PWR2 Spring Webby Winner: Curb Your Enthusiasm: Reality/Fiction Mashup

Curb Your Enthusiasm has, since its debut, intertwined reality and fiction in a strange whorl. The show is written by, directed by, produced by, and stars Larry David as himself – he envelopes the show, sandwiching it on both sides: production and acting. The show is highly improvised. David usually writes about seven pages of material, which provides a plot outline, but the dialogue is left unscripted. Larry David characterizes his portrayal as a fictionalized version of himself, but a version without the appropriate social reservations that the real-David has. He is the co-creator of Seinfeld in real-life as well as on the show. The character of his wife is based on his real wife. The plot of the show, in which they are divorced at the end of season six, even mirrors David’s real-life divorce. Perhaps the greatest difference between real-David and show-David is that show-David is not producing, writing, and starring in a show about himself – and this is probably a good thing lest the audience be trapped in an even stranger recursive reality: show within show within show ad infinitum.

Previously, Curb has depicted David as acting, as in season three where David is cast in a Martin Scorsese film (Scorsese, of course, played himself on the show). Season four is even stranger. Mel Brooks (playing himself) casts David as Max Bialystock in a Broadway run of The Producers. Staying true to the theme of warped reality, it turns out that Brooks is carrying out the same plot as Bialystock does in the play. Humor me: David casts Brooks in Curb who casts David in The Producers as Bialystock but it turns out that Brooks is the ‘real’ Bialystock (in the show’s reality), and strangely, David must have cast him this way to begin with. From a bird’s eye view of the season, it looks like Brooks casted David as Bialystock and the other way around. Certainly part of David’s humor can only be fully appreciated by considering the production of the show itself. The full picture of Curb includes reality.

Season seven is currently in production and slated for premiere in fall 2009, and if rumors are to be believed, we are in for a far more interesting interplay of reality and fiction than we have seen yet. So far, all the projects in the show, including the Scorsese film and The Producers have been fictional. Recently, Larry David starred in Woody Allen’s latest film, Whatever Works, which premiered in April and will start limited screenings in June. It has been speculated (and let me emphasize that this is only speculation) that Woody Allen may appear as a guest in the upcoming season of Curb, as himself, directing Whatever Works. If this were the case, then the show would be like a documentary of the production of Whatever Works. One begins to wonder what exactly “fictionalized” means.

In this scenario, there may be a two-way influence between the reality of the show and reality itself: a show about the production of a movie whose production was intended from the start to be the content of the show. This seems a natural progression in David’s ongoing experiment, but perhaps an unlikely one given that season seven is confirmed to have the entire cast of Seinfeld appearing in a multi-episode subplot (the first time all will appear together since Seinfeld’s end). It is hard to imagine that there is enough time in one season for the cast of Seinfeld and Allen. Also, reference to this rumor has been edited out of the Curb Wikipedia page where it appeared for most of the 2008 summer. The originating site, tvbuddy.com, seems to have eradicated it as well.

Whether these rumors pan out, Curb will continue to involve reality in creative ways somewhere in the nebulous area between documentary, mockumentary, and sitcom. The show has affected reality before. In 2003, Juan Catalan, suspected of premeditated murder, was cleared of all charges when cut-out footage of the “Carpool Lane” episode in season four proved that he and his daughter were attending a Dodgers game 20 miles away from the crime scene. This effect was unintentional of course, but quite suitable to the show’s spirit. We should, however, expect to see David intentionally involving reality in his comedic concoction in stranger ways still.

Clayton Mellina

Runner-up: Too Good to be True? - A Look into an Episode of My Super Sweet 16

My Super Sweet 16 first premiered on MTV in January of 2005, long before terms like “financial crisis” and “global economic meltdown” entered the average American’s vocabulary. In each episode of the show, MTV’s cameras follow around a real, soon-to-be 16-year-old and document the planning that goes into their sixteenth birthday party. These are no normal teenagers, however; MTV has tracked down the most outrageously spoiled adolescents possible for our viewing pleasure. The extreme level of indulgence displayed on the show makes viewers question whether or not My Super Sweet 16 is reality TV or complete fiction, however; no 16-year-old purchases $300,000 in jewelry for her birthday party, right?

Wrong. Savannah, the star of the episode I watched for this review, receives diamond bracelets, necklaces, and earrings worth this hefty amount before hopping in the enormous limousine that transports her and a cadre of friends to her party. This is just the tip of the iceberg. The designer dresses, entertainment (in the form of exotic animals and an oxygen bar), and trendy club she gets for her party certainly aren’t free. Neither is the shiny new BMW convertible she receives as a gift at the episode’s conclusion. It is nearly impossible to make an estimate as to the total amount of cash Savannah’s family spends over the course of the whole episode, but it is somewhere in the range of a million dollars. Not too shabby for a birthday party, eh?

