The end of reality?

Perhaps a moderately overdramatic title, but I bet it made you look. I am infact referring to Reality TV. A genre of TV that has single handily overhauled prime time TV. Ten years ago, shows with the inclusion of ‘ordinary’ (and I use the term in a non-famous sense; not in the sense that they are all there in the head) people were very few and far between. However, a night without a reality TV show is now as rare as an episode of Top Gear where Clarkson doesn’t poke fun at Richard Hammond’s height.

There is good reason to this however. With a near endless catalogue of formats that reality TV can inhabit, there is much scope for producers to continually put different shows on the production line. Combined with the fact that they are predominantly low budget and that the shows makers can often use everyday people/fleeting celebrities as the contestants, it has been seen as a winning formula.

Shows such as The X Factor, Britain’s Got Talent, Who wants to be a millionaire and I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here have all been overwhelming successes. Successions of talented, lovable or amusing people have created TV gold. They have been the creators of iconic moments that are unlikely to be forgotten anytime soon. Names such as Leona Lewis or Susan Boyle conjure up thoughts of when they performed and grew before our eyes. As the viewing public we grew attached, each holding onto the ideal that in some tiny, small way, we were as integral to their successes as the judges or shows themselves! Equally I challenge anybody to mention I’m A Celebrity and their first thought not immediately taking them to the fish eye or Kangaroo testicle eating bush tucker trial.

Yet it is when you delve deeper into the ocean of washed up reality shows that you can see the unfortunate truth that it is a genre that has been exploited to the point of no return. Nationally commissioned shows such as Farmer Wants A Wife (2008), Boot Camp (2001) and The Littlest Groom (2004) have all graced our screens... and disappeared equally as swiftly as they arrived. I fear that whilst such shows won’t be remembered, they are all a contribution to the greater truth behind the Reality TV genre – that it is low brow, depleted and predominantly poor.

This is an admission that pains me to admit, as I more so than most am an avid follower of a large quantity of reality shows. But I feel it can’t be argued that the golden age of Reality TV has passed. Aside from Britain’s Got Talent, I can’t think of a single reality show that is held in the same esteem by a reality indulgent nation as it once was. Shows such as I’m a Celebrity and Big Brother are visual presentations of what I’m saying as truth. The past couple of series of I’m a Celebrity have been drab and average. Not since the Katie and Peter series has it been at its peak (a bold admission given my detestation of the pair).

An even starker showing is that of Big Brother. Once the flagship reality show, it was adored by millions and able to turn even the most irritating individual into an overnight superstar. It was even more than just a TV show; it was a culturally imprinted ideology. It was a reflection of all walks of life. As captivating as it was shocking, revelations within the house had direct effects on the social values of the real world. All from a little house in Elstree. Yet, much like reality genre itself, time soon caught up on Big Brother. Its ratings began to dwindle and it was announced last year that the forthcoming summer’s house will be the last - something that did not come as a shock to the viewing public given a sequence of sub-standard series.

However in a great show of almost defiance and in an attempt to show ‘yes we’re going, but we will be missed’; the series of Celebrity Big Brother just gone provided one last hoorah for in my opinion not just Big Brother, but also the Reality genre as a whole. It showed that when it gets it right, it is unbeatable TV. Vinnie Jones, Stephen Baldwin and Sisqo were just a few of the contestants that created the sceptical. Yet it was the eventual winner Alex Reid that encapsulated the central ideal of the past decade’s worth of Reality TV in his mere matter of weeks in the house. A thick, normal but harmless guy endeared himself to the public and in doing so placed himself in the Big Brother Hall of fame.

Unfortunately, it is clear to all that this was infact a one off last showing of a depleted genre. It is clear to all that the truly great reality shows of the past decade are reaching their sell by date. Sceptics will argue ‘well the X factor still does incredible’ – maybe so, but when Rage against the Machine beat the most watched show in the UK’s winner to the Christmas #1 spot you see the true scope of the X Factors current (and hollow) success.

Finally tonight’s prime time TV show... ‘So you think you can dance?’

Enjoyable? Maybe so.

Likely to live on in your memory come tomorrow morning? I very much doubt it...

So here’s to you reality TV, your stay on our screens has been a fun one, but in the words of a certain Davina McCall –

You have been evicted.

