The Death of Culture

Aaron speaks out, god bless him!
Resort News Coverage

The Resort must really be desperate. It appears that footballer Aaron has returned to try and drum up some interest in the show by doing a couple of non-interviews.

Reading this piece from news.com.au - it makes me wonder what on earth they asked him. Did they ask him anything? Was Aaron really unresponsive? or was the journalist just trying to get away to buy a coffee?

However as an non-article of non-news, it's perfect to advertise a show that fails to attain even the non-lofty requirements of the reality TV show format.

(yeah, yeah. I watched it last night. Will recap tomorrow.)

The Resort - Episode 2 recap
Only a week late - demonstrating I care about exactly as much as the producers.

Not so much a recap as a dirge.

The Resort's second episode was pretty entertaining. But that's because it was an entertaining failure. Normally I declare war on all terms in inverted commas (it's just so 'postmodern'), but this show makes me want to problematise the terms 'renovate', 'eviction', and 'entertainment' - all of which should not be difficult concepts on a reality TV show based on renovation. For chrissakes.

Last week, I ranted a little about how the renovations weren't really great TV. Rule One: renovation is only interesting if you can understand the achievement - from the 'before' of the raw product, to the different types of renovation undertaken and the parameters of that renovation (ie: time, money, materials available), to the 'after'. Skimping on any of these steps lessens the pay-off.

This week adds a new rule, because the first 'eviction' was stupidly handled. Why? There was no anticipation. It was almost like someone suddenly looked at their watch and thought 'shit, 3pm. We should kick someone out already. Someone, get Jon out of the sauna.' They asked for volunteers, and voted on it - people were sick of Christie whinging about missing her boyfriend, so out she goes. Rule Two: Evictions are only fun when they're involuntary, where there's a bit of anticipation, and when we're given enough information to understand where a groundswell of opinion is coming from. Viewers want the smackdown. If we don't get smackdown, we feel sad. Perhaps even a bit betrayed.

The second eviction was even worse than an afterthought. When the three girls were told to renovate a bungalow as a challenge, it sets up the expectation that they will be judged on their work, and whichever of them is found wanting will be booted. Sure enough the girls 'renovate' (although we don't really see too much of what they are asked to do - breaking Rule One, again). Then in a twist, the foreman Rambo is asked to choose who goes. He picks Prachi, but this is apparently based on the teams opinion from before this entire exercise even began. Is there any consideration of the actual work the girls did individually on the bungalow? We don't know. We the viewer isn't sure who worked the best, and we're not told who did what.

So the eviction decision is just - well, you can't feel anything about it, because we the viewers have no basis on which to process the decision. We're told Jon and Cruise Director disagree with the decision. Why, precisely?, And why couldn't we have seen the footage of Rambo, Jon and CD arguing about the relative merits of the three girls (which Jon implies happened)? Did Jon and CD get to see things we didn't?

Either they had a gaping hole in the footage taken of the 'renovation', or the producers show a dazzling lack of awareness in what we want to see. It's not enough to see a shocking! eviction! To feel that it's shocking, we need to see the process. So three girls had to do a meaningless task we didn't really understand, and then one of them got booted for reasons that had nothing to do with the task. Dear Producers. Please see Rule Two. Again. Thanks.

Things that were pretty amusing about the episode, I guess:

1. Props to Natasha, for giving it all a deliciously surreal twist. Deciding Rambo made the wrong decision, or an arbitrary decision, Natasha quits in protest. But not before giving a rousing 'we will fight on the beaches' speech about bad management. (she expected fair and rational decisions during a competitive reality TV show about a resort? oh, how sweet.) And just so we're clear, this means that the 'renovation' task relating to the bungalow is now completely meaningless, because Prachi stays and none of three women involved in that task will actually leave. Doubly pointless. Maybe this whole show is a really convoluted homage to Beckett?

2. Props to the subtitle guys, who every time characters were doing a monologue to camera, would flash up their name and a completely superfluous piece of information. So we discover that Tabs 'photographer and part time model' doesn't particularly like Beau 'afraid of the dark'. Awesome work, friends. A little post-modern work of art. You actually made one of my housemates ask: 'is this for real?' When a reality show looks like parody, you know it's doing something right. Or at least funny.

