Date My Mom and Parental Control. All of the parents and unhappy prospective dumpees in Parental Control have the same, droll dialogue every single episode. They have a plasticky disdain for each other, and the jilted boyfriend always presents the same macho bravado lines. And I refuse to believe that the average person says things like, "Tell him I'm a dime piece" to her mother.

That's my rough categorization, to be submitted to Meredith's Grand Master Assessment of the Universe in Single Paragraph Descriptions.

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