This extravagant display of wealth is one of the episode’s two main attractions, the other being Savannah’s competition with her mom to see who can hold the cameras’ attention the longest. Mother and daughter fight over who gets to buy the most jewelry, who gets to wear the most extravagant dress, and even who gets to look the “hottest” at the party. This bickering seems ridiculous to almost any viewer, but reminds us that even the super rich aren’t perfect.

Although My Super Sweet 16 remains in MTV’s rotation of reality TV programming, the show is something of an anachronism given the present state of our global economy. Each episode is designed to flatter wealth by the standards set before the recession, so Savannah’s party seems even more over-the-top now. The show’s entertainment value wasn’t particularly high when it first aired a couple of years ago (Savannah’s princess-like sense of entitlement gets old fast), but if anything, it is evidence that the times are changing. One can only wonder what Savannah and the rest of her family’s thoughts are on the episode today.

Owen Boochever

Meet the PWR Webby Judges

Wendy

Wendy is a freelance writer, teacher, and triathlete who lives outside Boulder, CO. She has an MFA from St. Andrew's University, Scotland. She has published in Cooking Light, Trail Runner, Natural Solutions, and Atlanta Magazine. She has decided not to audition for The Amazing Race, although she avidly follows British and American reality tv, including American Idol and Britain's Got Talent.





Kevin

An L.A.-based blogger and former English teacher, Kevin was a writer for planetsocks.com, one of the first and most influential reality television sites. As a media studies major, Kevin wrote his honors thesis on reality television and celebrity. He once spit on Julie from Real World New Orleans

Kim

A Bay Area writing teacher and Stanford alumnus, Kim is an avid reality television watcher with insider knowledge--two of her family members work in the reality television industry. Her yearbook is signed by Melissa of Real World New Orleans. You may recognize her from the front row of The Price is Right.


Mark

Mark is completing a Ph.D. in English, specializing in urban space and 20th century literature. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture. In fact, he scored over 100% on Entertainment Weekly's pop culture quiz (about 60% higher than Joel Stein, EW's columnist). Richard Blais of Top Chef follows him on twitter.

American Cry-dol

The 2009 season of American Idol has come to a close, and I am not surprised in the least by the outcome. Well, let me clarify. I am surprised that Kris Allen, a 23 year-old, boy-next-door contestant from Little Rock, Arkansas was able to beat out contestant Adam Lambert, the clear dominator of every vocal contest this season. Lambert's range is unbelievable and his versatility incredible, but, as has happened over and over, the world was shocked by the announcement of the 2009 American Idol champion. So yes, I was surprised by the result because I understandably always expect the contestant with the best vocal ability to win. But no, in hindsight, I am not the least bit surprised because year after year I have been disappointed by the way America has voted throughout the American Idol season. 

2003. Clay Aiken loses to Ruben Studdard in the season finale. 2004. Ruben Studdard releases his failure of a song "Sorry 2004." Where is he now? No one knows. On the other hand, Clay Aiken makes the news all the time. I hear he just got a new haircut!

2006. Taylor Hicks wins it all. The audience is shocked when Chris Daughtry does not even make it to the final four. Hicks is even less famous than Studdard. It is unclear whether or not he actually produced an album (He did- it was just that forgettable). In contrast, I can think of 3 songs off the top of my head that Daughtry has released in the past two years that have been huge hits. America loves him!

I think you get the picture. More often than not, the talented are kicked off and the not-so talented take home the record label. And this is what makes American Idol such a popular show. America is thrilled by the unexpected, and we thrive off of shock value. And we are shocked even despite the fact that we are also the ones voting. But consider this: more Americans voted in the final race between Taylor Hicks and Katherine McPhee in the 2006 Season of American Idol than voted in the 2004 presidential election. So many Americans choose to participate in American Idol that we have no concept of how much our vote matters or which contestant is actually the most popular in the public eye. So we are often unpleasantly surprised when the votes are finally announced.

That is not to say, however, that we are not entertained by both contestants' performances and judges' critiques. The individual personalities of both the contestants and the judges on the show provide us with plenty of reason to watch. When Simon Cowell dishes out a praise, we cling onto it for days, knowing they are few and far between. And when Paula Abdul stands up to dance to a good performance, we know to dismiss it fairly quickly because she will do that for almost anyone if she is in the right mood. But while these attributes of the show might help us become American Idol junkies, they are not what bring us back week after week, season after season. 