3. My first Resort haiku:

Beach is pretty but,
The Horror! The Horror! Fire
whoever edited episode two.*


*yes, the last line is too long. It's meta-commentary, y'all.

But where's the episode review?
The Resort - Episode 2 - Nutshell version

Sorry, it's been a busy day. Here's the short, short version before the encyclopedia version with footnotes goes live:

There's a lot more grizzling. They replay a lot of the fights from last week, sadly missing out my favourite line about being in a nightclub in Noosa. Editors? I'd really appreciate it if you could you sneak that one in again somewhere. Tabs talks about opening up her earballs some more.

Then: the new footage. Ten days left! Everyone's complaining. Jon asks if anyone wants to leave. Bizarrely, there are four volunteers, then a vote. Bye bye, Christie! (or was it Michelle? - god, everyone on this show looks the same in a bikini.)

More painting, and alleged progress. Someone else needs to leave. Three people picked out to have a special challenge task - Prachi, Tabs, and Amanda (at least, probably Amanda). The task they complete has absolutely nothing to do with Prachi being voted out to leave. But suddenly, in an eleventh hour twist, Natasha votes herself out instead on moral grounds. Yeah, I didn't get it either.

Stay tuned . . . longer recap on the way.

New Resort tonight - Predictions

Man I'm loving this project. How much commentary is it possible to churn out on just one hour of television a week? How creative will I have to get? Anyone can keep up a blog on a wide canvas of 'talk about whatever the hell I want'. It's the limited subject that provides the real challenge (and my emergency entries list includes the word 'haiku').

Just some housekeeping matters for today's entry:

A few media items. According to the SMH's figures, it's looking pretty likely that I'll outlast the show, if its ratings maintain their current downward slide.

Meanwhile, apparently Aaron (allegedly hot) Lord did actually have a sporting career - his appearance on the Resort rating a mention in The Age's sports section. Hotel concierge, to journalism student, to footballer, to reality TV contestant. That's not so much a career path, as a career . . . meander.

Back on The Resort's official site, they've changed the photo on the main page. Tabs (far left) looks like she's in a Penthouse calender. Sorry, you were what? fifth place in a bikini pageant? oh, I forgot. You just make it look so natural.

And my predictions for tonight's episode:
1. Wardrobe: Cruise Director will wear a broad brimmed hat, preferably white.
2. Wardrobe Malfunction: Tabs' bikini, or Eva's shoes.
3. Deathwatch: Eva, in shoe related 'accident'.
4. Product Placement: probably more Heinken, and Freedom furniture. But I'm hoping they work in feature spots for Dettol, a funeral home, and the Grace Brothers Childrenswear Department.
5. The Stakes Will be Raised, or Someone Will Bring this Game to a Whole New Level.
6. It's monsoon season!
7. No, it isn't!
8. Bitch!

The Noble Competition
or, What else you could be watching at 8.30pm on a Wednesday night?

Not everyone has realised that The Resort is the television event of the year. I know! It's shocking! The SMH TV guide hasn't singled it out as worthy of rating a mention in its insight edgy thumbs up / thumbs down section on the Wednesday line up.

Looking at Wednesday, it's an interesting field. It has a couple of other Reality TV contenders. It also contains old school classics, Blue Heelers and The Secret Life of Us. Secret Life's debut for the year, and it's on a Wednesday at 9.30pm. I'm sure that Ten will try and tell us that this is a coveted and important timeslot, but bullshit. They clearly think the series is on its last legs. I'm taking out a bet in my local 'television show death pool' stat. (Heelers, on the other hand, is the dog that will never die. Even if they need to hire a taxidermist to keep John Wood in the credits.)

The reality contenders are My Restaurant Rules (Young couples who dream of starting their own business are given the chance to oversee their own restaurant) and the American import My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance (A bride-to-be must make it all the way to the altar with a deliberately obnoxious fiance for the chance to win $1 million). Both have different timeslots to The Resort - Restaurant at 7.30pm, Obnoxious at 9.30pm.

The question for The Resort is this: do more reality TV shows detract from each other's audience, or do they in fact build an army of viewers who become accustomed to only watching reality TV? On one view, reality afficiandos may only be able to take so much - so they may watch Restaurant, and then think 'well, that's my reality TV for the night' and switch off to read some of the early works of Henry James.

