\n<\/p>\n
It\u2019s Christmas Eve in 2017 and Countess Luann De Lesseps<\/a> has just been arrested in Palm Beach. \u201cI\u2019m going to kill you,\u201d the 52-year-old intones from the back of a police cruiser, before slipping out of her handcuffs and attempting to flee like Harry Houdini in a floral sundress. Later, when she\u2019s alone in a jail cell, a guard takes pity on her and throws her a bologna sandwich. \u201cIt was almost like a dead fish hanging out of my mouth,\u201d is how Luann describes it, somewhat poetically, on Bravo\u2019s The Real Housewives of New York<\/em> after they\u2019d aired the grainy dash-cam footage of her arrest. \u201cIt was so sad.\u201d<\/p>\n I remember watching this play out, enthralled. This trilingual, high-society woman was now also a convicted felon (her charges included battery, disorderly intoxication, and trespassing). Not long afterward, she transformed her experiences into a successful cabaret show that she now tours around the world. Amid all of this, one fact remains: RHONY<\/em><\/a> is still some of the best TV I\u2019ve ever seen. Better than The Wire<\/em> or Peaky Blinders<\/em> or whatever else peoples\u2019 boyfriends insist I watch. Yet if I were to say that reality TV as a genre is responsible for some of TV\u2019s most emotionally complex, moving, comedic, Shakespearean story arcs, I would probably sound like I was being ironic. Because reality TV is vapid and smooth-brained, right?<\/p>\n Sometimes, yes\u2014but not always.<\/p>\n Reality TV\u2019s reputation for being anti-intellectual and lowbrow likely stems from a few factors. As a genre, it occupies a strange space\u2014neither documentary nor scripted TV, but a glossy third thing involving overly dramatic background music and pre-planned scenes. Detractors consider this format both mind-numbing and salacious, engineered for immediate gratification and often focused on cast members\u2019 petty personal grievances and rock-bottom moments. Yet these shows follow real people in their real lives, sometimes over years, even decades. For anyone deeply interested in the minutiae of what it means to be human, reality TV is king. The best reality shows\u2014every Bravo franchise, The Kardashians<\/em>, Dance Moms<\/em>\u2014are anthropological studies with campy one-liners, life blown up to exaggerated proportions.<\/p>\n I\u2019m not the only one to make this argument; it\u2019s recently gathered pace on TikTok. \u201cIt\u2019s anthropology, sociology, the human condition,\u201d says one poster<\/a>. \u201cWhen you\u2019re bingeing, you\u2019re not being a piece of shit. You\u2019re researching, you\u2019re gathering data points.\u201d Obviously \u201cresearching\u201d is a bit of a stretch, but there\u2019s a reason Vanderpump Rules<\/em> was nominated for two consecutive Emmy Awards, with a special nod for outstanding picture editing in 2023 (the year of \u201cScandoval\u201d). It\u2019s rare that we get to see the events leading up to\u2014and in the aftermath of\u2014a romantic betrayal, and hear from all affected parties. Such things are usually confined to Esther Perel\u2019s podcast, or a season of Couples Therapy.<\/em><\/p>\n I also suspect that, like \u201cchick flicks\u201d or \u201crom-coms,\u201d disdain for reality TV is intricately tied to the fact it\u2019s a format predominantly consumed by, and featuring, women and gay men. Women\u2019s interests have long been considered frivolous\u2014especially if such interests involve expressing emotion; talking about their feelings with each other; or navigating status and power outside of, or in direct opposition to, their relationships with straight men. But if it weren\u2019t for Housewives<\/em>, I would not see the lives of women in their 50s\u2014their fears, hopes, frustrations\u2014play out onscreen in such detail or flagrancy. Dismissing TV like this as dumb or vapid reveals a great deal about what our wider society deems worthy.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n