The reality of reality TV

Reality TV and Society

How much of reality TV actually reflects the reality of society? Do most girls date several men at once and carry roses around to give to those who just don’t make the cut? Or is it simply the presence of these shows which speaks about where we are at as a society, more than the actual content.

As the media steadily becomes more sensationalised, our obsession with scandal and the intimate and dirty details of other peoples’ lives becomes more and more apparent.

It seems reality is no longer real or exciting enough any more, we want the larger-than-life version of everything to keep us entertained.

But is entertainment all there is to reality TV? Or is there serious comment and information to be garnered from the shows which flood our screens.

Take for example shows like The Bachelorette.

Yes, there are many of us in the world who are looking for that special person, as is evidenced by the plethora of dating sites and singles who have gone through heart brake only to get back out there and try again.

But how many women gather a group of interested men and try them out as if they were trying on shoes, at the same time playing them off against each other to see who will go the furthest to win her heart.

In the real world, not many. And yet this makes for compelling reality TV.

We love the drama, the intrigue and the emotion and even though we know it is trash we can’t tear ourselves away.

But what is this show really saying? In years to come will our grandchildren look back at this and think this is how society functioned?

My guess is no. Just as romance novels, soap operas, plays and films have done before it, this genre merely serves to point to the societal times we are in.

We are obsessed with the immediacy and quick-fix nature of an internet and converging media age.

But how long can we crave all that is sensational without it becoming entrenched in the way we actually function? Is reality TV a product of our society, or are we the product ourselves?

The mark of quality

Television has turned full circle.

Once, a pass time which was only afforded to a select group who could afford to have it as a novelty, it soon became a low-brow from of entertainment for the masses.

But now it seems TV is making a come back as a chic and ‘high-end’ entertainment source.

As Flow TV’s Michael Kackman puts it, “The medium – once roundly dismissed as a guilty pleasure or “bad object” – is now regularly discussed in aesthetic terms previously reserved for the relatively more legitimate popular art form of cinema.”

More and more we are hearing about ‘quality’ TV, but what is it that makes a program a part of this elite field, merging into the aesthetic space previously reserved for film?

To Jason Mittell, the answer lies in narrative complexities and their relation to the social times in which they appear.

This discourse of ‘quality’ involves textual features and also takes into account the the way a show is produced and who it is produced for, the ‘quality audience’.

Series such as The Wire and other HBO hits which evolve slowly and meticulously seem to hold a higher purpose than pure entertainment.

As an audience, we are expected to invest time and concentration into these complex narratives so we can fully appreciate the subtle nuances and convoluted character back stories of the show.

As  Kackman argues, “the operational aesthetic doesn’t come simply from observing the workings of a finely crafted watch, but from a sense that the product of its machinery will be something more broadly meaningful – it tells us what time it is. This is, essentially, a cultural operation, not an aesthetic one.”

This is an interesting point as it begs the question of whether ‘quality’ TV now will still be considered so in years to come.

Will The Wire, Arrested Development and Lost  be seen as high-brow entertainment in a decade?

There are definitely certain aspects which will always combine to create such ‘quality’ TV as is displayed in these shows.

The texts are carefully constructed, well filmed and brilliantly acted, but are these the only aspects which afford quality?

Kackman thinks not: “What’s really key here is melodrama’s investment in its immediate cultural environs, that is to say, not just its formal play, but its engagement of cultural tensions, instabilities, and anxieties.”

This certainly occurs in The Wire which takes the cultural and racial stereotypes found in the American slums and throws them in the face of the viewer.

Its power comes from the raw, impolite and politically incorrect way in which it shows society that it is becoming a terribly real version of some of its worst caricatures.

But this refreshing and intelligent commentary is not necessarily enjoyed by all facets of society, even if it is appreciated.

As Janet McCabe and Kim Akass reflect in their book Quality TV, quality TV and good TV are not necessarily the same thing.

They include an account in their work of a student who watched a so-called ‘quality’ TV show and then commented that they did not enjoy it but they could tell it was of high quality.

McCabe and Akass assert, “we are able to conclude that something is of high quality based not on our own experience or critical judgement of it, but on our recognition of particular aesthetic features it contains” (pg20).

So why is it that we cannot attribute quality to shows which bring us pleasure as well as those we see as expertly crafted commentaries?