But a counter theory could run as follows. Maybe reality TV shows can positively affect each other, in that marketing cluster theory kind of way. When a bookstore moves over the road from a bookstore, they can actually boost each other's sales, provided that they occupy subtly different niches. Two or three bookstores in a small area can make a street a 'bookstore location'. People will travel to go there, because they know they get double or triple their bookstore fun.

This only works if the bookstores are different - with some overlap, but enough differentation to make people keen to walk into all three (ie: not three branches of Collins Booksellers). The Resort is very different to Obnoxious - as it's a renovation show in competition with a show about deception, avarice and family. It may not be so successful in differentiating itself from Restaurant (renovating and managing restaurants + renovating and managing a resort = yawn), and viewers who watch Restaurant at 7.30pm may not feel like continuing their run at 8.30pm.

Having said that I have no interest in Restaurant or Obnoxious. People are way more likely to actually start murdering each other in The Resort. I did see five minutes of Obnoxious, and the bride looks quite a bit like Sarah Michelle Gellar.

But I digress. The actual line up in competition with The Resort is as follows: The Big Picture (ABC); Dateline (SBS); Blue Heelers (Seven); and CSI : Miami (Nine). Blue Heelers is a past ratings winner, CSI Miami did well last year. Will The Resort get crushed like a bug? Will Channel Ten network execs be forced to face a firing squad for greenlighting this concept? Personally, I can't stand the tension.

Producers of The Resort can at least sigh with relief that no matter how badly the show tanks, the title for year's least spectacular reality TV showing seems to be already in the bag . . . for The Hot House. Stick a fork in it already. It's done.

Extra! Extra!
Fratboy flown out in shock health scare. Quickly followed by collision at sea.

With the cringeworthy headline, 'Resort no Holiday for Injured Contestant', The Age breaks the news that Erik (aka Fratboy) was evacuated from the set of the show due to stomach pains. As UTI's were deemed 'not sufficiently newsworthy', the boat that was taking him to hospital collided with another boat, causing head injuries and fractured ribs all round. What is this, a Simpsons episode?

Several thoughts:

1. Clearly, the killer is already at work. Eva should like, totally watch her back, man. He knows What You Did. Last Summer.

2. Is 'urinary tract infection' going to be this year's 'nodules on my vocal cords'?

3. Just how hard is it for two boats to collide at speed on the open sea?

The Resort - Episode 1, Part 2
"To be or not to be monsoon season?"

Haven't read Part 1? scroll down.

I'm going to start with a few words about our sponsor - or rather, the official site. It contains a 'cast' page with information and photos. I honestly can't recall some of these people from the first episode. Maybe they're really good at hiding from the cameras.

From left to right using the site photos, the main protagonists so far have included:

Erik (number four) aka Fratboy. God I hate him. He spent most of this episode trying to sleaze onto the women. Thinks Eva is hot. None of the women like him.
Eva (number five) the 'showgirl' with the shoes.
Tabatha (number six) aka Tabs. Won some bikini contest, and lists this as her greatest achievement.
Aaron (number seven) ex footballer, allegedly a bit famous, allegedly a bit hot. Might like Rebecca.
Beau (number ten) the youngest guy of the group. He's hopeless, but kind of cute about it. Thinks Eva is hot, god love him. Doesn't like Tabs.
Rebecca (number eleven) who has dark hair and seems relatively cool. Apparently bisexual. Here's hoping she plays the field. Might like Aaron, which is disappointingly pedestrian of her.
Prachi (number twelve). Whinger.
Natasha (number thirteen) is pretty forceful and bossy.
Riki (number fifteen) aka Rambo. Wannabe Mr Fixit.

On to Day Three.

People wake up. Yoga. Establishing shots of the beach, just in case we'd forgotten where we were.

Mysteriously, there's no breakfast for the Flunkies. They also say there's 'no one around', although as we're obviously still filming, I assume there's a whole stack of tired camera guys who really wish they could go home. The Flunkies wait around, fidget, then decide more or less as a group that they should 'take the initiative'. By 'take the initiative' they mean 'wander around aimlessly and attempt to enter private property'. After encountering their two different guys telling them to turn around and go back (the second was a local who totally had a - check me out! I'm on TV! - expression) they go back to the camp. Aaron admits that the expedition was 'a mistake'. Huh? Why did we see any of this? To establish that the Flunkies are really in some mind-game death camp and they can Never Escape?

