I know this won’t exactly be a revolutionary revelation.
America already knows reality shows are fictional crap, but they’ve decided to buy into them anyway, just as a distraction from panic or because they’re too weary to argue.
But for the record, let me explain why I know they’re made up, and then we can go back to finishing our lobotomies and sitting down to watch some more garbaggio:
When you see the camera swoop in on two women having an angry lunch–to pick one random example of a reality show scene–that didn’t just happen!
The restaurant had to be notified, clearances were made, a call sheet went out to everyone involved, the “stars” were dolled up in advance, and then everyone sat down to perform their little hearts out!
And they knew before sitting down just what the intention of the scene was–i.e., so-and-so’s pissed that she didn’t get invited to a birthday party, or she’s nervous that she can’t make the birthday party, or whatever trivial insanity has been cooked up for conflict’s sake, as long as there’s lots of bickering and kvetching.
It’s not like the camera just caught such a dramatic battle by sheer chance!
It’s not like this is a meal they would have had at all if it weren’t for producers who looked around for a nice looking spot that would agree to be a free location in exchange for the publicity!
Furthermore, most people communicate via emails, tweets, and texts nowadays, but not on reality shows.
That would be boring to watch, so instead they set up all these face-to-face meetings–walking through the park, shrieking at a party, and so on.
It’s contrived! It’s fiction! They got a call sheet!
When a reality star’s father turned up “by surprise” in one episode last season, I really had to laugh.
If it was really a surprise, wouldn’t he have said, “What are these cameras doing here?”
Naturally, he had been prepped to appear, was prepared to sign a release, and probably had done three or four takes of “surprising” his daughter.
The only surprise to me is that audiences still tune in to this swill as if they’re watching actual drama, and then try to seriously converse with you about the ramifications of the last episode.
Believe me, people.
My words are not fiction.