2008 Woodie Awards
CelebReality: VH1's New Blast from the Past
Feeling violated by the invasion of CelebReality? You aren't the only one.
Genesis Whitlock
Issue date: 4/22/05 Section: Opinions
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Celebrity reality shows treat their avid watchers to the day-to-day activities of the stars whose lives they follow religiously. Any personality who feels his or her present situation doesn't warrant enough paparazzi stalking can go to a major broadcasting company, sign his/her life away to the media bosses, and- voila-commercials for 'The Nonexistent Life of Scott Baio' air every ten minutes for a month.
Generally, semi-famous faces who bravely take the leap into television experience "trickle-down" success in their alternate fields. People start reasoning, "That pop star is so adorably dumb. Maybe her new CD is worth a listen." The following week, cosmetic endorsements and movie deals come pouring in, accompanied a healthy following of imitators who don platinum hair extensions and baby doll dresses. As a result, that celebrity is instantly catapulted into A-list stardom. Other celebrities follow suit like dogs-the raw smell of success via shameless self-promotion dangles before them like a perfectly aged steak. Thus, a barrage of celebrity reality shows floods each channel.
One can't help but feel violated by the intrusion of 80's and 90's has-beens into valuable television time. VH1, the retro-crazy network, features programming they call "CelebReality," which features stars no one has seen since the decline of acid-wash denim. For instance, "Strange Love" features the odd romance between Flavor Flav, hype man for Public Enemy, and Brigitte Nielsen, the tall blonde chick from 'Rocky IV.' "Strange" is the only way to describe it-they have a relationship so bizarre it can't be faked, or else television writers have sunk to an all-time low. There's also "The Surreal Life," a spin-off of the popular MTV series that holes up the egos of seven flunkies who still think they're famous. I could care less about Peter Brady's sex life, but that's just me.
Then there's the brand of reality shows in which pop stars attempt to show their adoring fans that there's more to them than smoke and mirrors. I find these shows to be most humorous, because the reality protagonists expect to be taken seriously when they emote in a confessional: "I just wish people see the real me." Are we supposed to believe Jessica when she says this after watching her idiotically pretend not to know what Buffalo wings are? I think not. Fortunately, television has treated her sister, Ashlee, much better-the vocally inept pop star received her own coattail-riding show, followed by a hit album; she also doesn't have to worry about people seeing the "real her," because the queen of nepotism reveals her true identity as a poser-cum-teenybopper idol to her devoted viewers each week. Following suit (and probably wondering how Jessica suddenly became more famous), Britney and her 170 pounds of dead weight, Kevin Federline, are also slated to air their own "fairy-tale romance" in a reality series. Fans are hoping her show will give them an idea of what true love really is.
And last, but certainly not least, a recent uprising of celebrity reality shows provide a glimpse into the glamorous lives of heiresses who desperately want to show the world that they're not just living off the fruits of their oil-magnate grandfather's labor - they're doing important things for the community, like doing product inspection for every Louis Vuitton purse. More notably, Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie demonstrate in their series 'The Simple Life' how truly horrible it is to work for a living by doing (pardon my French) manual labor. Viewers can all learn from their self-sacrificing attitude, as well as their ability to meet each situation with a vapid expression and the words, "That's hot."
One day, someone will be studying our ancient civilization and assume that our gods were these people featured in reality shows, tabloids, and plastic surgeons' reference books. Whatever happened to admiring people who didn't have to broadcast themselves to make their mark on society?
Is our society so far gone that it's unpopular to admire heroes of women's suffrage, but ideal to worship people whose only impact on society is what they're wearing to awards shows? The answer is likely yes, but that's fixable-if we started a pop group comprised of Nobel Prize winners and documented their rise to stardom on a television series, then maybe the viewing public would adopt a new "civil rights is hot" trend.