What brings us back is our emotional investment. Who will we root for this next season and who will we secretly hope gets kicked off the show even though our friends are all hoping otherwise? Who has the right balance of a good voice and good looks to really pull through? These are all questions we ask ourselves as we enter a new season, and, despite our best efforts to answer the questions and predict the winner, we will inevitably be disappointed in one way or another. American Idol capitalizes on our emotional investment, and would be nothing more than just another short-lived game show without the guarantee that we will become personally wrapped up in the fates of the contestants. I am not ashamed to say that I cried when Chris Daughtry was voted off the show because I know three other people who cried when Taylor Hicks won. Honestly, for the level of emotional involvement that the show provokes, it might as well be called American Cry-dol. After all, it could be called any name under the sun and we all would still love it. And as long as most of us continue to be surprised by the outcomes, nothing will ever change that.

The Real Desperate Housewives of New Jersey

Bravo is known for producing some of the most quality reality programs that television has to offer. Its new series “The Real Housewives of New Jersey” is not one of them. The show is one of the many spin offs of the company’s popular series, “The Real Housewives of Orange County”, and accomplishes the difficult task of being even more vapid and over-dramatized than the original. Within the first minute of the season premiere, the women are shown in the midst of a full-fledged screaming match, and within a minute and a half one housewife has already called another a “prostitution whore”. Before the opening credits even begin to roll, one cannot help but think this show would be better suited for a major network or even Oxygen, rather than the same company known for Project Runway and Top Chef.

The show does little to deviate from the Orange County original- however now the same vacant stares of the women’s botox-injected faces are framed by dark over-processed hair opposed to the peroxide treated locks of their California counterparts. They have simply taken the shallow, gold digging antics of the rich housewife and added thick jersey accents for an “exotic” touch. The Juicy Couture sweatsuits of the OC housewives have been replaced by Victoria’s Secret PINK brand sweatpants, and while the children of the West Coast Housewives are attending schools such as Berkeley and on their way to entering the MLB, on the East Coast they are working for their parents’ businesses and trying to raise money to open a strip club. It is the New Jersey, Italian-American stereotype at its finest, and through its portrayal of these women seems to make the claim that money does not buy class. At the end of the episode, clips for upcoming events of the season show the women spending thoughtlessly, yelling brazenly, gossiping incessantly and fighting cattily. I for one will avoid watching diligently.

Amelia Herrera

Battle Royale--What is Reality TV Came to This?

A friend of mine recently sent a movie to me - a Japanese film from the early 2000s called Battle Royale. Once I found the subtitles feature I decided to give it a try, and as the minutes unfolded, I could believe my eyes less and less. The movie is representative of a trend towards increased extremeness in Asian cinema, and the nature of the plot - an elimination challenge - is highly similar in many ways to reality TV that was emerging at the time.

The movie itself is difficult to take seriously, mostly because of the absurd premise that directors barely even attempt to rationalize. In the new millennium, the corrupt government, attempting to crack down on the increasingly disruptive youth, passes a law that requires one selected junior high class of fifteen year olds to be taken to an island and enter a “Battle Royale.“ 41 children, armed with maps, food, and one random weapon, must fight to the death until one remains. If no winner emerges after three days, the collars placed on everyone’s neck explode, killing them. Ready? Go.

Battle Royale is simply an exploration of how these children choose to play the game. Some hide, some kill themselves in protest, some work together, and some choose to be assassins. Strategies and alliances play out in a way not so different from Real World/Road Rules challenges, and no one can be trusted. After every death scene, the movie displays updates on recent eliminations and how many remain. The game is compelling in and of itself, but watching teenagers slit each other’s throats and jump off cliffs adds, well, shock factor too. This bloodbath of innocents is obviously not meant for the squeamish, or for the Japanese government, but someone digs it - at the Japanese Academy Awards, the film was nominated for best picture in 2001.

Battle Royale can’t really be considered a reality program, but it is really is just the most extreme version of the reality formula. And despite the ridiculousness of the basic premise, the vapidity of the ending, or the convoluted and unnecessary flashback sequences, the movie is largely successful just based on the elimination structure and shocking content. I hesitate to call it a logical next step in the realm of shows like Fear Factor or MXC, but it does seem to evoke some of the same thoughts - “what would I do if I were in that game?” or “how much of my humanity would I give up for the prize?” (in this case, not dying.) Still, America probably isn’t ready for this movie; distribution issues were further complicated by Virginia Tech and most of us don’t really take kindly to watching children die.