Jon then turns up, and just acts nochalant, as if the whole delay wasn't because he was up late in the fake tanner and getting his hair blow dried.

Jon and the Cruise Director take us to the Resort - we don't really know where it is in relation to the Flunkies camp, because that's the kind of useful detail they'd rather leave out. It's just as run down as the Flunkies quarters, but they act all surprised. (But where's room service?) They focus particularly on the pool, which is full of green brackish water and a few floating VB cans. I muse over whether VB had to pay an advertising spot for that. Maybe Heinken paid enough to be consumed on camera, but VB only paid enough to feature as 'random garbage'.

In a brief aside, Jon tells us about how much work they have to do, and we get to see what each guest room should look like when they're done - sort of little detached cabin style residences, decked out with ultra hip furniture. There's obviously a furniture sponsor. Ikea, Freedom, or someone else? I think it's Freedom - I kind of recognise the dark wood style theme they've got going. Bets are now on as to whether all the rooms will be identical, or whether they will have different rooms to showcase different furniture options. And then they'll all stand around and enthuse that [insert sponsor name] has so much choice! Their furnture is functional, and has a classic timeless style! Man. They should hire me for this shit.

More stuffing around. Instead of actually doing some work - 'you, you and you - clean out the pool and see if it's useable' - they discuss crap such as whether they could tile the bottom of the pool with the logo of the resort. Natasha is getting particularly strident and pissing people off.

But the punchline - and easily the highlight of the episode - is the catfight between Tabs and Eva.

Tabs says it's monsoon season. Eva disagrees. Tabs says it's monsoon season. Eva disagrees. Get the idea? They then both have separate direct to camera monologues. Eva says that Tabs hates her. Tabs says that the Cruise Director had said that it's monsoon season, or that it soon will be, or something. Well Tabs - why didn't you explain that to Eva a few minutes back? Blah, blah. Things suddnely becomes interesting when Tabs' monologue is interrupted by Eva coming over and asking her what her problem is. Escalation! It's monsoon season! No it isn't! Eva is convinced Tabs is trying to bring her down! Tabs seamlessly segues into complaining about Eva's clothes. This includes the immortal line 'you dress like you're at a nightclub in Noosa.' Across Australia, people ponder: 'Noosa? Is that more or less trashy than the Gold Coast?'

Eva is having trouble fighting back because her vocabulary isn't that great - and Tabs keeps the advantage by talking faster, more aggressively, and making brutally fast subject changes. We go from Eva's dress, to her age, to her earrings in quick succession. And also? It's monsoon season! Eva responds to Tabs by telling her that Eva used to strip when she was younger. I think in Eva's world that counted as rebuttal. The combatants retreat to their corners, breathing heavily.

As irritating as I found Eva before, I am now totally on her side. Don't worry Eva. We will rise, and crush the evil Tabs and her imposing fifth-placing-in-bikini-titles chest. Drama! as the Flunkies split up with Tabs and some Flunkette minions heading to the beach, and others rallying around Eva. They both have post cat fight monologues to camera, in which both swear their undying hatred for each other. If the bar has ice picks, and the kitchen has butcher's knives, we should just watch out, y'all.

Next week: there's a little montage of exciting things to come. Cruise Director yells about how it all has to be finished in a ridiculously short time. Ten days? aren't we already on day three or four? Prachi cries, again. Whinger. Natasha looks upset. Cruise Director says something like 'one of you four has to go'. I hope that one of the four is Jon, but I'll probably be disappointed.

The Resort - Episode 1, Part 1
"I don't think we're in Kansas, Brisbane, or even the Gold Coast anymore, Toto."

First day. Aerial shot of admittedly gorgeous coastline. The water looks really blue and clear, the whole place very tranquil. I'm sure this show can fix that. We see the women arrive in small sea planes. Hilariously, they have to carry their gear through waist deep water to the beach. Did the producers not think to hire a boat for them to use to get their suitcases across, or did they indeed think of it and laugh their evillest Machivellian laugh? I'm hoping the latter. We see Flunkette after Flunkette carry increasingly impractical suitcases over to land. Some try and carry their suitcases over their heads. One cheerfully drags a suitcase behind her through the water. Here's hoping her colours aren't fast.

