The Worst of Reality TV Manipulation

Reality TV is all about editing. I think any reasonable person knows that. These editors (really writers, but that's a whole other can of worms) can take a situation where 10 people get along like they've been best friends forever and make it seem like everyone hates everyone else. They can make someone with a dry sense of humor look like the nastiest human being on the face of the earth, or make a kind considerate person seem like they just stepped off the short bus on the way to their seventh year of high school.

I was hesitant to watch America's Best Dance Crew last night because the challenge was to incorporate traditional styles of Indian dance, wherein a misplaced eyebrow can change the entire meaning of a routine, into hip hop routines. While I wasn't thrilled with the results I saw, that wasn't the problem last night.

The problem last night was an editing package about the crew Vogue Evolution that seems to indicate MTV is done allowing a crew comprised of five out members of the LGBT community to appear on their airwaves.

It was clear when a voguing crew was cast on the show MTV had no intention of letting them win. They were mostly a gimmick to add diversity (like the "Hick-Hop" crew or the DC Go-Go/House crew) to a program that hit a bit of hot water last year when judge Shane Sparks shouted "No homo" before complimenting the sexiness of an all male crew. What MTV did not anticipate was that Vogue Evolution would be a popular crew on the show. Even if they weren't the cleanest crew or the most inventive, they knew how to put on a show and they received enough votes each week to not be in the bottom 2, meaning they couldn't be eliminated .

Here is the editing package from last night's episode:

Problem 1: Why is drama from last week, that could have been edited into last week's clips(it's not broadcast live), being used against them this week? The clips shown of her making comments like "Y'all bitches ready?" or "My arm hurts" don't seem to indicate this massive diva attitude, especially coming from the Ball world.

Problem 2: Lil Mama. I normally love her as a judge. This week she absolutely crossed the line:

  • A) She said Leiomy, a transgendered woman, was born a man and becoming a woman and therefore needs to act like a lady. I wasn't aware that Lil Mama was BFF with Leiomy and knew exactly how Leiomy felt about her gender even as a young child. To call her a man becoming a woman insensitive in the most positive light I can provide.
  • B) Both JC and Shane made it clear that regardless of what happened backstage, Leiomy performed like a pro on stage. Yes, she walked out of a rehearsal last week (we'll get to that), but she came and performed this week. Lil Mama acted like she walked out 30 minutes before the show this week and needed to be punished this week.
  • C) The incoherent rant about not being the face of transgendered but being the face of America seemed a bit off, and not just because Lil Mama didn't actually say anything.

Problem 3: Dear MTV,

Please don't lie to America. It might have been important to mention a few details about what went down last week and why VE, not just Leiomy, were in a bad mood.

You clearly want the crew off the show, otherwise this would have easily been edited to show the dedication of VE in continuing on the show after losing one of their close friends, and Leiomy's mentor. Alloura Jordan, who helped get Leiomy into the Ball scene, passed away (highlight the black text, it explains everything) either the day before or the day of the filming of the performance episode. Rumors obviously spread very quickly, though it's not hard to believe that MTV intentionally did not divulge the information. The biggest rumor that does not shock in me in reality TV land: MTV wouldn't let VE fly out for the funeral because they simply had to film their package receiving the challenge that day. There's even speculation that the focus on floor work in the beginning of the routine was a direct tribute to Alloura Jordan's style, though there was nothing edited into the package to indicate that.

Judging by the critiques of Shane and JC (more in line with this: Some days you don't want to perform, and as a group, you get through it, and you did exactly what you were supposed to do today. It wasn't your best performance, but you did what you had to. Good job), they knew exactly what happened. And for some reason, MTV doesn't want America to know. And MTV wants VE to go home. They did this before with a crew that threw a member out for breaking the rules and acted like the leader of the crew was an outrageous diva; they were eliminated by the judges that episode.

This is the opposite extreme of American Idol allowing one of their finalists to constantly play the "my wife died" card to get votes, and neither is ideal. It's, simple put, reality TV manipulation.

Death is a part of life, and reality TV producers still don't know how to handle it in a responsible way.

For example, did you know that in Cycle 10 of America's Next Top Model, the contestant who quit the show during the first judging panel and was treated like a criminal for doing so by Tyra Banks only quit because someone close to her died right before they started filming? That she only quit because that was the way Tyra suggest she leave the competition? And that the episode intentionally did not mention anything to indicate that the girl had a legitimate reason for leaving the competition?