Either way, despite the shortcomings, I personally found myself thoroughly captivated while watching Battle Royale, and if you think you can stomach it, it’s worth most of the two hours.

Reuben Moss

New York, If Only You Could Hear Us.

A review of New York's latest, by Brooke Smith. 

Tiffany Polard, better known as, New York has made a career out of reality TV. Her newest, and possibly most infuriating show is titled “New York Goes to Work,” a show in which viewers at home pick odd jobs for New York to complete. Jobs include such grueling and difficult tasks as being a gardener, a cafeteria worker or a receptionist. 

Does anyone else find something troubling about a television show in which ordinary everyday jobs, we otherwise wouldn’t care less about, are made entertaining just because New York is doing them? It seems to me that the show’s producers are making a mockery out of hard working people by throwing New York into their environments for a single day and then making a TV show around it. Even more offensive is how much money New York gets for doing one satisfactory day on the job. New York receives $10,000 if she completes her basic tasks.

 For example, in one episode she had to work at a nudist colony. What was asked of her was beyond simple. Instead of cleaning the rooms and checking in guests, New York focused on how unattractive the naked bodies around her were and refused to make the bed out of laziness. In fact, she often complains of broken nails and unflattering uniforms but somehow manages to get the $10,000 check from some of her employers(this is usually a byproduct of her overexposed cleavage).  In an economy where unemployment rates are higher than ever, people are getting laid off every week and college graduates from top schools are having difficulty getting jobs.  Tiffany Polard, with a high school education and no skill set, can get $10,000 in a single day.

At the beginning of each show New York addresses her audience as “America” and I suppose she feels justified in doing this since audience members text to choose her next job, but in reality New York—you are not the President so please don’t refer to your television audience as America. If America could respond back to you we would all give you a resounding: shut up!  

Capturing College Life

If I had a dime for everyone I’ve met in college who’s told me that they thought their dorm would make a decent reality television show, I’d have – well, about a dollar twenty, but that’s considerable given the fact that I most of my conversations are not, surprisingly enough, about reality television. And I’d have to agree with this statement – I live with some amazing, odd and interesting people and, knowing them the way I do from living with them, I would probably watch their antics on TV.

Then I saw the premier of MTV’s new show College Life.



I was about ten minutes into the show when the realization struck me -- I was wasting my life watching it.

These people are nothing like the people I live with. From the second the camera starts rolling they are flat and easy to define – we have the drunk jock who can’t focus on academics, we have a mixed race boy who seems to define himself entirely in terms of ethnicity, we have a girl who still hangs out with a possessive ex regularly, and another who has – well guy drama of some sort or other. They’re all decently attractive, of course, and know how to whine with the best of them. Ultimately, they made me a bit ashamed that this was the impression viewers would get of college life. Where was the depth? Where was the passion (for things besides beer and sex, at least)? Where were the friendships or the odd antics or the random conversations about which breakfast food you would most like to wear, if you had to wear one? (The answer, by the way, is sliced bread).

Of course, I’m sure (read: I hope) that, in person, these people have more going for them. Being on reality television, however, seems to flattens them. Compare this with another show – or rather, a web feature, called Dorm Life, a "mockumentary" following one floor of a dorm at an undisclosed college (watch it at dorm-life.com). In other words Dorm Life is College Life... except scripted and considerably better. Where College Life boasts, “This isn’t ‘reality.’ This is real”, Dorm Life runs with the tagline “This isn’t real life. This is dorm life.”

The funny thing is, Dorm Life seems infinitely more compelling and real than College Life. Dorm Life provides some truly ridiculous characters as well but, as satire, is able to tap into something much more relatable through this comedy. College Life cannot say the same. It seems odd that something scripted can seem more “real” than something that claims to be real, yet the nature of reality televisions seems to be necessarily removing and redefining its participants. Fiction, however, just tries to be good – the rest falls into place.

Toddlers & Tiaras doesn't take the crown

Toddlers & Tiaras on TLC explores the world of children beauty pageants by following contestants and their parents as they prepare for competition as well as documenting the competition itself. In the first episode, we are introduced to three different families as they gear up for the upcoming Universal Royalty Pageant, which also has a category for mothers to compete in. The first two families introduced are the Alley family and the Jones family. Both focused on mother-daughter relationships. The Perez family differed from the first two in that the main parental involvement came from the father, David Perez. Another difference is the age of his daughter Ava, who is two, whereas the other featured girls are six (Rebecca Alley) and nine (Meaghan Jones). Surprisingly, this mattered very little because the show derived most of its drama and action from the parents while the kids are relatively boring. The parents themselves don’t vary much in demeanor. Stacey Alley stated, “Some people might say well you’re obsessed with pageants. Obsessed? Maybe.” This pretty much described the other parents, who are cheerfully obsessed with their children’s pageantry. They’re overbearing but not suffocating, probably due to the fact that their kids somewhat enjoy and mostly comply with their demands. This lack of variety was disappointing-- one family pretty much told the story of the others.

