Unreal
reality
A flexible format
and absence of a script or time-consuming rehearsals have made
TV reality shows the stock-in-trade of production houses. Amar
Nath Wadehra and Randeep Wadehra
look at how
participants, especially children, are becoming victims of these
programmes
THOSE were
comparatively sedate, single-channel days with occasional
ripples in the pond-sized Indian mediascape, like introducing
colour television on the Delhi Asian Games eve, and adding a
channel for regional telecasts, which kept us enthralled.
Frankly, Doordarshan’s monopoly did not irk most of us since
we were blissfully unaware of the pleasures of channel surfing.
There was the weekly movie, the Chitrahaar and drama in
the form of tele-films, mythological serials etc. The arrival of
the satellite television transformed India’s mediascape into a
lively entity of vast proportions.
The new era
brought in a clutch of private operators beaming channels into
our homes, each vying for maximum viewer-attention.
Consequently, the conventional, all-inclusive macro programming,
began to give way to more market-savvy niche programming —
sprucing up the content quality and production values to match
global standards.
Today we have more
than 300 mainstream, regional and local television channels
vying for eyeballs. With the traditional sitcoms and family
dramas becoming too ubiquitous and monotonous, the need for
innovative programming brought new compulsions. This is where
the reality show has scored over other genres. It has a flexible
format, doesn’t need a script, professional actors,
time-consuming rehearsals, costly sets and other accessories.
Being relatively cheap and easy to produce, reality show has
become the stock-in-trade of production houses.
The reality shows
on Indian television can be categorised as comic (Laughter
Challenge, Comedy Circus), talent hunt (Jo Jeeta
Wohi Superstar, Boogie Woogie, Nach Baliye, Chhote Ustaad),
action/game show (Roadies), celebrity show (Zindagi
Issi Ka Naam Hai), documentary-style shows — also called
mockumentary because the content is doctored to jazz up the
presentation — (Haadsa, Crime File), makeover shows (I
Superstar), IQ/GK tests (KBC, Kya Aap Paanchvi Pass,
Business Baazigar), paranormal (Mano ya na mano, Aisa bhi
hota hai) and some of them are just plain voyeuristic (Big
Boss) — the enumeration is by no means exhaustive. However
different their concepts might be, all reality shows,
intrinsically run on the same path. They put ordinary people or
celebrities in real-life/competitive situations and allow couch
potatoes to enjoy the thrill of watching them perform like so
many caged critters.
Actually, the term
"reality TV" is a misnomer. All these shows involve a
lot of inputs that modify reality beyond recognition.
Rehearsals, artificial props and simulated situations rob the
shows of reality. A child aspirant for Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Little
Champ’s latest edition admitted that participants have to
do rigorous late-night rehearsals. They are even told what jokes
to crack and what and how to speak in front of the camera, thus
robbing the proceedings of spontaneity and hence reality. Then,
there are attempts to spice up the proceedings through faux
controversies. Take the instance of UK’s infamous Big
Brother. Jade Goody’s racist remarks against Shilpa Shetty
were clearly prompted by commercial interests. The two made up
after the desired publicity was achieved. So, while Big
Brother’s TRPs shot up, Shilpa’s flagging career perked
up too. Big Brother’s Indian avatar Big Boss
also tried the controversy route to fame courtesy the
ever-obliging Rakhi Savant, with Amit Roy, John Abraham et al
chipping in. But not all reality TV-related controversies are
simulated or harmless. Some, especially those involving
children, are dangerously real.
Children and
reality shows appear to have a bittersweet relationship.
Talented youngsters are getting never-before opportunities to
showcase their talents and bag lucrative offers in the bargain.
On the downside, they are getting hurt emotionally and exploited
economically. Exceptions like Kya Aap Paanchvi Pass Se Tez
Hain’s happy, well-paid whiz kids notwithstanding.
Before we examine
the cases of those who, willingly or at the instance of their
parents, take part in the so-called reality shows, let us recall
the child who has posthumously become an unwitting victim of
sensation mongering. After Aarushi Talwar’s murder, her mother
Dr Nupur Talwar became busy fighting the omnigenous monster
called media that thrives on sensationalism. In her plea to the
National Commission for Protection of Child Rights, she asked
for a restraint order on the Balaji Telefilms’ airing the
episodes of one of its popular serials that allegedly are based
on the 14-year-old Aarushi’s murder case. "Stop
commercialising our tragedy," she cried out. And Aarushi’s
aunt Vandana reinforced the angst-filled protest, "Don’t
use tragedy for TRPs."
But how many TV
channels listened? All sorts of reality shows on India TV, Zee
News, Aaj Tak, Star News, News24 etc, while telecasting
simulated murder sequences, have been speculating on such ‘newsy’
aspects as the child’s personal life ("Aarushi ka apne
katilon se kya rishta tha?" asks the News24 anchor),
her father’s affairs and her mother’s activities. On the
other hand, NDTV 24X7 backed the Talwars to the hilt — be it
via We the People or a special home video-based
documentary highlighting the strong father-daughter bonds. Now
that Dr Rajesh Talwar has been given a clean chit by the CBI,
all those simulated murder scenarios aired by various channels
will haunt the respective producers for a long time. Thanks to
the remorseless media glare and ham-handed police
investigations, the Talwar family has neither been allowed to
mourn their only child’s death nor perform the last rites
properly. True, the media has sobered up a bit now, but immense
damage has been done already. However, one fact cannot be
denied. If the media, despite its tendency for overkill, had not
highlighted the case, perhaps the Uttar Pradesh police would
have cooked the Talwars’ goose by now. But this does not
absolve the media of the charge of invading and ignoring
individuals’ privacy and rights. Clearly, questions related to
media ethics, along with somnolent public opinion and
incompetent policing, need to be addressed urgently.
