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May '11 PR Rankings Issue - Odwyerpr.com

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EDITORIAL<br />

What’s wrong with reality TV?<br />

It’s long been my position that if you think our current standards have reached an all-time<br />

low, just wait a few years.<br />

Case in point: In 2001, reality TV accounted for about 20% of prime-time television.<br />

Today it accounts for 40%. In the world of cable TV it’s actually much higher, with some<br />

channels now dedicating as much as 90% of their content to reality programming. The New<br />

York Times last year reported that 15 of the top 20 highest-rated programs are now reality<br />

shows, fetching more viewers in the 18-to-49 bracket than any other form of programming.<br />

The latest “Jersey Shore” season finale was the highest-rated yet, shattering records for<br />

MTV with 7.6 million viewers as well as a 7.3 rating in the coveted 12-to-34 demographic.<br />

There’s little question as to why reality TV has gotten so popular. For one, it’s cheap to<br />

produce, the broadcast equivalent of outsourced labor. Subjects are the actors, entire scenes,<br />

entire plots, entire characters are written in the editing room. It’s also nimble; because the<br />

medium suggests authenticity, many viewers instantly find them engaging. Shows can be<br />

scripted — scenes acted, even — then presented in vérité form as documentary, fact. Finally,<br />

there’s product placement. In case you were unaware, reality shows are televised billboards;<br />

their subjects tout more brands than Daytona 500 drivers. They cover cost before the first<br />

<strong>com</strong>mercial break.<br />

And then there’s us — the dumb saps who watch. This activity paints a dire picture of the<br />

human condition, that we’re so fevered with self-hatred we’re willing to vilify people with<br />

faults just like our own, the only exception being they dared to flaunt their short<strong>com</strong>ings in<br />

a court fit only for our celebrity overlords. The very practice is a tactic admission of our preference<br />

of institution over the individual, a public chastisement of those who fail to achieve<br />

the lofty ideals set by those institutions. The question shouldn’t be whether reality TV showcases<br />

anything close to what we call “reality” (it doesn’t). The question should instead be<br />

how low we will stoop to reiterate our bankrupt mores for the purpose of making ourselves<br />

feel better for never achieving those ideals to begin with.<br />

It doesn’t matter what kind of reality show it is — whether it’s a program featuring everyday<br />

people striving to achieve a position of favored status in the <strong>com</strong>munity through talent<br />

<strong>com</strong>petitions (“American Idol”), or job <strong>com</strong>petitions (“The Apprentice”), or by struggling<br />

to over<strong>com</strong>e addiction or societal rejection (“Hoarders, “Intervention,” “Extreme<br />

Makeover,”), or if it’s a program that captures odd professions (“Dog the Bounty Hunter”),<br />

strangers placed in artificial living environments (“Big Brother”), or minor celebrities who<br />

make fools of themselves in the course of their day-to-day lives, thereby revealing themselves<br />

as the throwaways we’ve always presumed them to be (What a relief, they’re idiots<br />

like us!) — the goal of all reality TV is the same. Like any good narrative, reality TV survives<br />

on fantasy. Ideals are its currency.<br />

Reality TV is the overlapping area where the everyday man/woman briefly transcends<br />

into the world of celebrity. In order for this to gain any traction, ideal circumstances must be<br />

presented. Failure is almost certain. It’s no surprise that the most successful of the genre’s<br />

offerings are rife with the two things most Americans simply don’t get enough of: money<br />

and sex. It doesn’t matter how the characters/contestants arc on the “Jersey Shore,”<br />

“America’s Next Top Model,” or “The Real Housewives of Orange County/New York<br />

City/New Jersey/Atlanta.” As long as there’s a chance of riches or a romp, we’re engaged.<br />

Semi-successful cable shows like “Deadliest Catch,” “Ice Road Truckers,” and “Billy the<br />

Exterminator” survive on niche appeal. Once you add money and sex to the profession (“LA<br />

Ink,” “Pregnant in Heels”), a ratings surge follows. It’s far from the American reality.<br />

In order for the illusion of these ideal circumstances to be successful, it requires an axis<br />

of sameness — a lifetime of viewer failure — to revolve around. Reality TV survives on the<br />

absurd fantasy that we are all future celebrities, millionaires in the making, that we’re simply<br />

waiting for the day that we too are subjected to the graces of a benevolent CEO and his<br />

brand tentacles. In the meantime we’ll mock those who fall short of societal expectations,<br />

those denied the CEO hire, the next top model, the star chef, those who were unable to transcend<br />

from individual to brand. We laugh at them for being us.<br />

We’d never make a reality show about real people in real circumstances we created,<br />

because it’d firmly place the onus on us to change. We’d never make a show about the jobless<br />

and homeless families left by the banks we later bailed out, we’d never create a reality<br />

show documenting the families destroyed by the bombs we dropped on Iraq. How about a<br />

show highlighting the last factory worker in the U.S.? Doesn’t sound so appealing, does it?<br />

Our reality remains a convenience. <br />

— Jon Gingerich<br />

6<br />

MAY 2011 WWW.ODWYER<strong>PR</strong>.COM<br />

EDITOR-IN-CHIEFF<br />

Jack O’Dwyer<br />

jack@odwyerpr.<strong>com</strong><br />

ASSOCIATE PUBLISHER<br />

Kevin McCauley<br />

kevin@odwyerpr.<strong>com</strong><br />

EDITOR<br />

Jon Gingerich<br />

jon@odwyerpr.<strong>com</strong><br />

SENIOR EDITOR<br />

Greg Hazley<br />

greg@odwyerpr.<strong>com</strong><br />

CONTRIBUTING EDITORS<br />

John O’Dwyer<br />

Fraser Seitel<br />

Richard Goldstein<br />

ADVERTISING SALES<br />

John O’Dwyer<br />

Advertising Sales Manager<br />

john@odwyerpr.<strong>com</strong><br />

Jack Fogarty<br />

National Advertising Representative<br />

jfogarty@odwyerpr.<strong>com</strong><br />

O’Dwyer’s is published monthly for $60.00<br />

a year ($7.00 for a single issue) by the<br />

J.R. O’Dwyer Co., Inc.,<br />

271 Madison Ave., New York, NY 10016.<br />

(212) 679-2471<br />

Fax (212) 683-2750.<br />

© Copyright 2011<br />

J.R. O’Dwyer Co., Inc.<br />

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