The Stage

Reality Check

Published Thursday 8 July 2004 at 13:55

As the BBC bids to quash the tide of reality TV, Chris Bartlett presents the case for some surprising delights.

Reality used to be a friend of theirs. But the television genre that, until recently, all the major networks wanted a slice of now seems to have become a watchword for all that is base and tawdry about our television output.This volte-face has even been formalised.

The dreaded R-word was a linchpin of new BBC chairman Michael Grade’s latest submission for charter renewal when he set out the Corporation’s stall on the matter on June 30.Grade cited a reduction in reality TV and makeover shows, as well as a greater emphasis on the arts and more regional output, as one of the key provisions for keeping the licence fee. In the future, Grade promised, the BBC would no longer offer “cynical, derivative, exploitative programming”. Commentators have taken that to mean programmes like Fame Academy, spelling the end for the BBC1 talent show that was openly criticised for being little more than a pale imitation of ITV 1’s Pop Idol. But until recently, programmes such as Fame Academy had been defended by the Corporation as being an essential part of the BBC’s remit for providing something for all its licence-payers.

In truth, the Corporation is probably beginning to realise that the other networks can do the genre so much better. But is it right to lay all the evils of our current television output squarely at the door of reality television? If done right, isn’t reality TV just as legitimate a form of entertainment as any other? And can the genre even be seen as a force for good?

The truth is, reality TV has evolved. Today’s versions of the form have moved on a pace from its humble beginnings back in the summer of 2000, when the UK version of Channel 4’s Big Brother first graced or, as some would argue, soiled our screens. Since then Big Brother itself has grown out of all proportions. And while

the current series - the show’s fifth - has already been roundly condemned as being the most loathsome, manipulative and morally bankrupt yet, you have to admit its producers know how to reshape and refine the formula to produce some compelling television.

Now the word ‘refine’ is used here advisedly. The upshot of the determination of programme-makers Endemol to perfect the selection process and reward system so as to maximise conflict and, therefore, avoid a repeat of last year’s largely incident free competition, has been an increase in rows and near physical altercations. These reached their peak on June 17, when a mass brawl broke out and one of the contestants threatened to kill another housemate, forcing the Big Brother production team to send in security and cut the live feed.Before then, the show’s latest innovation, which saw housemates Michelle and Emma segregated in a mocked up bedsit where they could listen into the rest of the house, had proved a ratings winner. Added to this was the fact that this year’s crop of contestants has been the most exhibitionist and sexually unfettered in the show’s lifetime, boasting a transsexual and several bisexuals among their number. The tactic had given Channel 4 bigger audiences than for any edition of Big Brother last year, barring the Friday night eviction shows.

But in Big Brother we have the extreme. Because while the genre’s founding father has been busying itself by catering for audiences’ baser instincts the rest of reality TV has raised its game.

Channel 4’s compulsive Wife Swap, made by the team behind the similarly entertaining Faking It, is currently in its second series and showing no signs of losing its, admittedly car crash-like, appeal. But last month BBC2 debuted its own version of the show - and showed that reality TV can be more than an exercise in sideshow rubbernecking. When Mummy Became Daddy showed what happened when a father of four swapped duties with his housewife spouse for a fortnight. The results were enlightening with - despite getting off to the inevitable bumpy start - the subjects being shown to be genuinely enriched by the experience. Earlier this year My Week in the Real World, also on BBC2, plucked politicians from the plushly carpeted portals of Whitehall and made them work for a living. Episode one featured Clare Short teaching geography to suitably unresponsive pupils at a Southfields comprehensive. The results, again, were illuminating.

But this better, brighter generation of reality television is not just consigned to the minority channels. After triumphantly cutting its teeth on successive series of I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!, the grown-up, ratings friendly antidote to Big Brother, last month ITV1 scored another hit with Hell’s Kitchen. The show, which saw foul-mouthed, Michelin-starred chef Gordon Ramsay training a troupe of celebrities, including Edwina Curry and ex-Bros star Matt Goss, to work in his kitchen, looked at first glance like the worst kind of stunt television. But the surprise was, as the fortnight wore on, it became clear that, far from being a bit of showbiz fakery, the participants were actually being groomed to work as genuine kitchen hands in a real, working restaurant.

The effect was to lift the show head and shoulders above the usual celebrity-endorsed fluff channels usually serve up.And ITV reaped the rewards. A peak of 8.1 million viewers tuned in to see former Brookside actress Jennifer Ellison emerge victorious, virtually guaranteeing a much welcome second series.

So it would be wrong to write off reality television as a pernicious irritant. The reality is, like so much of television programming, to do so is to ignore the diamonds which almost inevitably poke their way through the rough.