One woman is wearing the world's largest earrings, and highly impractical hot pink high heels. Oh, she's not going to be irritating AT ALL. All the women are thin, and most have big breasts. There's nothing like a casting director with clear instructions.

Our host, Jon Stevens turns up. Where have I seen you before, Jon? Didn't you used to have a career? Were you an actor or a personality? Play School? No indeed . . . it's even better than that. He's a singer, of Jesus Christ Superstar and INXS-post Hutchence 'fame'. Apparently he sings the theme song of the show, and he's attempting to revive his career. Well, it worked for Amity Dry. Kind of.

Jon's an interesting choice of host. He's not polished, but he's showing a propensity for snark in front of the contestants that is very, very promising. Confronted by Eva, the Flunkette with the high heels, he takes in the shoes, and after establishing that she was aware she was going to beach, says something like "you have been away before, haven't you?" followed up by the nearly as bitchy "well, they'll be good for the nightclub . . . pity there isn't a nightclub." Oooh, burn. You know you're lame when you're dissed by the host of your own reality TV show.

The Flunkettes get to see their living quarters. Yeah, they're really run down and awful. Lots of reaction shots, 'but where's room service' whines, etc.

The Flunkers arrive, getting to jump off long boats looking all manly. Not sure why they didn't get planes, and it's never explained.

Wackiness, as the boys move into some of the same rooms as the girls. Immediately, certain dynamics are established. In the most fractious room, Eva was already irritating, but looks like she won't become any less irritating by living with Prachi and Fratboy. Fratboy is annoying, and a nightclub manager. Tautology? Prachi is training to be a psychologist. Although anyone would be annoyed by Eva and Fratboy, it's hard to tell if Prachi isn't also a bit of a whinger.

They do some preliminary cleaning out the quarters, together with a lot of complaining. Our host Jon turns up with a really big fish. You just know he's going to joke about having caught it himself - it's one of those 'quips' you can see coming like a train wreck. "I caught this myself." Did you Jon? "No, not really." You amaze me. The contestants are happier with the big tub of Heineken stubbies he's brought - either that or they've already been trained like monkeys to over-enthuse every time a sponsor's logo appears. (Having said that, I would totally sign up for a reality show if Heineken was going to be the beer of choice. Imagine if it was Tooheys New?)

We notice there's one Flunker in particular who's emerging as a bit of a fix-all guy - we'll call him Rambo. He has a cross shaped tattoo on his chest, and worked in the army. He V.O's at some point during the episode that he wants to make himself invaluable to the group - which he demonstrates by being the most hands on with the fish, getting the fire together, etc, etc. In other words, exactly the same strategy used by Richard Hatch in series one of Survivor. Let's see if that tactic works for Rambo.

Night. Sleeping. Yes, they have those night vision cameras fixed to the ceilings of all the rooms. Yes, they will rapidly become a source of TMI.

Day 2. They're all given the preliminary task of renovating out their living quarters. There's a few token shots of some sweeping and cleaning. But most of the Flunkies go for a swim. Three stay behind and keep working, demonstrating that they at least have seen a reality TV show before. Naturally, a dude with a white hat (let's call him Cruise Director) turns up and bags everyone out for being slack. He singles out Flunkette Prachi, saying 'I was watching you work, and you were just . . . moving paper around." Prachi promptly bursts into tears. (Whinger?) I'd like to salute the Cruise Director for working in an office metaphor on a resort renovation show set on a beach.

And, suddenly, this isn't a game any more. The stakes are raised. We're up to a whole new level. The race is on to finish renovating the rooms by 5pm. Insert montage of lots of fixing and cleaning here.

Whilst you're busy visualising the fixing and the cleaning, here's my complaint. We should have been told from the start what kind of tools, implements of destruction, equipment, whatever, the Flunkies had available to them. We see lots of scenes of people pulling crap mattresses out of the rooms, pulling old flyscreen off the windows, pointing out that the bed frames are falling apart, etc. Fine - but knowing that you can't get a new mattress off the 'mattress coconut tree', the amount of 'renovation' they can do to these places is kind of limited to the equipment they've been supplied with. Can they just replace the flyscreen with new spiffy flyscreen, or do they have to make their own with spit and palm leaves?

