REALITY VOYEUR TELEVISION

 

WHERE VOYEURISM MEETS EXHIBITIONISM

 

From: The News & Record (Piedmont Triad, NC)  | Date: May 28, 2000  | More results for: "voyeur" + "web cam"
 
Unless I'm tempted by an opportunity to watch paint dry, I might actually sit down in front of the television Wednesday night for the premiere of something called "Survivors." Generally, TV is a last resort with me, not because I'm an intellectual snob but because I have a low threshold of boredom. Lately, there hasn't been much on that can keep my interest.

I don't expect "Survivors" to be an exception, but the description is just wacky enough to pique my curiosity. A group of carefully selected "contestants" were plopped down on a deserted Malaysian island "to see what kind of TV would result: who would mate and who would fight."

According to the executive producer, Mark Burnett, "Within minutes, people were having the sort of arguments you'd never see in a restaurant with 25 people watching, let alone millions. They either forgot the cameras were rolling or they didn't care."

Burnett was apparently bragging about what a great success his experiment in "reality voyeur television" turned out to be. If you enjoy hearing the people at the next table reveal more than you wanted to know about what used to be called their "private lives," then I guess you'll enjoy "Survivors."

Actually, the program is just a warm-up for the main attraction, which comes in July. It's the breathlessly anticipated U.S. version of the Dutch smash hit, "Big Brother." And it goes like this:

Ten carefully screened strangers will move into a specially built voyeur house, where their every move and sound will be recorded by 28 cameras and 60 microphones. They will have brought one suitcase of clothes and one smaller pack of books or other possessions for three months. No communication with the outside world is allowed. A disembodied voice - Big Brother - will rule through a network of speakers.

Dramatic tension is introduced by a process of elimination. Every two weeks, viewers will be polled to decide which housemate should be ejected. Anyone else may leave at any time, but there's no return. The lone survivor at the end gets a prize of $500,000. Contestants are left to guess what sort of behavior might win them points with the voyeurs - pardon me, the viewers. My guess is that it won't be efficient housekeeping, reading, intelligent conversation or prayer.

We're assured that in Big Brother's house there is no sanctuary from the camera's inquiring voyeur eye - not the bedroom, not the bathroom, nada.

Voyeurism meets exhibitionism. The most perfect match since sadism and masochism. But of course the half-million introduces a delicious element of ambiguity as to intentions; a pure exhibitionist wouldn't care about the money. These folks presumably will be struggling to decide how much dignity they are willing to give up for money.

"Big Brother" is not the first of the genre. The MTV production called "The Real World" apparently has that honor. There is even a sort of analog in such sitcoms as "Seinfeld" and "Friends" in that both involve an ensemble of characters whose lives consist of nothing but meaningless repartee.

Then there is the world of the voyeur Web cam, in which individual entrepreneurs hook a simple digital camera to their voyeur Web site and invite the world into their homes. According to one estimate, as many as 10,000 of them around the world stay on all the time (24-7 in e-talk).

Unlike the World Wide Web, television requires some editing, so reality is tempered by someone's judgment of what should or shouldn't be included in each broadcast hour. That's no assurance of dramatic quality, unfortunately. We know this from watching ordinary prime time TV with scripts. But editing may at least eliminate some of the tedium.

PBS, predictably, is going to make its own bold venture into reality TV by recycling yet another warmed-over BBC series.

For those who crave their tedium uncut, "Big Brother," like its Dutch forebear, will have a Web counterpart. You'll be able to tune in to the Big Brother house anytime, 24-7. If you can't sleep, you can just crank up the PC and watch other people sleep.

I don't expect to spend much time with "Big Brother," thanks to the aforementioned low threshold of boredom. When I do get engaged by TV it tends to be with a well-made documentary, an unusually compelling sports event or an old-fashioned drama.

Drama, like good fiction, is reality reconstructed by the artist. It is the difference between a sack of flour and a croissant. It is the difference between the repetitious police-chase videos on cable TV and the chase scene in, say, "The French Connection."

Somewhat to my surprise, I've just finished a book called "Lighthouse," which is based on oral histories taken from British lighthouse keepers. It's a book that teeters on the brink of tedium for most of 300 pages. You keep thinking, "This is about all I need to know about these sedentary souls and their prosaic lives," but then something in the artful editing of the author draws you back. The line between art and stenography has never been more tantalizingly close.

We can speculate endlessly about the exhibitionist half of the reality equation. It's a social phenomenon that crops up in many different ways these days. At one extreme you have the on-air confessionals conducted by Oprah and her imitators, but I also include the bozos who conduct cell phone calls in public places, inflicting their private business on the rest of us.

What I find more mystifying is the voyeur part of the equation. When people park themselves in front of a show like "Big Brother," what are they waiting for? Why can't they think of anything more interesting to do? Heck, there's always something around the house that needs painting.