Or how Top Model conveniently does a photo shoot connected to death or murder whenever a contestant finds out a friend or family member died during the filming of the show? How sensitive to drop someone in an open casket into a funeral plot for a photo shoot after her best friend died. Or what about that other contestant who learned her best friend died of a drug overdose and the very next photo shoot had her simulating death by poisoning? Classy.

And let's not even get into what happens in the real world after the show has finished filming.

Reality TV is all about editing, and somehow, the producers and editors have developed the belief that showing us the truth isn't good enough, especially when the manipulation can get the results they want.

Reality TV Worth Watching

I need some fluffy goodness to combat the forthcoming “Reality TV is the DEVIL!” arguments about to start any day thanks to VH1/51 Minds’ low-casting standards*.

Here are the shows actually worth watching, in no particular order.

Chefs vs. City: It’s The Amazing Race for the foodie crowd. Chefs Aaron Sanchez and Chris Cosentino travel across the country competing against “local foodies” in a series of food-related challenges. One task, for example, involved hauling six bushels of apples to an old-fashioned hand press, crushing the apples with a hammer, then pressing a half gallon of juice by hand. It’s easily one of the more interesting shows on the Food Network in years, and far greater than The Great American Road Trip.

P. Diddy’s Starmaker: Look everyone! Rockstar is back! Wait…no. It’s not. But Diddy sure does know how to squeeze out drama so he has no problem lifting and slightly altering the format (everyone performs, then just girls, then just guys) down to a song picking board (now with framed records) and snarky commentary from the music director. He also manages to capture better red-room drama than Idol ever did by having the contestants’ “manager” ask them leading questions for reactions. Judging by the eye rolling, teeth sucking, and verbal outbursts, methinks they might not realize the cameras are on them when the other contestants are performing. Whatever. There’s some marginally talented singers and nasty commentary and BoomKat! doing her best Paula/Lil’ Mama hybrid judge spot.

Project Runway: As soon as that All Star special started, I realized that I am a Project Runway junkie. All my off-season negativity, anger, and that horrible case of the shakes disappeared while former contestants were put through the ringer to make a three look collection…make that a three look collection with a red carpet outfit for the premiere of Nine…make that a four look collection with an outfit designed from materials pulled out of a restaurant for a $100,000 cash prize. The bitchiness, the talent (Chris March slept for more of the episode than he sewed because he’s that quick and talented, medical issues aside), the much needed dose of Santino (“Sweet P, you don’t look a day over 52.”). And then the actual season started, and I may have cried. So…beautiful. How poorly do you need to do to be eliminated over someone who sent a model in a see-through sheet down the runway? Pretty crazy. I’ll miss you Ari. Lifetime TV means more Tim Gunn, which is always a good thing.

America’s Best Dance Crew: If for nothing else than Lil Mama’s constantly changing hair (Vulcan-esque one week, bedazzled another, rocking a pony tail through the top of baseball hat another), the show does occassionaly feature really interesting dance routines. When will Shane Sparks break down and say something so offensive websites are aghast about it for weeks (like last season’s barely edited “no homo”)? Will JC pull the stick out of his ass just once? Will should-be host Layla Kayleigh give birth during the show? Will Mario Lopez get a new processor to better deliver his lines? And will Lil Mama fully transform into a drag queen thanks the the glorious power of Vogue Evolution?

Top Chef: How do you make a great show greater? Add the drama of Las Vegas via quickfire challenges that can now win you a big hunk of change instead of immunity. It’s looking like another interesting season.

Flipping Out: I didn’t get it at first. Why am I watching a show about an OCD house flipper and his unrealistic standards. Then Jeff Lewis and his crew began to infiltrate my brain. Slowly but surely, I began to really care about what happened to Valley Oak and if Zoila would ever start to dish it back to Jeff for his nasty sense of humor. It’s candid reality that comes off like scripted comedy because of how insane Jeff Lewis is. He’s a genius, but he’s out there. It’s like a real-life Mr. Burns mixed with Anna Wintour by way of Devil Wears Prada. It’s the closest I want to come to trash reality TV without any sense of guilt.

