Reality Hunger (33 page)

The American reality show
Survivor
is derived from the popular Swedish reality show
Expedition Robinson
, which debuted in Sweden in 1997 and was sold to Mark Burnett in 1998.
Survivor
first aired on CBS in 2000 and now has shows in thirty other countries.
Expedition Robinson
was named after and loosely based on the Daniel Defoe novel
Robinson Crusoe
(1719), which was based on the true story of Alexander Selkirk, which Defoe read in Richard Steele’s magazine
The Englishman
. Selkirk was a sea merchant who pirated for the government and, citing the dangerous captain and damaged boat as reasons for not wanting to sail around the Horn of Africa for loot, asked to be left on an island and rescued five years later. He was on the island from 1704 until 1709 and grew accustomed to solitude. In the novel, Crusoe rejects his life as a lawyer and takes to the sea. His boat is overtaken by pirates, and he eventually becomes a Brazilian plantation owner. When he leaves to collect slaves, he’s the only survivor of the crash that
maroons him. He builds a home for himself, feeds himself, and (unlike Selkirk) encounters other inhabitants on the island, such as his companion Friday and cannibals. After twenty-eight years, two months, and nineteen days, he’s rescued.

“This is the true story of seven strangers, picked to live in a house and have their lives taped. Find out what happens when people stop being polite and start getting
real. The Real World
!”—the first reality show, although only the first couple of years were “real” (sans orchestration).
Surreal Life:
pretty much the same thing as
The Real World
, but with seven former celebrities (turns out celebrities are real people). The “reality” of contest shows derives from contestants wanting things that people in real life want. The contestants on, for instance,
American Idol, America’s Next Top Model
, and
The Apprentice
all want jobs that are nearly impossible to get but remain the goal of many young people: pop singer, model, rock star, and making a million dollars a year working for Donald Trump. The shows usually involve people living in a house with the other hopefuls and then intermittently during the week completing some act of courage or strength to prove they shouldn’t be eliminated that week. The models go on modeling shoots in which they’re asked, say, to be suspended in the air with wires while wearing superhero outfits or to pose naked except for body paint or to pose in their underwear with male models also in their underwear. On
The Bachelor
, the bachelorettes go on excruciating dates with the prize guy: horseback riding in the snow for those afraid of horses and cold, fencing with a face-enclosing helmet on for the claustrophobic. These moments of “reality” are worse than what most of us experience dating or working, but they’re an opportunity for us to watch what
someone else would do if things turned really bad, to steel ourselves, perhaps, for the date from hell or for the job that demands we be braver and smarter than we actually are. In
The Biggest Loser
, teams of obese men and women compete to see who can lose the greatest percentage of body weight. The team that loses at each week’s weigh-in must send home one person who will no longer have the opportunity to be on TV and work with the trainer to become thin. In
Extreme Makeover
, which lasted four seasons, each week two contestants were provided extensive plastic surgery, dental makeovers, and training sessions. Candidates would write in about how being ugly by society’s standards had hampered their lives. Two of the worst cases were selected and sent to LA to live and consult specialists. The show followed the two contestants through their various surgeries and ended with the “unveiling” in front of their family and friends, who were often moved to tears. I often found myself musing that these people had way more friends than I do.
The Swan
, canceled after only two seasons (too painful): a handful of “ugly ducklings” competed to become the one most transformed (by, principally, plastic surgeries) and named by judges as the swan.
Last Comic Standing:
two judges left the show when they realized that their votes meant nothing, that the producers determined who won each week; the show survived the scandal.
The Contender:
sixteen semipro boxers duked it out; one of the losers killed himself. In 2008, a 2005 contestant from
American Idol
committed suicide in front of Paula Abdul’s house.
Rock Star INXS:
INXS auditioned singers to replace their lead singer, Michael Hutchence, who killed himself in 1997.
Hit Me Baby One More Time:
1980s one-hit wonders attempted comebacks (no one was interested).

In 2008, more votes were cast for
American Idol
than for Barack Obama for president: 97 million for
American Idol
and, on Election Day, 70 million for Obama.

I try not to watch reality TV, but it happens anyway. My aunt and uncle, both of whom are pretty intellectual, live two doors down from me and watch reality TV, so I watch it with them sometimes (they like Donald Trump’s show and
Project Runway
). My wife (another very intelligent person) also watches
America’s Next Top Model
, so I’m all too familiar with that show as well. I think different people get sucked into reality shows for different reasons. My aunt and uncle seem to like the competition aspect. It becomes a blurry vision of televised sports (which also has that added sense of immediacy because it’s unfiltered, is “really” happening, and therefore there’s the feeling that in the next minute anything can happen—which adds to the excitement of a competition). My wife seems to like
America’s Next Top Model
for the elements you would find in a soap opera: the intrigue and fighting among the contestants. The producers have a way of typecasting and highlighting aspects of each girl’s personality for greater effect (nearly everyone wants to see beautiful young women gossip and argue). There’s also always at least one minor subplot. However scripted the show is, it’s more compelling than standard soap operas. I like to see how reality shows are put together, especially the way in which the shows are a hybrid mutant of documentaries, game shows, and soaps. The producers have no problem blurring the lines between these three types of shows: they take what works and discard the rest.

My big-picture philosophy is that with shows like this, I don’t think our viewers necessarily differentiate between what’s scripted and what’s not. Our primary goal is to make a show that’s compelling.

Readers thirst for a narrative, any narrative, and will turn to the most compelling one.

There’s no longer any such thing as fiction or nonfiction; there’s only narrative. (Is there even narrative?)

Bored with the airbrushed perfection of
Friends
, we want to watch real people stuck on tropical islands without dental floss. We want our viewing to reflect our complicated, messy, difficult, overloaded, overstimulated lives. Let’s see messy houses getting clean, bratty children caught on hidden cameras, actual arguments between genuine young people being authentically solipsistic.