When my late partner Mary-Ellis Bunim, a producer of daytime soaps, and I came together in the late 1980s to create MTV's "The Real World," reality television, as we know it today, was nonexistent. Our plan at first had been to do a scripted series about young people starting out their lives in New York. But a scripted show was prohibitively expensive, so we took the documentary approach instead. We quickly realized that an unscripted, real-life show would be much more relevant to MTV's young audience.
The problem with this entire piece isn't that "reality television" has created monsters such as the balloon boy, the train-wreck Jon & Kate Plus Eight, or the Kardashians. The problem, embedded in Murray's article (presumably) in his own words, is the contradiction at the heart of the genre.
We don't tell the cast what to say, but we do edit the episodes to contain stories with a beginning, middle and end.
So, despite calling it "reality" television, it is just . . . television. There is nothing real about it. Life isn't a story, with clean beginnings, plot-lines and story points, and endings that tie up all the loose ends. Presenting something as "real" that is deliberately contrived doesn't so much create false expectations among the viewers or participants as it does misrepresent the challenges and ambiguities of real life. By offering "ordinary people" the opportunity for fame, if not necessarily fortune, it also appeals to the most superficial desire for instant fame without any sacrifice. As the Gosselins, the Kardashians, and many others have found, though, sacrifice usually comes at some point, and if not offered voluntarily, extracts an even greater toll further on.
There was nothing "real" about the original MTV's The Real World, any more than there is Survivor, Fear Factor, or any of the rest of these abominations. Murray's contention that the shows are real because they aren't scripted belies the fact that, by editing out the boring, or uncontroversial, or too controversial, parts the producers end up with a representation not of reality, but of a narrative of certain events, some of which may not even have transpired as presented.
The lure of fame, and the promise of easy success that seems to flow out of Hollywood's shit factories has reached a kind of resting place with reality television. As the example of the train-wreck life of Jon and Kate Gosselin should demonstrate for anyone with a modicum of sense, the issue isn't reality. The issue is fame, and how emotionally equipped an individual or family is to handle it. Even the hardiest psyche would probably buckle a little bit under the various pressures presented by the constant presence of a television production crew, the creation of a reality more real than the humdrum, boring, existence we all live offered up for world-wide delectation, and the sudden realization that one can become "well-known" for no other reason than having one's face on television.
Yet, Murray believes people should get "real". The easiest way to do this is to shut off the boob tube, stop believing that fame, money, and ease come without price and sacrifice, and start living without the expectation that there is anything more real, or wonderful, than the ambiguous lives we all lead.