*Not to trivialize the horrific murder that occurred, but the coverage will shift real quick now that the primary suspect is dead.

Play It: Spell My Finger

It's two days later and I can't stop playing the new Adult Swim game Spell My Finger.

Is there a plot? Some greater message? An engrossing character? A decent soundtrack?

No.

You play as a finger flying through "a vast futuristic wasteland littered with all the letters of the alphabet." Your goal is to spell words with the randomly dispersed letters. The scores are given Scrabble-style, meaning each letter is assigned a point value between 10 and 90, and bonus multipliers are available. Each letter added increases the multiplier (a 2 letter word is 2x, 3 is 3x, etc.) and bonus multipliers are added to the total. There is a time limit before you expire (literally).

There's a rush of excitement unmatched by any other Adult Swim game when you're trying to spell out "renaissance" and barely have time left to find a "c," let alone the concluding "e." You will get frustrated, but you will come back for more.

Here's a helpful hint to get you started: the up arrow makes the screen move faster, and the down arrow makes it go slower. The in-game instructions don't specify that, and I learned after one too many  "oh the letter's right in front of me hurry hurry hurry damnit!" moments. Also, the pink arrows act as a delete key if you make a mistake, removing the last letter in your chain.

The only downsides? The game can only handle up to 15 letter words and words with dual meanings (clean and dirty) are not counted. Otherwise, it's solid.

Film Review: 500 Days of Summer

It took sixth months to find a film I enjoyed more than Coraline and of course it's another tiny film that challenges the expectations of the viewers and hinges on a strange aesthetic. Of course it is.

500 Days of Summer is a smart, dry, subtle romantic comedy for people who don't like romantic comedies because that predictable plot arc doesn't happen in real life all too often. For one thing, this film actually has a well integrated score of some contemporary music and some original scoring. The contemporary/popular music played is actually played by the characters in the film (sung at karaoke or turned on the radio/iPod/computer) and serves a narrative purpose. The original scoring is delightful.

Another big difference is the caliber of the performances. For those keeping score, it's ok to love Zooey Deschanel again. She more than made up for The Happening with this performance. She really has nothing to work with but "Wow, this hot girl sure is strange and hard to read" yet she pulls out beautiful moments of pain and joy and love and boredom that could easily be glossed over by an actress. She also sings in the film which doesn't hurt.

The true star of the film is Joseph Gordon-Levitt as the impossibly optimistic young man who believes in the fairy tale notion of love at first sight. For all of the strange quirks thrown in just to be quirky and strange, Gordon-Levitt makes them work. He's nothing short of brilliant. It's an absolute shame that this is not the type of role the Academy Awards tend to recognize (emotional male focusing on love and personal relationships). The screenplay would surely have suffered at the hands of a less skilled actor in the same way that Juno probably wouldn't have worked without Ellen Page making some really awkward dialogue and quirky moments seem real enough for the world of the film.

Which isn't to say 500 Days of Summer is anything like Juno. It's not. For one, the characters talk like average Americans (who understand grammar and use it properly, so maybe not so average). The relaxed LA setting works for the film. For another, the editing does everything to make intentional weirdness, like a transitional sequence of famous European existential films to signify the emotional turmoil of Gordon-Levitt's character or a black and white analysis of Deschanel's body measurements while riding a bicycle, work well. What could be eye-rolling gimmicks become funny and touching moments that leave a smile on your face. If anything, these moments are more like the cute asides in Amelie than the burger phones of Juno.

For another, director Marc Webb knows what he wants and gets it done well. The result is a film that seems like the director had a light hand when in reality he had to carefully orchestrate every single scene of the film to get the right tone and nuance.

So what is so weird about the film that the backlash is going to start sooner rather than later? There's the appropriate and justified use of voice over narration, for one. That gives people something to latch onto for hate. And then there's the fact that the story is not told in sequential order, uses a partially animated backdrop to show where in the 500 days the story is, and the opening voice over declares "This is not a film about love" even though it clearly is. And don't forget the young child wise beyond her years (Chloe Moretz, who is great in her few scenes) serving up relationship advice during soccer practices to her adult brother.

500 Days of Summer is a treat. It's the fluffy nougat of a candy bar or the taro in a bubble tea. It's a feel good film where a bunch of horrible (in real world scale) things happen to regular people. Please see it. You'll enjoy it.