Do HBO dramas which can be slow and unforgiving to the viewers hold so much more than the reality TV we veg out in front of?

In a way they both comment on the society we live in, but for now only one is ‘quality’.

Assignment 1

Please look at the following four posts:

• Where one ends and the other begins
• Let the credits roll
• Lost in translation
• The Walter Cronkite days are dead

Thank you. Kate O’Connell.

Where one ends and the other begins

We’ve all experienced the excitement of hearing one of our favourite books is being turned into a movie or TV series. But have you ever stopped to think about what happens in this process? Where does the adaptation end and extension begin? And is there a big enough difference between the two ideas to warrant distinguishing them? Henry Jenkins would say yes.

According to Jenkins, adaption and extension can be understood as separate ideas in the paradigm of transmedia. He states, “an adaptation takes the same story from one medium and retells it in another. An extension seeks to add something to the existing story as it moves from one medium to another.” However, Jenkins also recognises that the ideas inevitably cross over and meld together throughout the process of a text going from medium to another: “It might be better to think of adaptation and extension as part of a continuum in which both poles are only theoretical possibilities and most of the action takes place somewhere in the middle.”

The way in which these two aspects of transmedia mix becomes interesting when you delve into the intricacies involved in adapting a well loved text from one form into another. A good example to look at is the popular American TV series M*A*S*H. This series was adapted from a 1970 feature film which was itself adapted from a 1968 novel. Each adaptation brought new aspects to the characters and story, thus extending the original text. The most noteworthy of these is the addition of  Maxwell Klinger’s character in the television series. Now one of the most widely known and loved characters associated with MASH, Klinger consistently dressed in women’s clothing in an attempt to be discharged for psychiatric reasons. A well known and entertaining part of the series, Klinger’s character appeared in neither the original novel nor the feature film.

This extension to the story world of the mobile hospital established in the original novel is a significant one. This is especially true because many fans of the series have probably never read the novel and therefore Klinger is a part of the original world building experience they associate with the story.

This kind of extension is occurring all the time through the adaptation of novels and movies. Jenkins uses Christy Dena’s example of the Harry Potter books. Dena argues that the simple act of translating the books into a movie series demands a much deeper look into what Hogwarts would look like and what each character will look and sound like. This is itself a form of extending the text.

Of course, the use of transmedia now means texts can be extended in many ways through webisodes, fan sites, games, YouTube clips and live performances. But the really intriguing thing to consider is where does adaptation end and extension begin?

Let the credits roll

It’s all a matter of taste. How many times have we made a snap judgement and backed it up with this idea? For centuries, taste has been a part of societal function and today it is used as a form of cultural capital. A person’s taste not only helps to signal their individual identity, but it also allows a classification to take place in the minds of others.

Taste is used as a distinction between high and low culture and determines the way an audience relates to certain texts. Just as taste is a distinguishing feature of each individual, it is similarly a distinguishing feature of audiences. As Eve Ng argues in ‘Telling Tastes’, “the space of competition for status exists in the domain of taste and its (usually) less blatant hierarchies”. Such hierarchies exist not only in the social interactions of daily life, but also in the battle for attention on the TV set. This is clearly demonstrated by the opening credits of TV shows.

The feel, intricate nuances and themes of a show can be seen in their opening credits. Thus, this is often where the ruling about the ‘taste’ of the show, it’s high or low-browness, takes place. Throughout the history of TV the style and use of opening credits has changed substantially. In the broadcast era of TV credits were functional and used mainly to introduce the characters and actors. However, they still gave the audience a feel for what they were about to watch.

Take for example, the opening credits of Bewitched. Made in the mid 60s, this opening sequence uses cartoon imagery of the characters to introduce the actors and actresses who play them. However, from this short scene there is enough to show that the show upholds traditional values (the wife in the kitchen when the husband comes home) with a harmless and amusing twist of witchcraft.

Opening credits today take on a similar and yet drastically altered role. Instead of the focus being solely on the introduction of characters or on showing snippets from the show’s last season (as was popular in the 90s), opening credits are much more about conveying the feel and ‘taste’ of the show. This can be seen in the opening of The Big Bang Theory  and Chuck. Both of these opening sequences convey the essential elements and themes of the show without explicitly showing what it is about. While the opening credits of Chuck have more of a focus on introducing the characters than some other contemporary shows, there is always the tempting distraction and thread of the ‘Buy More man’ taking your eye to other aspects of the credit roll.

