“Reality TV” has become a dirty term in our culture. It brings to mind celebrity dance competitions with aged stars as irrelevant as a 1980s Walkman. It’s synonymous with the Kardashians and/or dead brain cells. It fails to match its intended meaning, kind of like “music television” or Fox News’ “Fair & Balanced.”
Even award-winning reality TV is often plagued by mediocre aspirations. “The Amazing Race,” winner of 13 Primetime Emmys, seems to be at its best when there’s a super-bitch contestant viewers can hate-watch. The Emmy-nominated “Dirty Jobs” is really most successful when the Ford truck dude wades in horse manure. In today’s TV culture, an award for “Outstanding Reality Competition” has basically become like a “Most Productive” award in the U.S. Congress.
But this past weekend at the True/False Film Fest, I felt hope for the future of the dwindling genre.
The world-famous documentary festival, a four-day event that puts real “reality” on display, was a brazen reminder that there is a passion out there for truth-telling. When I stumbled into my first film, I expected to see a handful of journalism nerds, out-of-towners and extra-credit seekers. I thought it would be lively but underwhelming. What I ended up seeing was vastly different.
People were piling into the auditorium like it was a Led Zeppelin reunion tour. I had to grab a seat in the balcony just so I could squint over the ecstatic crowd. But audience members didn’t even really get going until the film began. After Jesse Auditorium successfully stretched the definition of “maximum capacity” and the film started, the audience oohed and awed at every conceivable opportunity. Tremors of passion could be felt at every heart-wrenching line and jaw-dropping piece of raw footage.
It didn’t stop. At every movie of the weekend, from the festival’s grand opening to its even grander close, crowds of documentary-lovers packed into Columbia theaters and applauded every non-fiction effort. There were people who bought ticket packages weeks in advance while others stood in ticket lines reminiscent of Black Friday. It was a profound reminder that real reality is not dead; it’s alive and well.
And real reality there was. Tears came to my eyes at the affecting stories of snowboarders’ life-altering injuries in “The Crash Reel.” I was blown away at the subtle power of Sarah Polley’s personal life in “Stories We Tell.” My eyes were wide open at the candid account of third-trimester abortion providers depicted in “After Tiller.” These movies shined a light on places normally cloaked in darkness.
The powerful docs reminded me of the short-lived ABC docu-drama “Boston Med.” Back when the show first aired, around the time I was a junior in high school, my mother urged my sisters and me to gather around the TV. Even as a too-cool-for-everything teen, I found the program incredible. Viewers received an inside look at Boston’s three largest hospitals and the people who made them up. It was an undeniable force of nature with a personal, poignant touch.
I wish there were more non-fiction narratives like “Boston Med” on TV today. Yes, there are the old, crusting faces behind the still-going-strong “60 Minutes.” Yes, there’s the southern stereotype-reinforcing “Duck Dynasty.” Hell, there’s even “The Bachelor” if you’re into mediocrity. But reality TV has not reached its full potential — it hasn’t even come close.
If True/False has taught me anything, it’s that there’s still a genuine excitement out there for non-fiction narratives. There are people who want to see pure, unadulterated truth without the made-for-TV competition element. There are filmmakers passionate about the genre. After experiencing the world’s biggest documentary festival, I firmly believe we can reach a place in our culture where there’s no negative stigma associated with the phrase “reality TV.”
