The Internet is a crazy thing. Last year, when tuftsdaily.com switched to a new host, the company's software came with an option for online readers to post feedback. So it was through this technology that I happened to fall ass-backward into an interview with television producer David Broome.
In last week's column, I made an idiotic omission when I discussed the NBC reality program "The Biggest Loser." I wrote about my overwhelmingly negative thoughts about the show, without mentioning that they were all based on the advertisement campaign promoting the show. Mr. Broome, in a surprising display of protectiveness, posted a passionate defense of his show. He even invited me to interview him after I had viewed the first episode of "The Biggest Loser." You can still see the feedback online, if you missed it. For the record, I would also like to publicly apologize here for making those assumptions.
To say the least, I was both intimidated by and proud of Mr. Broome's feedback. On one hand, I had really ticked off a producer in Hollywood and, on the other, I was noticed by a producer in Hollywood. Naturally, I had to pursue the interview. This was an opportunity I couldn't pass up.
Now, after the interview and watching the episode, have I changed my thoughts on "The Biggest Loser?"
Not really. It reflected my feelings toward reality programming.
Mr. Broome was correct on one thing, however: His show is not manipulative. It didn't poke fun at its overweight contestants and was not even close to the repulsiveness of "The Littlest Groom." That was an exceptionally low blow. As I explained to Mr. Broome, I still felt like a voyeur watching "Loser," with the guilty baggage that comes with it. The heated exchange followed:
Broome: Anytime you watch a reality show, there will be that aspect. Do you watch any other reality shows?
Me: I enjoy "The Amazing Race" and the "Apprentice," but I think they are different in the sense that the contestants don't suffer from a physical disability.
Broome: If you call a weight issue a physical disability, I take issue with that, regardless of their weight. We are changing these people's lives. Are you aware of some of the health issues with obesity? Some of the contestants came in with asthma or diabetes. In many cases, it is like we've cured them.
When referring to weight issues as a "physical disability," I was referring to some of the contestants who were severely obese. According to the American Obesity Association, a lobbying group on behalf of obese persons, obesity is a "chronic disease with a strong familial component." In addition, the organization states on their Website that obesity "can inflict bodily pain and affect
normal daily activities"
I have a genuine respect for Mr. Broome. The man was clearly passionate about his profession and for his show. Anyone who shows that kind of relentless enthusiasm in the entertainment business is like a Tufts freshman who doesn't compare SAT scores: noteworthy and impressive.
Over the course of the interview, I came to realize that Mr. Broome's fervor came at a cost; he seemed unable to empathize with his critics. For instance, the one question which I felt I had to ask Mr. Broome was, "How can you defend calling the show 'The Biggest Loser?' Yes, I understand the pun. But still ... they couldn't find anything better?"
Mr. Broome responded, "You have to realize: we're trying to cut through [to our viewers]. If I called the show 'The Diet,' how many people would turn in? You're essentially judging a book by its cover."
That last jab would be repeated by Mr. Broome continuously throughout the interview, along with accusing his critics of "jumping to conclusions," which gave me visual images of "Office Space." And he's right. The title "The Biggest Loser" and its ad campaign elicited strongly negative reactions in myself and other social commentators who heard about the show.
Mr. Broome countered, "A title is just a title." I disagree. In today's world of hundreds of cable channels with countless options for nightly viewing, a title matters. NBC is a business - which I'm sure Mr. Broome knows because he receives a paycheck from them. Any network has an obligation to its bosses and shareholders to bring in viewers, but NBC is especially in dire straits considering "Friends" and "Frasier" are gone and "ER" and "West Wing" are in the ICU.
The title, "The Biggest Loser," is memorable because of its negative connotation,and is bound to generate controversy. Controversy brings viewers, viewers bring advertisers, advertisers bring money to NBC and NBC cuts a check to its employees.
Reality television thrives on promising spectacular drama, and the ad campaign hyped up a show with overweight people crying and grimacing from pain. After seeing those ads, in the context of finding the "Biggest Loser," I'm not supposed to recoil in disgust?
There I go again. Jumping to conclusions. Can you blame me? As I said last week, reality TV is predicated on the "belief in the worst." Mr. Broome says, "I guess anyone who wanted to see the bad part of reality television saw the [negativity]. That's their fault for coming to that conclusion." Does he mean that he expects television watchers to forget the past four years of programming? If he were to create and produce a teen soap opera, would I be "jumping to conclusions" if I thought that sexual matters would dominate the show?
One last thought: In part because the show was not manipulative, "The Biggest Loser" was a boring and contrived Dr. Phil episode disguised as a reality program. Mr. Broome made it clear in his comments that his show was, "about changing people's lives." If this were truly the case, there would be no elimination of contestants and home viewers would be given a clear explanation of the health advantages and risks of the diets shown on the screen. In response to my criticism of the elimination component, Mr. Broome said, "At the end of the day, it is a game."
I have enormous respect for Mr. Broome and his passion, but to hope the American public, college columnists included, won't judge a television show by its "cover," is a disappointing display of idealism.
