Sitting in the gloriousness which is the rehearsal room for The Edit – the brainchild of one of my nearest and dearest, the brilliant Gabrielle Scawthorn, has reminded me of the undeniable love I have for reality television.
But oh boy is it toxic. Like any good situationship I know it’s bad for me. Of course I do. I’ve watched enough of it over the years to know that. I am deeply aware of this. But the comfort it brings me, or has brought me in times of need, sometimes in times of tragedy, “keeps me hangin’ on”, in the words of Kim Wilde. While we rip open the guts of the mechanics of the genre in the rehearsal room, I continue to go home and consume the very thing I am shaking my head at. While we support and develop a new work and the important voices behind it; I go home and invest my time in a form that literally takes jobs away from creatives and artists. What a dirty, filthy hypocrite.
It’s tricky because when I think it’s time to turn my back on it, I am reminded of the comfort it has brought me, since my teenage years. It started with Survivor, and watching Tina Wesson beat Colby Donaldson in Survivor: The Australian Outback. In fact, my mum found my high school yearbook the other day and in the ‘what will they be when they grow up section’ more than one friend listed me as ‘fulfilling my dreams of competing on Survivor.’ I’m not a camper, I’m also not particularly competitive and I like food. So I appreciate their high hopes but I think I’d much rather just watch.
Then came the fascination with Big Brother which in its early days, felt like we were genuinely watching real people exist in some form of genuine reality. In 2001 the contestants were so unaware of the show that was being constructed. And so was the audience. We hadn’t seen the tricks yet. And how could we ever forget the iconic Tyra Banks and her highly problematic empire of Next Top Model, originating in the US and birthing many international offspring far and wide? In fact, now in Australia there is a channel dedicated to replaying seasons of Top Model 24/7. Survivor is up to its 50th season. Bravo, the home of The Real Housewives franchise, Below Deck and Vanderpump Rules, has an entire yearly two day international convention for its fans: BravoCon. The genre is clearly doing something right.
Or perhaps ‘right’ is the wrong word. The ethics of reality television isn’t a new concept or debate for anyone. Audiences and contestants are aware of the highly constructed false narratives, the abuse of contestants, the so called ‘bad edits.’ So why do we keep consuming it?
Perhaps it’s the feeling of utter joy that an episode of RuPaul’s Drace brings, with its colour, humour, representation and the outrageous talents of the Queens. The fact it started as a thinly-veiled satire of Top Model and has now grown into one of the biggest reality TV franchises in the world, is a nod to the success of the origins of its tone. But it’s also the sense of community it represents and fosters. It’s supporting Queens by paying to see their live shows. It’s getting together with best mates, queers and queerdos to watch the finale, while nursing tiny babies and sipping champagne. But in the same way Below Deck allowed me to travel to the Mediterranean during the pandemic lockdowns, Drag Race gives me full permission to hide away at the end of a busy day of having to exist in the real world, and escape into another reality: a reality that I feel completely safe within.
I wonder, as the world becomes an even scarier place to live in, and my phone which used to just be a device for me to play Snake, is now flashing ‘reality’ at me across multiple apps and platforms, if actually, reality TV is now a safer place to be. Well, at least it is for me, the viewer, from the comfort and safety from my home. Not necessarily for the contestants who consent to only so much. So is it our responsibility to switch off? Or would we be sacrificing more than we think, by losing a phenomenon which has now solidly secured its place within the zeitgeist?
Like any good situationship, the moment I go to sashay away, I’ll play a damn immunity idol and keep the flame burning bright.
Eloise Snape is an Associate Director of The Edit, produced by Unlikely Productions and Legit Theatre Co and playing at Belvoir’s Downstairs Theatre from 7 – 26 October. Tickets are available here.