Sounds Like A Triple Score to Me

Oh, magical personal theater news.

1) The new drama teacher, my new boss, went toe to toe with the biggest annoyance of the Drama Club and crushed him like a bug. Fantastic.

2) The new drama teacher's husband, in construction, ripped out awful storage from the costume closet and is in the process of installing actual hardware to hang costumes off of so they don't sit in tubs unidentifiable until we can't find what we need.

3) Sounds like a show to me: I'm done prepping kids for the camp talent show. With the two dance specialists, we're putting on a cute, age appropriate show for the little'uns. The 3rd grade group that told the dance specialists to shove it are cut off from my help, as well. I kicked them out of my room as soon as they bragged about refusing their choreography. We will be making it very clear to every member of the admin that they fought us over the talent show and refuse to let us see what they are doing, what song they are using, etc until the show itself. Let them get fired.

So, very good day today. Happy. Peaceful. Not stuck on the TPZ Bridge with kids going into eighth grade screaming in my ear for close to two hours.

Halloween on the Brain

Listen, I get it. It’s August. Most of you don’t start thinking about Halloween until October. Me? I normally have plans fully drafted before the SuperBowl reaches the big halftime show. I’m flying blind this year with general ideas and I love it so far.

For novice haunters who might get it stuck in their head they want to start playing early: Monster List, Haunt Project – two best how-to compendiums on the web. Monster List has more things then you imagined possible, while Haunt Project only posts projects that have reference photos.

And for those that need more of a store-bought incentive, how about moving lit airblown dancing zombies around an organist?

Lightshoworganzombies
Or what about a pirate ship with lights and sound effects?

Pirateship

And then there’s those fancy synchronized Halloween light shows that are picking up in popularity:

No? Oh well. It was worth a try.

NYMF Membership Option

It's August already. That can only mean one thing: we're mere weeks from the New York Musical Theatre Festival beginning. NYMF is dedicated to showcasing new original works of musical theater that might otherwise never be seen. Alumni include [title of show] and Next to Normal (then Feeling Electric), as well as popular Off-Broadway fare Altar Boyz, The Great American Trailer Park Musical, Gutenberg! The Musical, and Rooms.

So what's the big deal about the NYMF? Simple: cheap tickets for brave new shows that might just make it to Broadway. We're not quite at Fringe Festival level here with weirdness or Broadway success yet, but it's only going into its fifth year. There are more shows than ever and a new option to purchase tickets in advance: memberships.

A $100 membership gets first choice tickets a month before everyone else to 4 shows as well as access to some exclusive nighttime events. $200 (my choice) gets eight first choice tickets and access to all exclusive events, plus 25% off night time events to be announced later. $300 is the biggest package, giving twelve first choice tickets and access to all readings during the festival.

Just imagine: a two week glut of new musicals ranging from vampire romances to ginger-revenge plots, autism to fat camps, nerds to normals, for $25 a ticket with a membership.

And guess what: the shows sell out fast. You might not get to see Anjou, A Tale of Horror after the Times sinks its teeth into it. Fat Camp: The Musical could turn out to be really funny and touching even if the casting call wanted a young Jack Black type for the lead. And R.R.R.E.D: A Secret Musical will surely be talked about for jumping on the extinction of Gingers and a solution for revival that might make Eric Cartman applaud.

I'll be seeing two of those, and only not three for petty reasons. I don't care if my friends were joking or not, I don't believe it's funny to send me the casting notice calling for plus-size gals and larger guys who can sing and dance when they know damn well what I look like right now.

Film Review: The Collector (2009)

Let's get this out of the way real quick: The Collector is not a very good film. I'd be hard-pressed to say it goes beyond mediocre for any good length of time in the entire film. The direction of the actors is poor, as the best performance is given by a child who comes nowhere close to scared kid in slasher/home invasion/hybrid flick standards so clearly set by one-film wonder Carrie Henn in Aliens.

We've hit the purpose of the review. The Collector is not "torture porn." The collector is a home invasion film mixed with a slasher film, much like last year's The Strangers. The killer, who will be referred to here as The Exterminator as he is called in the film, wears a scary mask that lets you see his eyes and mouth. He lumbers through the house with almost super-human senses as he is capable of hearing a fish hook swing on a line two flights up while toying with prey in the basement. He is clearly off his rocker and presented as an inhuman monster in the film. A survivor guy, Matthew McConaugheyed by Josh Stewart with a southern accent and winky grin that pops out every other line even though the character isn't southern or charming, does his best to help everyone escape before a final showdown with The Exterminator. Hence, a slasher film.