The actually competition itself wasn’t too interesting. There’s a reason the Miss America pageant has been declining in ratings in recent years; there’s just not enough entertainment value by today standards in modeling casual wear, evening wear, and swimsuits. This can be seen anytime on the Home Shopping Network. There is the talent portion, however. Unfortunately young children are not very talented, especially the 2-3 age group. Beyond running around on stage and playing with a baton, there isn’t much a two-year old can do. Ava was no different, though she did do a “back-flip” with the assistance of her dad, who was shocked when this didn’t get her a title. The older groups weren’t much better, with both Rebecca and Meaghan doing dance routines. The mother’s portion of the pageant went by uneventfully, with the moms realizing that their kids are even more amazing than originally thought. The only real drama on the show was the Jones family arriving late. One of the judges stated, “We’re waiting on Meaghan, and it is an unusual situation and judging someone who’s late, it can be a detriment.” Apparently, it wasn’t too much of a detriment, because Meaghan ended up winning the highest title in the contest. The ending of the pageant was not as exciting as anticipated. There was no real drama from not getting the grand prize, since there are pity trophies and more pageants to be had in the future. Also, Meaghan’s big win wasn’t all that great as she almost expected it. Overall, Toddles & Tiaras lacked excitement, and the parents’ enthusiasm just wasn’t enough to give it life.

Kimberly Kreitinger

Taking the Stage

Alyssa Tamayo

"This isn't 'reality'...this is real"

Lately, MTV has been scrambling to find new shows to shove into its primetime slots. With The Hills in its last season (or so they say…) and The City getting not-so-good viewership, producers have been announcing major additions to the channel’s lineup, including College Life, a low-budget reality show that chronicles the lives of a handful of University of Wisconsin—Madison freshmen.



College Life is completely self-produced by the participants. Each student is given a $500 camera (provided by MTV) and is instructed to film any and everything that they think might make good television. Needless to say, the quality of production is subpar at best. With out of focus shots, missing pivotal moments, and less-than-entertaining dialogue, it’s easy to see that reality television is scripted for a reason.

MTV does do a pretty good job of getting a diverse group of relatable students to shoot, though. Here are a few of the most interesting characters:

Andrea: Born in Wisconsin, she’s a devout Christian committed to saving herself for marriage even in the midst of her many boyfriends—one of whom is JJ, a big beefy athlete. Her high-school ex-sweetheart, Josh, also attends the school, and they hang out. A lot. Way more than exes should. Conveniently, Josh is also a virgin. This week, Andrea “breaks up” with Josh “for good.” Prediction: a Lauren Conrad-Stephen Colletti-Kristin Cavallari-type love triangle, except this time the girl’s the player.

Jordan: This half Jamaican, half Canadian freshman grew up in the conservative town of Wheaton, Illinois. And he never lets you forget it. Lately, he’s been having some issues dealing with his family life. He got a $2400 tattoo (a little excessive, don’t you think?) across his arm instead of paying his mom back for tuition, so, naturally, she cuts him off. Prediction: he gets a job, and he has a hard time making friends because of his mixed heritage and unique situation. No one could possibly understand.

Kevin: College would be incomplete without your regular beer-bellied party animal. From Minnesota, Kevin is that guy you know down the hall that won’t stop blasting music and playing beer pong even though it’s 1 A.M. the night before finals. He likes filming himself drinking, especially if he happens to be chugging Natty Ice and making a fool of himself. He’s been having some trouble with school and has gotten written up three times for alcohol violations. This week, he was officially kicked out of housing. Prediction: a bachelor pad for Kev with a built-in beer pong table and more of the same old, because watching drunk college students is way more entertaining than watching them study.

Even though the plots are boring and the camerawork is hard to follow, MTV deserves some credit for backing off and allowing kids to recreate themselves through this show. It will be interesting to see where these kids take their stories. Although UW-Madison doesn’t endorse the show, the tagline “this isn’t ‘reality’…this is real” seems to hold true, and their struggles, conversations, and attitudes hit home. And after all, MTV doesn't care whether you love it or hate the show, only whether or not you're watching it.