USA TODAY International Edition
The bloom is off the rose of TV’s dating shows
It may be time to pull the plug on the popular genre, in light of the #MeToo movement. News & Views.
It’s time to stop giving out roses. The 14th season of “The Bachelorette” concludes Monday (8 EDT/PDT), followed immediately by the premiere of “Bachelor in Paradise” on Tuesday (8 EDT/ PDT, airing Mondays and Tuesdays for the following weeks). Although the roses, elaborate dates and limos are the same, it hasn’t felt like a typical “Bachelorette” season. The bachelorette in question, Becca Kufrin, was unceremoniously dumped in front of cameras by Arie Luyendyk Jr. in the most recent season of “The Bachelor” in a stunningly gross and exploitative piece of television. Then it was revealed that one of the contestants on “Bachelorette,” Lincoln Adim, was convicted of indecent assault and battery before he was cast on the show.
That’s hardly the stuff romanceloving viewers’ dreams are made of, and it’s matched by a further scandal on ABC’s newest dating show, “The Proposal,” in which men and women compete for an instant proposal. The network pulled an episode after one of the men on the show was accused of facilitating a sexual assault (before he joined the show).
The scandals and controversies are only worsened by our moment of cultural reckoning spawned by the allegations of sexual harassment and assault against Harvey Weinstein 10 months ago. So in the #MeToo era, doesn’t pretending that you can throw strangers together to find love and happiness seem dated? And, more pressingly, doesn’t it seem dangerous?
Reality dating shows have never been as rosy as they’re depicted onscreen. The vast majority of couples matched on “The Bachelor” have broken up since the cameras were turned off. Lower-rent dating shows on cable, including “A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila” or “Dating Naked,” have a deservedly trashy reputation for fights and drunken behavior. In the broader reality-TV landscape, the drunken head-shaving attempt on of “Top Chef” to sexual harassment on “Big Brother” have raised eyebrows.
Considering all the factors that go into making reality TV, from alcohol to producer pressure to the exploitative nature of the genre itself, it’s hard to believe this kind of environment can ever really be safe.
In the past year, dating shows have not escaped the #MeToo reckoning even within their own casts. In addition to this summer’s troubles, last summer’s “Paradise” production was halted after a producer worried there had been nonconsensual sex between contestants Corinne Olympios and DeMario Jackson. The incident didn’t lead to criminal charges, but it started the conversation about the ethics of reality dating months before #MeToo.
When “Paradise” addressed the scandal on-air, host Chris Harrison led the cast in a discussion about consent that was the most cringeworthy moment on a show engineered to produce them. The problem with dating shows is that they take all nuance out of the discussion of sex and love and consent, because to make them entertaining, everything has to be black and white: There are villains, sluts, virgins and fan favorites.
“The Bachelor” franchise has been on the air since 2002, and a lot has changed since then, and not just in sexual politics. Ratings for catty, drama-filled reality TV have ebbed, and schmaltzy, inspirational reality shows such as “America’s Got Talent” and “World of Dance” are dominating. The “Bachelor” franchise has been ripe for parody and criticism, skewered in Lifetime’s “UnREAL” and Yahoo’s “Burning Love.” And the way people find love has changed with the rise of dating apps such as Tinder and Bumble. Yet the “Bachelor” franchise marches on, largely unchanged.
There was a point when the watchability of shows such as “The Bachelor” was at its peak, as the idea that the contestants could find love was not yet a fool’s notion. Think of the first season of “The Bachelorette,” when Trista and Ryan seemed to genuinely fall in love over paintings and whispery dialogue. (The pair remains one of the few couples to get married and stay married).
But as much as these shows are positioned as simple escapes into a world of romance and sex, society is (finally) not treating those subjects as “simple.”
Maybe there’s a way to rework the “Bachelor” franchise to better vet contestants to ensure safety and to have more nuanced depictions of sex and love. (Sorry, there’s no hope for “The Proposal.”) But the easiest solution might be to eliminate the genre for a few years while we figure out how to talk about these issues in our everyday lives.
Because we’re certainly not going to find any answers while the cameras are rolling.