Story by Dianne Burch
Illustrations by Edward Schnurr

When the term “reality TV” entered the vernacular several years back, it conjured up one image: Survivor. Now, with the fall television lineup including more reality shows than any other single genre, it’s no longer easy to categorize.

Take NBC’s The Contender. Consider it the latest attempt to capture the water-cooler-buzz of that network’s No. 1 show, The Apprentice, except these battles are waged to see who gets to stay in the ring instead of the boardroom.

Then there are the reality shows that prey upon an individual’s poor self-image, calling on contestants to vie to be transformed into The Swan, thanks to “improvements” brought on through massive plastic surgery. Somewhere in the mix is the talent show like American Idol, which drew No. 1 ratings as millions of viewers voted on which unknown singer would gain a recording contract.

Even Bravo, the cable arts channel, offers Blowout, which takes viewers inside a trendy L.A. salon for what it bills as “reality TV, Bravo style.” This is the same channel that gave America a different dose of reality with Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

To sort it all out, we sought the expertise of Sheri Parks, associate professor of American Studies, who specializes in popular culture. “The genre is now so huge that you can’t talk about it as an individual type of show,” says Parks. “I think it is really transforming television itself.”

She finds today’s offerings a far cry from The Cosby Show, which Bill Cosby said that he used to instruct parents and their children on how to behave. As a backlash to this perfect world where all problems—minor—could be solved within 30 minutes, there was the advent of situation comedies with “happy losers,” such as Seinfeld and Friends.

“So, there’s this collapsing between the idealized form and the audience. And reality TV is a continuation of that process,” says Parks, who is fascinated by the anomaly of the name. If it truly were reality, we would follow the events in real time, a format tried by PBS about 20 years ago and never repeated.

“The aesthetic of television is that everything is condensed. On Queer Eye, for instance, notice that [the Fab Five appear to] run everywhere,” observes Parks, a device that allows them to condense what is really four or five days into a very short period of time.

Where, Oh Where, Has the Sitcom Gone? With last season’s final curtain call for two sit-com staples, Friends and Frazier, dark days loom for those in search of humor. “We’re in a period where [the sitcom] is losing ground to other genres, such as reality shows but I wouldn’t write it off just yet,” says Lawrence Mintz, associate professor of American Studies and director of the Art Gliner Center for Humor studies. He bemoans the fact there isn’t a current show with the status of a M.A.S.H. or Cheers or an All in the Family. Comedy, for the time being, has been supplanted by reality television. The irony is that both represent opposite takes on the American Dream. “One of our dreams is a dream of success, fame and fortune, individual achievement, ‘winning’ and such,” says Mintz, characteristics of most reality shows. “But another is a dream of peace, harmony, acceptance, cooperation, unity, community, family and such,” which are the underpinnings of situation comedy. Mintz explains that the sitcom, from the earliest days, relied on people helping each other in spite of their failures or problems. Mintz gives the example of I Love Lucy: “Lucille Ball was always trying to get out of her role as housewife but she always failed; she always screwed up. But in the end the idea was, ‘it’s OK,’ because she’s got Ricky and she’s got her world. And she belongs there.” Consider M.A.S.H.: It was set during the Korean War, but the comedy revolved around antics like making bootleg gin, with a benevolent father figure and a child to care for (Radar), surrounded by an array of lovable aunts and uncles. In short, says Mintz: “What the sitcom is about is a place where everybody knows your name.” —DB

Getting Real

What all of the programs do have in common is the use of people who are not trained actors. Because they are not scripted, viewers find it easier to become involved with these people’s lives, to identify with them more, says Parks.

The media provides that opportunity, for a price. “I think we are beginning to see much more emphasis on social class,” says Parks. “You can take the long road or you can say, ‘How can I get there more quickly?’ ”

But it’s not all negative. Parks finds American Idol to be much more uplifting than the combative reality shows. Take the two finalists from last season. “Diana was talked about as the girl next door and Fantasia was a young mother, and so we watched these young women fulfill their dreams.”

Many of the lifestyle reality shows also affect participants in a positive way. “TV is starting to look much more like magazines, where the audience is very tight and you can predict their behavior,” says Parks, who admits to being a fan of Queer Eye, particularly its first season. “It’s interesting to watch a show transform at least the public acceptance of a minority group in a few short months.”

Today, we have much more sophisticated ways of segmenting the market, explains Janet Wagner, associate chair of the Department of Marketing in the Robert H. Smith School of Business. This is in sharp contrast to the homogenous group of viewers who watched sitcoms in the 1950s. “So market segments are becoming smaller and smaller,” says Wagner. “And, they’re not just demographically driven; they’re also being driven by lifestyle.”

With cable TV now in nearly 80 percent of American homes, some viewers can choose from dozens of stations already attuned to their interests—which also leads to more aggressive use of product placement, particularly within the reality show format.

When the Queer Eye guys talk about a “chofa”—a cross between a chair and a sofa—one furniture store in a local mall displays one with an “As Seen on” sign. Parks observes that people are drawn to look at the piece of furniture because they like the show. “The program becomes the point of sale.”

Since most reality shows appeal to a younger demographic group who are looking for something edgy, Wagner finds The Apprentice unusual in that it crosses demographic segments. It has the “young Turks” competing for a job with Donald Trump, who appeals to the middle-aged consumer or viewer. “I think that’s one of the reasons why that has had such broad appeal,” says Wagner, who notes that two faculty members in the business school even used it in conjunction with a management course on negotiations.

When will reality TV lose its luster? “The television industry tends to imitate itself to death,” says Parks, reminding us of those ubiquitous quiz shows several decades back. Stay tuned. TERP

Clearly Heard Each Saturday at 7 a.m. (with rebroadcast Sunday at 8 a.m.) on 89.7 FM from Baltimore, Md., Sheri Parks, associate professor of American Studies, offers her insight into popular culture and cultural affairs on the hour-long radio show, Clear Reception with Sheri Parks. On one recent show, celebrated journalists Tom Brokaw, Tim Russert and Bill Moyers shared their views with Parks about the need for Americans to examine the historical soul of the nation. The signal reaches most of Maryland and the show is also Webcast simultaneously and archived at www.wtmd.org.