None of the shows mentioned above would be considered ‘high-class’ entertainment. And yet, all shows have a solid fan base and regular audience. As Kevin Glynn states in Tabloid Culture: trash taste (pg. 102) “popular culture always does more than provide the low-Other against which the respectable attempts to distinguish itself”. So, while our viewing choices may reflect a matter of taste, one positioned around the themes conveyed by each show, can we really say that one sense of taste is more correct than another?

Lost in translation

No matter where you are, news and programs on television will always be framed in local, national contexts. Yet, with the rise of globalisation, the world seems to be getting smaller every day and a drift of TV content from one side of the world to the other can be clearly seen.

Television is now a major presence in most countries and can claim a true transnational presence. The emergence of transnational TV channels in the past two decades has allowed the common experience and the public sphere of TV to transcend national borders. As Jean K. Chalaby argues in ‘Towards an Understanding of Media Transnationalism’ in Transnational Television Worldwide (2005) in the 1980s and early 90s it was believed that “it was only a matter of time before cultural differences among nations gave way to a global culture” (pg 3).

However, Chalaby also recognises that the deterritorialization of TV channels, though demanded by certain groups of diaspora, underestimated the demand for local content. He also highlights the transnational nature of TV formats and the ability of producers to adapt them for nationally contextual content.

The reality is that TV content is still tied up with the ordinary concerns of daily life and therefore is still very much a localised, domestic medium. It’s concerns are bound by national contextual frames and though shows may be embraced in different countries, have you ever thought about how much has been lost in translation?

Have you ever really watched an American TV show and payed close attention to everything that is said or referenced? Although it is assumed that Western countries enjoy a shared history, just as this is often assumed in Asia, there are many differences in the national contexts and audiences. American TV shows are widely watched and very polular in Australia, but the reality remains that we don’t understand and can’t fully appreciate these shows because they are framed in their own, unique contexts.

Just as many American viewers can’t quite grasp the humour of ‘We Can Be Heroes’, Family Guy is largely lost on us. Although we recognise the format and can appreciate the comedy, so many of the references just aren’t within our spheres of recognition or reality.

It is just like Chalaby argues,  “the most pressing issue is the difficulty of stepping outside the prison house of national perspective” (pg 10).

The Walter Cronkite days are dead

In the broadcast era of television, the news represented a crux in daily life. The nightly news schedule represented more than an opportunity for people to be informed of the day’s events. It also reinforced gender roles and formed a daily ritual.

But TV has changed, and so has the news. The media was, and still is, an important part of the mechanism through which nations and societies may conduct conversations with themselves, and with the rest of the world. However, with the increasing mobility and multifaceted abilities of media technologies today, we have seen a rise in the sensational nature of news.

In order to attract an audience in a world where websites, streaming and citizen journalism are running rampant, news outlets are trying to outdo one another with stories that have it all. Sex, scandal and intrigue sell, and most news outlets need the sales. The recent News of the Worldblow up in Murdoch’s media empire exemplifies this perfectly.

Additionally, we have seen a growing ability for bias reporting as politically polarised news stations skew the news to fit their values. One of the most comprehensive surveys of the public’s opinion of the media, conducted in 1997, showed that people were increasingly recognising the bias in the media.  The findings stated: “Two-thirds (67%) said agreed with the statement: ‘In dealing with political and social issues, news organizations tend to favor one side.’”

It seems increasingly that the public does not trust or appreciate news in the ways we used to. American news anchor Walter Cronkite was the most trusted man in America during his 19 years at CBS, but it seems the days of Walter Cronkite are dead.

One of the most telling signs of the corrosion of authority in traditional news is the shift that has been seen in America to satire news programs such as The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Journalism.org reported that when Americans voted on the journalists they most admired in 2007, comedian Jon Stewart ranked at no. 4.

In 2009 a telephone poll by Rasmussen Reports gave these results:

“Nearly one-third of Americans under the age of 40 say satirical news-oriented television programs like The Colbert Report and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart are taking the place of traditional news outlets.”

Have we reached a point where traditional news will no longer be a crux in daily life? Perhaps we have. We no longer have to wait to get home to watch the news, it migrates and is accessible wherever we are. However, despite the shift to satirical news programs seen in the USA, traditional news still holds a unique place in our lives. What has changed the most is the way in which it is brought to us.