One reason television is important
is that it can tell us something about our reality. It can remind us where our societal emphases
really lie; it can tell us what people think they want or need; it can use
metaphor to say what direct speech may make hard. It can remind us of hidden biases and
assumptions. In the case of “reality”
television, If we look carefully, we can see a bunch of things that we may not
have realized we needed to know about ourselves. Here’s a few:
- That we inculcate our kids with ideas of normative beauty and commodification of expertise far earlier than we might have expected (Toddlers & Tiaras; Top Chef Juniors);
- That we still cling to the erroneous belief that size and normative beauty are matters of personal choice and that our national narrative tying thinness and health is a transparent, albeit very stubborn, lie (The Biggest Loser; The Swan);
- That we buy into a narrative of the wealthy as “saviors,” and the poorer are objects of scorn or derision (Extreme Makeover Home Edition; Deal or No Deal; The Briefcase);
- That female promiscuity or lack of control is a shameful spectacle while male promiscuity or lack of control is at worst, foolhardy (compare treatment of men and women on Jersey Shore or Party Down South; keep in mind there’s no “Bad Boys’ Club” but there is a “Bad Girls’ Club”);
- That we care more about whether something looks good than whether it has depth or longevity (Trading Spaces; Monster House);
- That we believe that the “best” deserve a shot at success, but that we are ok with the gatekeepers of that shot being incumbent elites (Idol, SYTYCD, The Voice, Shark Tank);
- That if someone’s rich enough, they needn’t bother trying to have perspective or respecting other people (Kardashians, Apprentice, Housewives, and a zillion other documentary-style shows);
- That people will do pretty much any indignity for money (Wipeout, Hole in the Wall, Fear Factor);
- That today’s America romanticizes and commodifies marriage as a marker of adulthood, without which someone (and particularly, women) can never be truly successful (Bachelor/Bachelorette)
Of course, “reality” show is a
misnomer—most reality sub-genres are actually highly manufactured drama. But the fact that we live in a time when
highly manufactured drama passes for “reality” is itself interesting, and tells
us something about our conceptions of authenticity.
Scripted television, in contrast,
has an unusual ability to make actual reality interesting. Trying to portray what Dar Williams called “the
gradual rise and fall of a daily victory” isn’t necessarily interesting. But finding, distilling, and highlighting the
human drama in the everyday can be as interesting as it gets. That’s a tough line to walk. (For my taste,
Mad Men fell on the wrong side of it, and Friday Night Lights fell gloriously
on the right side of it.) Even more
importantly, identifying and calling out what society values, and shining a
light on its errors, ironies, and injustices
is something that television, as a medium, is especially well-suited
to. Satire and historical drama, at
their best, can show us a sort of hyper-reality, focusing in on elements that
make us realize that something in our own world is out of place.
This season’s brought us some
historical drama, some satire, and some shows that mimic “reality”
television. Do they live up to their
potential?
Aquarius (NBC, new. Period crime drama.)
Watched: first 3 episodes
Premise: in 1967, L.A. police investigate the Manson family. Fictionalized account based partially on real
events.
Promise: Gorgeous production mimics the time and place
well, and although I was skeptical of the partially-fictionalized account, it
allows the writers to tailor the pace and drama. So the show has great potential to highlight
the pros and cons of the culture clash of the time like UK period procedural Inspector George Gently does, but it pulls many of its punches—its old-school cop (David
Duchovny, for whom this is very much a star vehicle) has too many modern
sympathies to quite hit that mark. It touches
on changing times, deceiving oneself, and the slow menace of comfort, but it’s
not quite about anything, which takes
away what could be a really interesting drive.
To the extent the show is about changing times, it doesn’t quite get
there—the show gestures at differences, but they’re largely superficial; to
make the characters sympathetic, the show doesn’t push hard enough at the pernicious
racism, sexism, and other assumptions that could really drive home a “more
things change, the more they stay the same” point.
One thing the show does play around
with a good bit is liberation and freedom.
A soldier goes AWOL only to find he’s chased by the military
police. Women express their freedom by
running away or being sexually promiscuous, but find that puts them right back
at the mercy of men—and malicious men, at that.
