Self-assuring television

Where have all the ugly people gone? I know what a lot of you are probably thinking right now: Harvard. Yale. Perhaps. But the one place they certainly haven't been visiting lately is "reality-based" TV. The first episodes of the salacious Temptation Island -- a predicted cash cow for Fox in the reality show genre -- show only beautiful men and women in slinky bathing suits and sexy sarongs, many of whom have, naturally, left their lives as models to pursue medicine, law or, alternatively, massage careers. A couple of the beautiful people are Playboy models. One is "Miss Georgia." The men on the show are funky and sexy, with names like "Dameon" and "Maceo." One is a self-described musician. Another a "struggling artist." They are all painfully hip, with their Abercrombie hemp necklaces, Ken-doll hair and six-pack stomachs. The ugly people are nowhere to be seen. Hey, it's just like real life! Although most of Temptation Island's physical characters aren't exactly "realistic" when compared to the American norm (obesity, baldness, bad makeup), America is tuned in, frothing at the mouth to see people's lives fall apart. After all, where else can you see real couples break up without feeling bad about it? (C'mon, you have to admit you feel kind of bad for them on Springer.) The premise of Temptation Island? Four couples who have been in relationships for varying lengths of time are placed on an island near Belize with fantasy men and women whose sole goal is to break their relationships up. Or, as Fox cleverly puts it, "to test the strength of the couples' relationships," so as to stave off criticism from religious pundits who find its "amoral" content problematic. Party-poopers. The couples are separated at the island, with the men on one side quarantined alone with the fantasy women and the women on another part of the same island alone with the fantasy men. Both the fantasy men and women have been selected based on what each contestant in the couple had described to Fox as their "ideal" mate before the show began. If all works according to plan, disaster will strike, tears will fall, five-year-long relationships will terminate and we'll get to see really good looking people hook up. Some people's romantic lives will be ruined. Forever. As Montgomery Burns would sneer, "Exxxcellent." The fact that Temptation Island barely acknowledges the existence of ugly people is inconsequential and not particularly surprising. After all, "ugly" doesn't sell. (Ironically, bikini Speedos made for men over 70 sell rather well.) While the premise of Temptation Island may be somewhat disturbing and stupid, what's truly shocking about the show is the new genre it has created, even within reality TV shows. Watching someone else's real life fall to pieces has finally become genuine family entertainment. In German, there's a word for this: schadenfreude. It means "joy at someone else's misery." And it turns out misery sells -- as long as its not our own. But why do people really watch Temptation Island? Is it because we genuinely like watching other people be miserable? (Yes.) Is it because watching stupid television about stupid people make us feel smarter? (Yes.) Is it more fun to see good-looking people break up than ugly people? (Yes.) The truth of the matter is we watch it because it plays upon our greatest romantic fear -- losing someone we're in love with to someone better looking, smarter and sexier than we are. Temptation Island allows us to privately question our own relationships, either realizing how lucky we are, or how much we want "out" to play the field (or the Island, as the case may be). It allows us to play a delightfully frightening game of "what if" in our minds without actually having to go through with it. We watch it not because we're sadists seeking schadenfreude -- we watch it because we're looking to avoid our own misery by reassessing our own romantic lives. The only difference is we don't get music to go with it. And it's really cold in Philadelphia. While the show certainly isn't the most intelligent or moral program on TV, it gives us an opportunity to re-evaluate and assess our own lives. Maybe it's not that stupid after all. Besides, if a network really wanted to make a show that would allow us to watch people be miserable, they could do a better job of it. Picture this: take all of your boyfriend or girlfriend's exes. Now lock yourself in a room with them -- just you and the exes. Now that's television.

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