It's finally happened. Reality television has hit the lowest of all lows. Not even those who appreciate the genre for its humiliating and unintentional comedy could find anything redeeming in Fox's latest offering, The Littlest Groom. Unbearable to watch, this Bachelor for dwarves is both demeaning to the subjects on the screen as well as the viewers who watch it. The Littlest Groom, the byproduct of the marriage of The Wizard of Oz and The Bachelor, is one repulsive offspring.
Enter "Glen," your regular dating show bachelor. With short highlighted hair and a wide beaming smile, he seems to have an internal switch that can turn on the charm at a moment's notice. He is even wearing the DTD-patented uniform consisting of a blue dress shirt and blue tie. Everything is perfect, predictable even. Except, GASP, he's a "little person," all four feet and five inches of him, and so are his bachelorettes.
The conceit of most reality dating shows is to throw an atmosphere of humility and anticipation upon its participants. The nerds and fatties on shows such as Average Joe present a sympathetic caricature of everyone's inner "averageness," thereby making them the cheery underdog.
By contrast, The Bachelor and Bachelorette series thrive on providing a fantasy image of romance, unattainable by the rest of America because they can never be as attractive as the people on television.
Littlest Groom, however, does neither. Anyone who is not a "little person," cannot empathize with the women competing for Glen's heart. And no one will look at the diminutive cast and look at the resulting couple as a storybook romance. Instead, the Fox Corporation wants you to laugh at them and say, "Oh, how cute. Midgets can love people too."
This is not to say that some of the women on the show aren't cute, but it's not because all of them are below four feet tall. Their exuberant confidence shines through their small stature, provoking any viewer to ask why these otherwise beautiful and inspiring women would degrade themselves by being on a show like this.
When they are placed up against "regular" blonde and brunette bombshells, as they were during the series' premiere episode in a typical FOX-ian twist, it is impossible not to despise oneself for thinking, "Awww... that poor girl," as if she were a forlorn puppy.
Full disclosure is probably necessary at this point. While this reviewer may not be classified as a "little person," he is a more than a few feet from being your next Yao Ming. At 5 feet 5 inches, I'd stand a whole foot over Glen the Bachelor, and still, I can't help but feel he's been used.
In the case of most reality shows, viewers need not feel bad for making fun of the show's subjects because they are only on the show for greed, publicity, or just to have a good time. Here, all the characters seem to be serious about finding love. The Littlest Groom is a sad portrayal of the tough dating life among "little people," and to laugh at that is to be horribly cruel.
The "little people" cause, if there is such a thing, has made marked improvements over the last year, mostly due to the success of actor Peter Dinklage. While most people saw him in his hilarious comedic role as children's book writer Miles Finch in Elf, Dinklage generated widespread acclaim for his starring role in The Station Agent, an indie film with Patricia Clarkson. And while the gains made by Dinklage could be eroded by the success of a show like this, the chances of that are highly dubious.
By making it only a two-part series, even Fox obviously has very little confidence in a commercial success for The Littlest Groom. The second half of the series, airing next Monday at 8, in which Glen must choose between the three "average" women (all bound to be models of sorts) and five amazing "little" contestants, will probably be filled with the built-in drama of all other reality shows. However this time, there is no "joke" or guilt-free laughter, it's just a pathetic attempt at exploiting a people who were given the literal short end of the stick.
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