Women’s sexuality is a lever used to control them, with the threat of
rape and the illusion of choice. Here,
men have all the power to make decisions for themselves and the women around
them, but even then they don’t know how to use it—the only one who affords
himself true freedom (constrained only by his psychosis) is Manson. This is another show where men’s only
emotional outlet is anger, and here (as in other shows I’ve discussed), it
manifests in that sort of “sweeping stuff off the desk” petulant rage at the
imperfection of a world they mostly—but not entirely—control. It would be easy to take a “don’t try too
hard, you’ll only lose anyway” fatalism from the show, although I expect it’s
not intended. A better lesson, although
I expect also unintended, is that men
are deeply emotional, and that a culture that doesn’t allow them to display
those emotions is one where men do damage to themselves and others.
Verdict: fine, but I’d rather it more actively
condemned the lack of freedom that it portrays.
Another Period (Comedy Central,
new. Satire.)
Watched: pilot
Premise: Kardashian-style faux-“reality” show set in turn
of the 20th century Newport, Rhode Island.
Promise: The idea is to send up the excesses of the
docureality genre and the air of affected superiority, inconsiderateness, and
anti-intellectualism that its denizens portray.
And it does that, although it also devolves into slapstick quickly, and goes
for easy jokes about appearance and disability.
Some of those jokes work, others fall flat. It has a lot of potential to skewer the genre
(just think, Keeping up with the Kardashians meets Downton Abbey) and although it
had flashes of sharp wit, it didn’t quite get there.
Verdict: I want to give it another episode or two, but
I’m not encouraged by the promo of episode 2 being about a male servant being “ravished.”
The Brink (HBO, new. Satire.)
Watched: pilot
Premise: The U.S. stands poised for a war with
Pakistan and an in-country functionary (Jack Black) and dissolute Secretary of
State (Tim Robbins) struggle to prevent.
Promise: This show has a great cast and some amazing
moments. I love the premise, which
really highlights how petty and ill-informed international politics can be. It points up the that the people with their
fingers on the button are in many ways likely to be just as selfish, childish,
and distracted as any other human. And
it has a good mix of jabs and uppercuts.
But the two main characters are too similar to each other—both are boozy
(or druggy) immature womanizers who mean well and stumble into partial success
through a combination of savvy and luck.
I would rather see Black’s character be hapless, or competent but
trapped, or just too happy-go-lucky for his job. Instead, he’s constantly staring at the
backsides of pretty ladies…which is the Secretary of State’s schtick. What I’m saying here is, let’s spread out the
archetypes, as British satire so often does so very well. The world is a funnier place when not every man is a womanizer.
Verdict: It has some really glowing moments,
especially when Black’s character is interacting with his driver (Aasif Mandvi)
and when Robbins’ character is interacting with his aide (Maribeth
Monroe). I just hit it hit harder and
had more variety.
UnREAL (Lifetime, new. Drama.)
Watched: first 4 episodes
Premise: Machinations behind the scenes at the
production of a Bachelor-style reality show.
Promise: Shiri Appelby skillfully portrays the main character, a
producer of the show whose chief job—at which she is extremely, troublingly
good—is to manipulate the contestants into making bad decisions (i.e., "good
TV"). She’s sympathetic as a villain who
knows, and regrets, that she’s a villain; a feminist who knows, and regrets,
that perhaps her most valued skill is setting back the feminist cause. The show is really all about the malleability
and manipulability of human pride, and how easily humanity will allow itself to
be commodified. Our heroine, along with everyone else around her, is victimized by the system they perpetrate, and
even when they know it they allow themselves to continue. It could seem fatalistic, but it doesn’t
quite, as if there’s a tiny sliver of self-discovery in each terrible decision,
and a tiny bit of hope that the next decision will be a little better, or at
least a little better-informed. Ultimately,
the show won’t continue to be interesting unless it moves the needle on the
characters’ arcs of self-discovery, and in the first four episodes that needle
moves very slowly. I’d hate to see the
show turn into a simple celebration of our heroine’s manipulative
competence. But I have some confidence
it won’t.
On an interesting side note, I’m
intrigued by the fact that the two Lifetime shows I’ve reviewed here, this one
and The Lottery, feature women being manipulated into competing against each
other for a questionable benefit. I think
there’s a deeper point to be made here—perhaps about how the “ideal” for women
is illusory, and how society still manages to pit us against each other in
search of it. Maybe there’s a lesson in
there about looking out for each other, even if the shows aren’t explicitly trying
to make it.
Verdict: This is exactly the sort of ironic,
self-aware view of the Bachelor that I’ve always had in my mind when I’ve
watched the original. An entertaining complement
to Burning Love, which skewers the genre through satire. I’ll keep watching, at least for now.
In
the Queue: Proof, Dark Matter, Astronaut
Wives Club, Complications, Killjoys, Mr Robot.
