In 1965, Candid Camera posted signs along the highway saying that the state of Delaware was closed for the day and had men in uniform wave cars away. People accepted this and turned around. In another episode, the producers posted signs in a shoe repair shop with a checkered floor: “Please step only on the black squares.” People valiantly tried to obey. In one famous scene, a man gets on an elevator with several people in it. As soon as the doors close, everyone turns to face the back of the elevator. The new rider turns around, too. The others turn to face front. He turns around again. And so on, a series of mostly gentle pokes at the urge to be in the crowd, to not stand out. At one point, Funt tried to get into the White House and talk to the president but ended up being interrogated by the Secret Service, which of course recorded the interview. Candid Camera so disturbed the culture’s idea of what was real that when Funt’s family was on an airplane that was hijacked to Cuba, the passengers refused to believe the hijacking was real until they landed in Havana. Funt recalled someone shouting that they must be on Candid Camera, and “people began cheering and stamping their feet… .[until] the skyjacker stuck his head out of the cabin. This only made matters worse because 150 people gave him a big round of applause.”
The contracts signed by players on reality shows are exploitative to a startling degree. One can argue that many human relationships are both exploitative and transactional, and I’m not sure celebrity is possible without both. Candid Camera pioneered the use of a release in which people give away their right to privacy; it may have been the first time that people willingly agreed to be secretly filmed. Survivor takes this so much further. A crucial part of the contract is the name and likeness release. There is no room for negotiation, and the signing away of the heretofore fundamental right to control one’s own image lasts for at least three years after he show ends. On Survivor, as on most reality shows, people ”play” themselves. They act themselves. Perhaps this is not so shocking in a culture driven by Instagram and TikTok, where our most intimate and most mundane experiences are equally recorded and shared. But those platforms are at least nominally controlled by the performers. On reality shows, the contestants provide the labor and the network owns the results. By contract, the players on Survivor can never write a book about their experiences, give away secrets of production, and they aren’t supposed to explain what happens off camera. (This rule has been broken a lot.) People consent to be filmed in circumstances that in any other context would be an actionable violation of privacy. The network may create a domain name for players and a fictionalization of the player to be used as the network sees fit, including for “a humorous or satirical effect,” and these versions of the players belong to CBS forever. The contract makes the point that you may be subject to having information of a “personal, private, intimate, surprising, defamatory, disparaging, embarrassing, or unfavorable nature that may be factual and/or fictional” broadcast on television. They must undergo psychological tests and lie detector tests, and the results of these tests may be published by the network. They give away the right to anything they create on the show, from a song to a pose to their own words, in perpetuity and throughout the known universe, in known and not-yet-invented media. The contract stipulates that there may be severe mental stress during the game; that players may be injured or contract diseases, including HIV and herpes; that they may die. The producers may change the rules of the game at any time, even in the middle of a challenge. Players are not allowed to “defame or disparage” the network or the producers or to do press tours without permission. There is a lot of “Producer’s sole discretion” language in the contract. Even the money is given by discretion and can be withheld. A veteran player said the producers don’t tolerate push-back. “It’s kind of like a mob threat. Like, you will be taken care of. You will not be sticking around for long if you keep fucking with us.”
Our fundamental concepts of truth, fairness and the American way have changed since Candid Camera, perhaps forever. Players know the drill. They’re fans; they know the rites and catechism of the games. On most reality shows, players agree to a non-union shop, and this extends to themselves. Players cannot renegotiate and can be summarily dismissed without cause (but not allowed to leave). In many cases, quitting has to be done on camera; I assume this is to allow for public shaming.
People line up to sign these contracts.
- from a forthcoming book on reality television
2087
blakekathryn
origamiaround
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
discoholicmusic
romaincrisis
titsay
theartofmadeline
stormborns
kaledo-art