England captaincy one Bridge too far?

As England boss Fabio Capello prepares for emergency talks with England and Chelsea captain John Terry, I can gauge a nation on tenterhooks as to the outcome. Regardless of what is announced come Friday evening, there will be serious implications for the England football team, John Terry himself and perhaps equally as worrying, the extent to which sportsmen can push their luck and live their frivolous lifestyle.

With today’s meeting, we will learn alot about both John Terry’s moral integrity and the extent of Fabio Capello’s no tolerance regime. It has to be considered that Capello is a man who has been married to his childhood sweetheart for the past 40years. It also has to be considered that in his very first press conference, he said “no one player is untouchable”. Yet you have to wonder what speaks greater volumes; Capello’s morals, or his burning desire to win the World Cup.

As the story behind the affair has grown momentum it has almost ascertained the persona of a footballing trial. With Capello as the judge, Terry the offender, Bridge the victim and an entire nation making up the world’s largest hypothetical courtroom. However, with any old Tom, Dick or Harry ready to give his 2 cents worth (and rightly they should) – they should first ask themselves if they care more about Terry having it off with Wayne Bridge’s missus, or if they should let it be resigned to the privacy of closed doors and instead focus their energy’s supporting their nations build up to the most winnable World Cup since 66’.

Albeit, the incident itself is a terrible one, and any compassionate person will sympathise dearly with Wayne Bridge. But this is no ordinary affair, with no ordinary people and just on the brink of football’s elite competition. And so it is with that, that we can divide the two types of people who will read what’s been said;

1) Those people who look at the front of the newspaper first

2) Those people who head straight for the back pages

Those falling under the first category will undoubtedly take the moral high ground and say he should be stripped of his captaincy, wages and his man-hood. He should be taken in a group with himself, Tiger Woods and any other promiscuous male to have ever lived, and be condemned to a life of pain and suffering.

Yet it is not these people I now wish to appeal to.

The later of you, those who enjoy nothing more than the back pages headlines, with a strong cup of tea and a bit of Sky Sports News to start the day, will have a more subjective approach. We will understand Terry’s wrongdoings, but would concede not just him retaining the armband, but also our right leg, in order to finally win the world cup. We realise that the continued condemnation of his actions will only harm our World Cup hopes. We understand regardless of his footballing ability, that this is a man who is straight out of the Stuart Pearce factory of hard nuts. This is a man who would walk through the Terry Butcher blooded head-bandage every game if it meant victory. This is a man who’s first (and now only) priority is rectifying himself to all with his performances on the field.

Can you honestly say with 4months to go, that Stevie Gerrard, Wayne Rooney or Rio Ferdinand could step up to the plate in time to lead us to victory? I’d be very dubious...

As Ian Wright said earlier in the week, you can slate a person/teammate as much as you want off the field, but when you cross the white line, victory is the one and only objective. And if that means being led by someone you don’t like, or relying on him to do his job on the field, then that’s the way it has to be. And it is on this basis, that I hold the supreme hope (and belief) that today, for the first time, Mr.Capello will roll up his sleeves, bite his moral tongue and tell Terry that he is going to lead us to World Cup glory.

Because, you can bet your life, captain or otherwise, a 90th minute World Cup Final winning goal from John Terry come July 11th and all will be forgiven...

Side-note: Quote of the day by an absolute mile: Portsmouth Boss and ‘exotic massage’ enthusiast Avram Grant’s wife saying – “My man needs his massage. He works so hard each day that he deserves his massage from two women, not one.”

How JT wishes his wife was so understanding...

Oh Katie Price..

On this, blog number one, it almost seems fitting that I get to immediately express my distain for Glamour model Katie Price aka Jordan.

If we exclude her list of previous suitors (including Dwight Yorke, Dane Bowers and Gareth Gates to name a few) and her love of living a life that I can only describe as a concoction of Kerry Katona and Paris Hilton’s finest traits, I am still able to condemn her on a nearly unparalleled number of fronts. This is the woman who over the past decade has been on countless reality TV shows, went for the 2005 British Eurovision entry and even ran as a candidate in the 2001 Stretford and Urmston election under the slogan ‘For a bigger and betta future’ (‘betta’ not being a typo) with her main canditory promise being free boob jobs for all – a 1.8% of the vote followed...a record high for her popularity in my books.