The school-going
16-year-old Kolkata girl Shinjini Sengupta’s case highlights
another sordid aspect of reality television. Like any other
child of her age, she had been dreaming of making it big on the
small screen. A good dancer, she has acted in Bengali tele-serials
and a Bengali film. On May 19, during the shooting of a regional
channel’s dance competition, she was rebuked by one of the
judges, which sent her into deep depression. A few days later
she lost her speech and the use of her limbs, resulting in
costly treatment in Bangalore. The doctors concerned have not
yet made public the cause and nature of Shinjini’s ailment,
but there is reasonable circumstantial evidence pointing to the
judge’s rebuke as the trigger that set off the child’s
mental and physical debility. But the judges’ rebuke is not
peculiar to any particular participant or show. We have watched
judges of Indian Idol regularly upbraiding young
participants for not performing up to the expected standards. Sa
Re Ga Ma Pa, once known for dignified proceedings — with
Sonu Nigam as host and O. P. Nayyar as judge — has turned into
an arena for clashing egos. Judges not only bicker among
themselves but also target young participants with unwarranted
criticism. For example, in the show’s last series, a girl
contestant, Koel, was chastised for singing a rather erotic song
from the Bollywood flick Aitraaz. They did not stop at
terming the song — chosen by the show’s in-house creative
team — as ‘obscene’ but went on to pass nasty remarks on
her dress — which, too, was the choice of the show’s
production team. Obviously the child was caught in the crossfire
of TRP chasing in-house politics. Another contestant, Sarika
Singh, reportedly fainted on the sets as she feared tough
treatment at the hands of the judges.
While the judges’
behaviour on various reality shows is certainly questionable,
the role of parents too
comes under the scanner. Enticed by mega-rewards dangled by
various reality shows like Chak de bacche, Sa Re Ga Ma Pa,
Voice of India and Boogie Woogie, parents egg on
their progeny to participate. There have been reports that
people from small towns even sell off their land and property to
finance their wards’ tryst with fame and fortune.
There are many
success stories of nobodies becoming celebrities that strengthen
their resolve to push their progeny into the nerve-shaking world
of competition-based reality shows. For example, Sunidhi Chauhan,
a joint winner of Lata Mangeshkar Award in Meri Aawaz Suno has
become a singing icon; Shreya Ghoshal became popular Bollywood
singer after winning the Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Challenge trophy
in 1996 as a 12-year-old; and the 14-year-old Aishwarya Majumdar
has bagged lucrative deals after winning Amul Star Voice of
India Chhote Ustaad in 2008.
But starry-eyed
wannabes overlook the fact that out of thousands of
participants, only a few make it to the winners’ podium. For
every Sunidhi Chauhan, there are hundreds of Shinjinis whose
plight has not been documented. Post-participation traumas among
the children who fail to make the grade have yet to be studied
seriously by our social scientists and psychologists. And, we
are unaware of the long-term psychological consequences for the
children who taste success so early in life. After all coping
with success can be psychologically stressful too.
Here, it would be
pertinent to point out that the participating children don’t
get any emoluments for their performances. So, TV producers get
a huge, malleable, enthusiastic and talented cast for peanuts.
What goes out as prize money and other overheads forms a
miniscule fraction of their revenues from sponsorships and
advertisements. This is sheer exploitation. Surely, it is not so
difficult to set up a statutory authority to ensure that all
performing children get a decent remuneration? The most common
rationale offered is that the country’s potential stars are
provided an opportunity to showcase their talent, and that the
shows ensure limelight even for the also-rans. True, but must it
involve child exploitation? After all, the participants are not
mature enough to realise what is good for them. Lure of lucre
and limelight prompts their parents to push them into situations
that have long-term psychological and social consequences.
It is high time
India-specific empirical data on child participants in various
reality shows is collected, collated, analysed and published so
that proper statuary safeguards are put in place and the
artistes’ interests protected. It is also time to redefine the
reality television as it is understood in India presently,
because there is nothing real about it.
Victims of
vote
After losing twice in music contests due to audience voting, Harshit Saksena vowed never to participate in a reality show
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Voting by
viewers is now a permanent feature of reality shows.
However, it provokes variegated responses in different
countries. In the West, it is considered a healthy trend
as it strengthens democratic values, apart from garnering
viewer loyalty. But...
In 2005, the
American show Pop Idol’s Chinese version Super
Girl became extremely popular. It reportedly drew an
audience of around 400 million people, and eight million
text message votes. This sent alarm bells ringing through
the Beijing establishment, as it suspected that democracy
was being promoted surreptitiously. So the show was banned
on the grounds of vulgarity.
However, in
India different types of fears are raising the head, viz.,
regionalism. There have been allegations that viewers vote
on the basis of regional/linguistic affinity with the
contestants rather than on merit. This is, some fear,
going to lead to competitive chauvinism. For example, when
Qazi Tauqeer from Kashmir won the Fame Gurukul
contest on Sony Entertainment Television in 2006, there
were reports that the ULFA openly asked the people of
Assam to vote for the local lad Debojit Saha on Zee’s Sa
Re Ga Ma Pa Challenge. Conversely, some argue that
such trends underscore our emotional belief that as
Indians, all must have equitable share of the
national-level fame. |
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