The purpose of reality shows: Selling dreams

The purpose of reality shows: Selling dreams

Ardimas Sasdi, Jakarta

Jamhuri, a fisherman, lived in a humble house with his wife
and two children in a hamlet in Semarang, Central Java. The
family had long dreamt of having a decent house to live in, but
the dream only materialized when a crew from a TV reality show
showed up one day last month.

On that fateful day, a female crew member from the show,
driving a BMW, visited the Jamhuris in their modest house. After
introducing herself and the purpose of her visit, the woman, clad
in denim trousers and a T-shirt, told Jamhuri that said she
planned to repair his house -- of course, at her company's
expense.

Not believing at the offer, Jamhuri and his wife stood
perplexed for some time, then gently nodded after looking to each
other for approval. Still dumbfounded, the family was then taken
away in the luxury car to a four-star hotel, where they stayed
until the repairs were completed.

Minutes after leaving, a dozen or so workers in uniforms
arrived to do the makeover of Jamhuri's house. A truck rolled up,
loaded with building materials and equipment required to do the
work.

Twelve hours later, the simple family were taken back to their
home by the TV crew. The Jamhuris were greeted like VIPs on their
return by their neighbors -- some of whom must have been
intensely jealous of the lucky family -- with everything being
filmed by the TV crew. The house had been totally reconditioned
-- new doors, ceilings installed, floors fitted with ceramic
tiles, and walls repainted in European colors. And the little
kiosk used by Jamhuri's wife to supplement their meager income
was redesigned. The house was filled with new furniture and
electronic items.

This was a brief scene from a "reality" TV show called Bedah
Rumah (Home Makeover). The show, a product of a popular trend
among local television stations at the moment, is aired by RCTI
at 6 p.m. every Sunday.

There are very many other so-called reality shows being shown
on local television, some of them highly sought after, and range
from programs about supernatural powers to music. Among them are
Trans TV's Uji Nyali (Test of Courage), RCTI's Uang Kaget (Quick
Money), SCTV's Harap Harap Cemas (Hope and Fear), ANTV's Penghuni
Terakhir (Last Resident) and TV7's Buset.

Most of the shows aired by local broadcasters were produced by
external production houses, including Bedah Rumah. This system of
production helps TV stations cut costs, and also provides a
convenient excuse to evade responsibility when "accidents"
happen.

A striking example of such an "accident" was the Candid
Camera-like show called Membikin Orang Panik (Making People
Panic), which claimed the careers of police officers from a
police station in Kebon Jeruk, West Jakarta. In an episode aired
by RCTI on May 26, First Lt. Sunarjo helped the crew of the
Avicom production house "arrest" Piko, a university student, by
framing him on charges of possessing a knife and a large quantity
of marijuana. Upset by the involvement of his personnel in the
show, which also sparked a public outcry, the Jakarta Police
chief sacked Sunarjo and reprimanded his colleague. But RCTI's
reaction was lamentable, merely saying that, "We deeply regret
the incident".

Woe also befell Trans TV, which was sued by a woman for
unpleasant and felonious acts, over the production of a show
called Paranoid. In one scene the woman was among people who were
scared out of their wits by "ghosts" and other macabre beings.

Physical harm is just one of many potential hazards of these
reality shows, which are usually aired by TV stations during
prime time and packaged in attractive ways to raise their
ratings.

Some of the shows even promote supernatural beliefs, such as
LaTivi's Pemburu Hantu (Ghostbusters) and Trans TV's Dunia Lain
(Other World) and ANTV's Tuyul Millennium.

The screening of these types of shows -- adding to the
existing voyeuristic "crime reporting" programs shown by local
television -- is not only 'uneducational' but also extremely
unhelpful in a country where education levels are so low. The
head of a Yogyakarta hospital psychiatric ward, Soewadi, said
that the number of people suffering from delusions and symptoms
of schizophrenia in the city was on the rise lately, partly due
to frequent exposure to supernatural reality shows on television.

Other reality shows, like RCTI's Indonesian Idol, similar to
the U.S. American Idol, Indosiar's Akademi Fantasi Indosiar (AFI)
and TPI's Kontes Dangdut Indonesia (KDI), at least have some
educational value for the contestants. In these shows,
participants must undergo rigorous testing and training organized
by people expert in their fields. But even these programs, which
have driven parents hungry for name and fame to push their
children to join the contests, are riddled with moral
shortcomings.

Winners were selected by viewers, not by experienced juries.
Support for a contestant was conveyed via Short Message Service
(SMS), and such support was usually based upon the contestants
home town rather than their talent. Each SMS message cost between
Rp 2,000 (US 21 cents) and Rp 3,000, far above the normal rate of
around Rp 300.

The number of SMSs received by TV stations for these programs,
commonly run over four months, varies, but the three TV stations
concerned said they received between 2 and 4 million SMSs.
Indosiar reportedly received Rp 4.5 billion in income from SMS
messages alone, which was shared between the TV station, the
telephone companies, and the providers handling the SMS flow. The
problem with this is that the majority of people sending these
messages are by no means wealthy, but rather low-income people
easily influenced by primordial links with the participants.

Television stations also received income from advertisements,
from proceeds from sales of tickets to the shows, as well as from
cassette and CD sales.

Realizing that the public have to some extent woken up to this
exploitative business, some TV stations now offer prizes to woo
viewers into sending SMSs. But the most serious moral quandary is
that these shows sell dreams of instant success, which of course
is far from reality -- except in very rare cases such as Jamhuri
and others.

The author is a staff writer at The Jakarta Post.