Dude, Where’s the Program?
Despite the fact that I'm well into my third year of abstention from television-watching, I freely admit that a morbid fascination with the medium (in all it's lethargy-inducing, brain-frying 'glory') still remains. This past weekend, for example, I spent 2 nights in the multi-channel land of my girlfriend's parents' house, and couldn't resist the opportunity this afforded to turn on, tune in, and drop off (to sleep).
Yes folks, 'TV' is every bit as tedious and soul-sucking as I remember, but now with an added twist – it's often rather difficult to tell whether one's watching an advertisement for a forthcoming program, or, the program itself.
A perfect example of this perplexing trend can be found in the Jackass meets Changing Rooms malarkey that is Extreme Makeover: Home Edition – a show one can fairly succinctly summarise as follows: "Dude, you're poor! So we're gonna trash your house and, like, build you a better one!"1
The unstoppable juggernaut that is 'Reality TV' has, it would seem, been largely responsible for a Pompidou Centre-like revolution in mainstream television. The 'inside' has become the 'outside', and 'process' has replaced 'finished product'.2 The "Making of…" the show has (sometimes understandably) become more interesting than the show itself, to the point where it often (a la Extreme Makeover etc.) replaces the 'actual show' by becoming…er…the actual show.3
The entire drive of Extreme Makeover: HE seems to be based around the idea of something 'coming right up', something just about to happen. The viewer, therefore, sits through ad break after ad break, in a state of vaguely-interested expectation, hoping that a) the 'actual show' will eventually get going, and, b) that it will eventually conclude satisfactorily.
This forestalling of 'pleasure' caused me no end of bewildered irritation, however, as 90% of the show's runtime seems devoted to (after the fact) reflections and musings about the events we have collectively just witnessed. The trouble is, we hardly witness anything at all, other than 10-second snippets of 'action' before we're back to the 'talking heads' telling us what it all means, and how it all felt. It's all a bit like a football broadcast where we're treated to 2 minutes of highlights followed by 2 hours of post-match discussion and debate.
"Where's the show?!" I found myself crying in confusion, "Is this it? Is it coming later? Did I miss it?" Perhaps I'm too much of an out-of-touch old fuddy-duddy (tv-wise) to appreciate the 'joys' of a scenario where the 'finished' program always seems to be elsewhere (forestalled indefinitely) but let's just say I won't be rushing to renew my acquaintance with the medium any time soon.
Bah, humbug.
- There's also lots of hugging and crying… [back]
- Back in the 'old days' the creation of a boy/girl band was a process that happened behind closed doors, something best hidden lest there be cries of 'inauthenticity'. Now, however, the actual creation of the band (in front of a captive audience) is the authentic moment – with everything after just a post script. [back]
- Help! My head hurts… [back]
February 27, 2006
12 responses to Dude, Where’s the Program?
Regrettably I have not, as of yet, experienced the joys of “extreme makeover: home edition” but I presuppose that this show is much akin to the original “extreme makeover” show which rather than being summarised as: “dude you’re poor so we’ll rip down your house and give you a new one” can be aptly put as: “dude you’re ugly so we’ll rip open your face and give you a new one”.
Yes, indeed the original makeover show consisted of finding the most unsightly and overweight individuals in America and through a process of much tears, a lots of plastic surgery and the provision of a new dress or two this person suddenly lost all their inhibitions, gained bucket loads of self-esteem and, consequently, becomes an acceptable member of our society.
This show also suffered from having a similar lack of content yet the producers seem to keep you watching by the constant promise that in the next part of tonight’s episode something will actually happen. As well as this I for one have an uncontrollable desire to see the end product of these shows whether it be a newly beautified individual or a cheaply decorated living room I can’t help but be compelled to stick it out to the bitter and largely unsatisfying end.
zoidberg,
I don’t think I ever saw the original Extreme Makeover but I can well imagine the (strangely captivating) horror of it.
Even more amusing/alarming than the “make ugly people beautiful”-style makeover you describe are the “my tearaway teen” jobs. Format is as follows:
“My teenage daughter is (shock, horror) moody, disrespectful, hostile etc. What’s worse, she dresses in black, has piercings, and listens to Marilyn Manson! It can only be a matter of time, surely, before she murders us in our beds in tribute to her lord and master SATAN!”
So what’s the solution to this ‘problem’? Does the host of whatever show it is suggest that the daughter is simply acting in a wholly normal, and even healthy, way? Are the parents reassured that, despite current hostilities, the teenager in question will (most likely) grow up to be a fairly balanced and considerate human being?
No chance. The solution is simple: Send her off for a makeover that turns her into an uber-conservative, ‘wanting to fit in’, sensibly-dressed ‘preppy’ nightmare.
Cue tears, hugs, and mass puking from the more cynical elements of the home audience…
in fairness to extreme makeovers there’s nothing cheap about it (well, they spend a lot of money anyway).
i watched one day as they fixed up the shack of a 30 year old amer-indian or mexican guy who was taking care of his five brothers and sisters and four nephews following some unspeakably grim incident that had wiped out most of the family’s adults – not only did they knock the shack and build as big a house as could fit on the site they actually threw in a free car. left me in tears. the whole thing is so mad it’s unmissable
I’m a regular “contestant” on these shows. It helps me to build my profile as an actress/model/whatever.
But Fústar is right. The more of these shows I’ve done, I’ve noticed that the fact that not much is going on between my ears has translated into the fact that nothing is going on on screen.
I recently had the dubious pleasure of seeing a new “reality” tv show – well it was new to me at any rate – called “Cheaters”. The premise of this car wreck of a tv show is that people who suspect their lover is cheating on them can contact the series producers who then, no doubt after confirming that all involved are suitably insane, release a team of detectives to stalk the “cheater”, filming and recording their every indiscretion.
Then, in full view of the cameras, they pass on the sordid information to the unfortunate cuckold (this usually comes in the form of night vision video footage of the said cheater mounting some young one on the bonnet of a 4×4 in a car park) . At this point the host encourages the (generally devastated) individual to confront their worse half so that the final throes of the relationship can be captured on film for all the world to see. Splendid stuff as you can imagine. Cannibalism by another name.
was it walter benjamin or max webber who said we would recognize the final triumph of fascism when we saw our own destruction presented back to us as entertainment?
No, I think it was Craig Charles from Robot Wars.
Craig Charles from Corrie you mean
Corrie you say? How can one man possess such an abundance of talent?
Let’s not forget Red Dwarf – it’s cold outside.
Cheaters is unbelievable. The presenter is hideously evil. You can see him thinking, how can I push this person more, what’s left of this personality to strip away.
Copernicus, how right you are. The host of Cheaters is evil incarnate. Just as the confrontation segment (and I’m sure it’s referred to as such during production meetings) is beginning to lull, this bastard sticks his oar in in a twisted effort to prolong the entire fiasco, presumably in the hope of catalysing a live tv homicide.
I can only see an end to the reality era when someone finally produces a show called, simply, The Jacks.
Forget this reality tv gack. There’s quality tomfoolery afoot in this weeks issue of “America’s Finest News Source”.
http://www.theonion.com/content/node/45792