Yet it is not even with this realm of profile enhancing moves that infuriate me the most about Katie. It is her reluctance to realise the immoral extent of her actions. Not only does she dive head first into anything that may lead to her face being on the front of the papers, but she does so with no account for the consequences. She is a selfish and wealth driven excuse for a woman, and whilst this may seem a harsh account of my views, I say we review the following three case studies before discrediting my thoughts.

Case study 1 (and a relatively brief one) – ‘The Wag period’.

Dwight Yorke. Man United footballer and at the peak of his playing career. A brief fling with Jordan, a football career on the drop and a child to boot... Dwight soon did a runner. (Unsurprisingly as Katie expressed her wish to broadcast the birth over the internet – a plea that was soon dropped at the threat of legal actions; or ‘personal wishes’ as Price later stated.)

Case study 2 – ‘I used to be a celebrity, Get me back on the TV’

Prime time ITV, a washed up hunky solo singer and a glamour model – it was almost meant to be? As the nation watched attentively, the two soon hooked up and later married. Their profiles soon grew and were even dubbed ‘The working persons Posh and Becks’. In true Pricey style, not one to miss out on a cash opportunity, the two soon had a well publicised ITV2 show that followed the lives of the pair as they tackled married life. All hunky dory you may think? Oh how wrong you’d be...

Two children and three years later, the most publicised and drawn out divorce of the decade took place. With the media drumming up a ‘Team Katie or Team Pete’ not a day went by without a new (and completely trivial) revelation popping up. Credit to Peter, whilst not one to shy away from an undignified money making opportunity himself, he stayed strong and was only complimentary about the ordeal – Katie was not. TV, Twitter or the papers, you could not help but see her slander Peter. Whilst she vigorously denied all allegations of wrongdoing, her track record and a number of extremely dubious photos do suggest she’s not quite the angel certain sections of the public might think.

A divorce soon followed, with Pete becoming well loved and Katie deservedly dropping back into Z-list obscurity.

Case study 3 – ‘It’s ok, we get to share each others clothes’

The main reason this blog is written. Alex Reid. Roxanne. Rocky. The Reidinator.

Katie’s latest conquest, a mixed martial arts, cross dressing, dim-wit from absolute obscurity, little over a month after the Andre divorce. Despite being almost crucified by the media for his cross dressing, Reid stayed by Katie’s side, even flying out to Australia to propose live on I’m a celebrity get me out of here (A move that was swiftly knocked on the head after Katie’s dismissal of marriage live on TV). Even still, Reid stuck by her side.

However, in an unexpected turn of events Alex Reid’s recent appearance on Celebrity Big Brother proved not only to be a move straight out of Pricey’s ‘How to grab some extra cash’ guidebook – but also turned out to be a masterstroke. Sent in to have a tear up with Katie’s ex Dane Bowers and British Icon Vinnie Jones, it seemed an almost dead cert he would be provoked into sticking the nail in his already near shut coffin. However, an adored unintelligence not seen since Jade Goody saw Reid win over all who watched him. Described by Vinnie Jones as ‘a loveable prat’ – Reid grabbed the nation’s heart and won arguably the best CBB in years.

Tragically, Reid has now gone and un-done all his hard work. A little under a week after leaving the CBB house, Price and Reid yesterday flew out to Las Vegas and got married. If newspaper reports are to be believe they then spent the hours after the ceremony in a $1000 per hour strip club. A club where Katie would feel equally at home on the stage, as she would do a paying customer.

It would seem Price saw the latest in the long line of opportunities to cash in on not only hers, but her boy-toys newly found fame. I can only wish Alex Reid the best of luck and hope that when Katie eventually moves on, he is able to actually have enough of a profile left to have a decent crack at whatever he wishes to do.


As for Mrs Price-Andre-Reid-Terry-Woods (I can only speculate on the last few, but would you bet against me?) – I/we can only watch on with mutual contempt in the hope that she (like many before her) eventually cocks it up enough that she sorts herself out.

Side-note: As The Sun points out today: ‘Alex Reid’s middle name is Aristides. The first Aristides was a Greek Statesman from the fifth century BC dubbed The Just. He despised Gold-Diggers and thought everyone should serve without wanting money or glory.’
Irony at its absolute best.