The family, already captured, is trying their best to avoid trouble from the mysterious Exterminator by keeping quiet and hiding as best they can givein their restraints. A stranger has entered their home and wishes to do bad things to them. They do not know who they can or can't trust, as another stranger, Matthew McConaugheyed by Josh Stewart with a southern accent and winky
grin that pops out every other line even though the character isn't
southern or charming, tries to help them escape. However, because they family does not know who to trust in their state of invaded panic, they don't always listen to his advice and face consequences for it. Hence, a home invasion film.

But what of this "torture porn" label being bandied about? It's woefully misplaced on a by-the-numbers slasher film presented in a home invasion environment. If this film is "torture porn," then we need to rewrite film history and retcon the term on greater classics of the genre.

For example, the stained glass window sequence, bird attack, and razor wire room in Suspiria are all far more explicit and depraved than anything that happens in The Collector. You see more of the details in Suspiria and watch extended sequences of human suffering clearly designed, in 2009 eyes, to provide some sexual thrill to sick bastards. Hence, because it's more violent than "torture porn" flick The Collector, it, too, must be "torture porn."

Or how about The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. If the level of violence shown, not just implied by careful editing and effective practical effects displaying the end result but not the process of the attack, in The Collector merits being called "torture porn," then surely seeing the after effects, but never actually the attack, of Leatherface in the original MOMA-housed Texas Chainsaw Massacre means that it is also "torture porn".

Why, Psycho must be "torture porn" as well for showing so much more blood being spilled in one scene than The Collector shows for the majority of its running time. The shower scene lasts longer than any gore scene in The Collector.

Clearly, by modern definition, much of the respected horror ouvre is "torture porn." People are shown suffering for our enjoyment. By modern definition, Alfred Hitchcock, Tobe Hooper, and Dario Argento are merely sick bastards who feel so imasculated by society they must prove their manhood by getting off on women in distress and bloody.

Yet, I don't hear too many people going nuts over the level of violence in Suspiria (normally called beautiful, nightmarish, and brilliant) or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (again, housed at MOMA for the quality of artistic filmmaking), or even Psycho (some won't even call it horror for fear of ruining its reputation). The fact remains, no mainstream US film has ever really been "torture porn." That genre exists for a small market and is serviced by the erotic, not mainstream nor independent, film industry. Every violent film is not "torture porn," as far more violent films exist in the history of cinema on an international stage than any film created by someone connected to the Saw series.

This does not make The Collector a better film than it is. The most inventive scenes were all done before to far greater effect in films ranging from Ichi the Killer to Battle Royale to Dee Snyder's Strangeland, just to get the obvious references out of the way. The film plays on light and darkness like Universal Monster and Val Lewton films. There is a masked killer like the slasher wave of the late 70s/early 80s. And traps are set, just like Suspiria among many other horror films featuring booby-traps long before James Wan and Leigh Whannel were born.

Will a horror fan get a kick out of The Collector? Absolutely. It's tense and features some pretty impressive practical (not CG) effects, even if the violence is rarely executed on screen and the quality pales in comparison to Black Christmas, Halloween, or even Friday the 13th.

The human mind is a powerful thing. There are those who swear they saw Leatherface impale victims on meathooks in the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, even though it's never shown. There are people who passed out at screenings from seeing a woman cut her body up with razor blades and knives in In My Skin, even though it's never shown. There are people who swear up and down they know what Rosemary's Baby looks like because it's the last shot of the film; again, false memories. So will people actually believe they saw evisceration, eye gouging, and teeth pulling in The Collector even though the actual event is never shown? Yes. And they will cry out "torture porn."

Hmm…maybe I'm underestimating the strength of this film. If not showing anything can get blood boiling this much, maybe there's more to it than I initially thought. For right now, I'll say it's mediocre in its best moments. The plot is too limited and the acting too poor to really rise above that. But for slasher fans? Please enjoy. It's one of the better ones in recent years. And I'm not going to go on a rampage if I see teaser posters for The Collector II in a few months.