When we see the finished rooms, we can see why we probably haven't been talked through what equipment was available - it was all boring, because all the rooms look pretty much the same. A bunch of beds, repainted walls, and cleaner bathroooms. Wow. I'd hire these guys any time to sweep my garage. We get to see the 'transformations' through those before / after shots we've seen on every renovation show since the dawn of time. Way to extend the genre, Ten. A few of them have pinned up sarongs (or something) to the ceiling. Prachi claimed this trend was started by her. (Whinger. Totally.)

The team that stayed back during swimmergate is judged the winners. They're also the only team that used a patterned bikini to make a kind of feature wall panel. Interior designers, take note. The 'winners' get beer, which must then be shared with the rest of the group anyway. Well, that's a great prize. What happened to the time honoured reality TV tradition of giving the winners cool shit, which other contestants could then get jealous or resentful about? I note that the beer is Heineken. Mmm, Heineken.

Cruise Director then stands around and shoots the breeze a bit with the Flunkies. Although he has a broad Aussie accent, he's lived in Fiji for 20 years. Apparently, this is his qualification for standing around in a white hat and looking both authoritative and slightly bored. He should be used as the 'guide' of the Flunkies. A random flunky asks Cruise Director if he'll be helping with any of the work. Don't count on it, bucko.

The Resort
Reality Television marketing 101: Make the viewer pay!

Welcome. I was ridiculously entertained by the first episode of a new Australian reality TV show called The Resort. I plan to write long, overly descriptive recaps of the show, the marketing, and its various media incarnations. Please don't read if you're a relative of any of the contestants, or if you are in fact a contestant. Or the host. You can probably read it if you're an editor or a casting director though, because so far, I love your work.

This is a show, currently airing on Channel Ten, where a bunch of people with nothing better to do are sent to some island to live near a run-down resort. The contestants are given the tasks to renovate the resort, then manage and run the resort once the paying guests arrive. The show is called The Resort (Rule one: don't stretch the audience).

Contestants can vote each other out - either that, or some remote Powers that Be vote them out - I'm not sure. Eventually one, (or two or three?) are left. Probably at this point, the audience gets to vote who wins, because that's hip right now. And then the winner gets a banana, a recording contract, and a hosting gig on a cable show called "Horror Holidays: There's a weevil in my soup!". Yeah, I've got nothing. Look up the official site if you're actually curious. I'm sure they'll mention the grand prize all too often in the coming weeks.

The alleged twist is that you the viewer (yes! you!) can go to stay at the resort. That's right - you can be annoyed by these people on the TV, then you can go and be annoyed by them in real life, staying under their sub-standard management, getting filmed for the duration of your 'holiday', and then paying for the privilege. You can just hear some middle-management guy having this brainwave. Genius! because they get money from the advertisments during the show. And more money from the product placement of the sponsors. More money from the inevitable 'public voting' lines which I'm sure will be worked in somehow. More when 'you, the viewers' go and stay at the resort, essentially working as glorified unpaid extras. And finally, our last few dollars when they beat us to death in an alley and rifle through our pockets for loose change.

Why this show really has a claim to fame: they have done their casting homework. There are fifteen contestants (eight women, seven men). Of these, there are about five or six self-confessed 'leaders', about the same number of flamboyant personalities, five people who hate conflict, and six who have to have 'the last word'. In other words - they have assembled a team of people who will not, ever, work as a team. All we need is a few sharp knives and Jennifer Love Hewitt, and this show could turn into a "I Know What You Did Last Summer" reality special.

A few ground rules: as I find it hard to remember any of the contestants' names, I'll make most of them up as I go along. The contestants will collectively be known as 'Flunkies', due to their apparent willingness to do up a resort, and earn lots of cashola for a TV station, reaping only weekly humilation for themselves. Female contestants? Flunkettes. Male? Flunkers. Still with me? Awesome.

You don't have to watch the show. You don't even have to like reality television. You just have to marvel with me over the train wreck that is The Resort.