The Ultimate Reality

Conjecture has long held that the reality TV gravy train would finally come off the rails when someone actually died during shooting. And while that has yet to happen, we seem to be coming eerily close to such a tragedy. In recent weeks, we’ve seen the brutal murder of model Jasmine Fiore, allegedly at the hands of her husband Ryan Jenkins, who later committed suicide after fleeing to Canada; and just this weekend, the death of DJ AM, who survived a plane crash less than a year ago only to succumb to a drug overdose.

What does this have to do with reality TV? Jenkins was a contestant on not one but two VH1 dating shows: Megan Wants a Millionaire aired three episodes before being canceled shortly after news of Fiore’s death broke, and I Love Money 3 was set to premiere in January but will now remain in the network's vault. DJ AM (né Adam Goldstein), meanwhile, had already completed production on a Celebrity Rehab-type program for MTV called Gone Too Far. The network hasn’t yet decided whether they will air the show, though some are saying that the hindsight provided here could be the ultimate wake-up call to those who suffer from addiction; no doubt others will see it as exploitative if MTV goes forward with it.

More than any other medium, TV is able to push the envelope (and buttons) with its immediacy. Trends can be cashed in on quickly, copycats abound, and our tolerance levels continue to be tested. Is it so hard to imagine that our obsession with taking everything to its extreme will one day lead to someone’s untimely demise? For years, we’ve watched as Survivor contestants who were too skinny to begin with are subjected to as many as 39 days without an adequate meal, going home looking like anorexics in need of treatment. The rapid weight loss that is The Biggest Loser's raison d’être seems like a heart attack waiting to happen. It’s probably a small miracle that there haven’t been any automobile accidents on The Amazing Race given how the teams yell at their cab drivers to speed through busy streets, putting innocent bystanders at risk. And while producers claim that all contestants go through rigorous psychological screenings and background checks (though an article in the current issue of Entertainment Weekly acknowledges that standards have become more lax, particularly on cable where product is churned out at an alarming pace), it’s not too far-fetched to think that one of The Bachelor’s rejected women could come back for revenge, or be so distraught by the rejection that she takes her own life.

For the sake of entertainment, we choose to look beyond some of the unhealthiness that is rampant in reality TV. (It doesn’t help that contestants must sign waivers that completely remove any liability on the part of the producers and the networks should anything go wrong, leaving no one at fault but the contestants themselves.) And I admit to being drawn into it like so many others; there is nothing like the thrill of good competition. But does tragedy really have to strike before we begin to see what’s been right in front of millions of our faces the entire time?