Asked how "reality TV" has affected her business, casting director Liz Ortiz-Mackes of Casting Solutions sums it up this way: "'Oy!' That's all I have to say." Then she adds seriously, "In a perfect world, casting for reality TV and casting for everything else would represent two separate activities, but today the line has become blurred." Ortiz-Mackes is made so uncomfortable by this "line blurring," she is almost secretive about her work on behalf of reality TV, keeping it, she notes, "discrete and anonymous." She will not say, for example, which reality shows she has cast.
To what extent her discretion is an expression of embarrassment is uncertain. Reality TV's cultural and economic impact notwithstanding, few would suggest that it has much artistic merit. That aside, Ortiz-Mackes stresses that her discomfort has several sources, including the percentage (admittedly small) of showbiz hopefuls who view an appearance on reality TV as a potential career steppingstone. Whether or not they're correct is another story; it may be premature to know. But one thing is certain, reports Ortiz-Mackes: "I now get postcards from actors telling me that they have been featured on one reality TV show or another. They see it as yet another acting credit worth mentioning."
As most industry insiders know, the overwhelming majority of reality-show participants are, like game-show players, plain folk in search of big prizes and that elusive moment of fame. Indeed, a frequent stipulation made by the producers of these programs is that the "performers" not be actors, union-affiliated or otherwise. The hosts of these programs, however, may indeed be actors (union-affiliated or not), and many are.
Back Stage talked with several casting directors and agents to find out their spin on the reality TV phenomenon and, specifically, what effect it has had on their jobs. The responses, not surprisingly, are mixed. Some are circumspect in their assessment, others less so. The most cautious are the networks' in-house casting directors.
NBC's Steven O'Neill, vice president of casting in New York City, points to the fact that NBC has a special alternative-programming department that handles reality TV. As for his own job, he maintains he has experienced no fallout from the growing presence of reality TV. "We are not being asked for more 'real people' types for prime-time series, if that's what you mean. And contrary to what some people might think, we're making no fewer pilots as a result of reality TV. It is true that fewer [scripted shows] will ultimately have a run and those that do may not last as long as they might have in the past."
ABC's Marci Phillips, associate director of primetime casting for the East Coast, echoes O'Neill's views, with the addendum that the field is highly competitive and if, in fact, reality TV programs are tapped over traditional series, perhaps it's because they are better.
Selective Casting's Carol Nadell, who focuses on casting industrials and instructional tapes, couldn't disagree more forcefully. She says, "Reality TV is not art. It's exhibitionism; it's narcissism. It's a travesty." Still, the New York City-based Nadell admits she has cast "American Idol" and "Apprentice" parodies for a couple of her industrials, so to that degree reality TV has had an impact on what she does. She tries to view it optimistically: "I would like to believe that if we are doing takeoffs of reality TV, it's a fad on the way out."
Not likely, if one judges by the 17 reality TV shows cited by USA Today as slated to air this summer, including programs with such titles as "I Want to Date a Race Car Driver" and "Scream Play," in which contestants compete for cash prizes by performing dangerous stunts from various films and TV shows.
For the talent agent, the bottom line with respect to reality TV is money, or, to be more precise, the loss of money. Put simply, the fewer programs employing legitimate actors, the more limited the agent's income.
According to Barry Kolker, an agent with the New York City-based Carson-Kolker Organization, an estimated 100 actors will be out of work this fall if, as planned, eight to 10 reality programs are telecast. "Clearly, some prime-time shows have a dozen or more regulars, others have only three or four. But if you do the math, and I have, approximately 100 actors won't be working," he reiterates. "That takes work away from agents. Obviously, I don't foresee a time when I will be representing reality TV participants, whose incomes are not commissionable."
It should be noted that, at least to date, participants on reality TV shows have not received salaries. At best they get a stipend. Would agents have a different spin if they could make some real money from reality TV?
No way, declares talent agent Carol Russo of Agents for the Arts. "Even if legitimate actors who are union-affiliated could appear on these shows, what would it possibly lead to? Appearances on these shows will do absolutely nothing for them."
Russo also has philosophical and aesthetic problems with reality TV that she cannot get past. "I have no objection to shows like 'American Idol' or 'Nashville Star.' They are talent shows, and although they may be cruel at times, they do introduce the participants to the realities of the business. Talent competitions have always been very popular and always will be. But what possible value do shows like 'Survivor' or 'The Apprentice' have?" she asks rhetorically.
"'The Apprentice' is not teaching business, as it claims, but rather manipulation techniques as a way to move ahead. In 'Survivor' and other shows like it, participants compete with each other to see who can demean themselves the most for those 15 minutes of fame, and on 'The Bachelorette,' two dozen men are competing to marry one woman and are then given $1 million if they stay married for a year. What are the moral issues that we are defining here?" She emphasizes, "Thanks to these programs, excellent TV shows that give actors real jobs are cancelled. The loss of these quality shows also has a tremendous impact on opportunities for new actors, who now have fewer chances to be even background players."
Interestingly, most of the agents and casting directors we interviewed do not believe that reality TV has redefined the casting requirements for prime-time series. In fact, casting for reality TV is just another example of what television has always demanded in almost all of its genres. ABC's Marci Phillips spells it out: "TV wants great looks and exceptional personalities. Compelling performers on TV, in whatever program, is nothing new."
How casting directors for reality shows find participants is new, however. The process is a far cry from casting for a prime-time sitcom or dramatic series, for example. "We cast a wide net," says New York City-based freelance casting director Nadette Stasa, who has helped cast "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." "Casting is often the result of word of mouth and our ability to network."
On the flip side, many participants track down the casting director through a reality program's website, which typically solicits potential players for the show. Not unexpectedly, for the hot shows, like "Queer Eye," there is no shortage of interested parties. The same cannot be said for those programs for which the payoff and the anticipated audience are more modest -- for example, some reality TV programming on cable.
"I went on radio to pitch what we were looking for on one of the reality shows I was casting," recalls Ortiz-Mackes. "I sent my assistants out to colleges, bars, and I did a lot of email campaigning. There is a reality TV online subculture. It's a seller's market [for the more modest shows] and I was engaged in guerrilla tactics."
By contrast, for the hotter shows, it's a buyer's market. Maura Tighe, of Maura Tighe Casting, based in Boston, admits that she receives between 100 and 150 online requests a day to appear on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," a program she casts. "We do not consider showbiz hopefuls, but just plain guys who are usually reluctant and sent to us by their wives. However, if we're looking for men of a particular profession, it's usually clear enough where we can find them. If we want a firefighter, we'll go to a firehouse."
Logistics and practical considerations play their role in reality TV casting, says Stasa, pointing out that for "Queer Eye," for example, "the participant must live within the shooting area. If we're shooting in Boston, he can't live in Minneapolis. And we also take into account his living situation. He can't live in a studio apartment because we need a control room for the equipment and he can't live in a sixth-floor walk-up."
She adds, "One of the important elements in casting for 'Queer Eye' and many other reality shows is the participant's story, or what we call 'the reveal.' We are not looking for some guy who wants to surprise his wife for her anniversary, unless there is some unusual angle. But the guy who has a high school reunion coming up and wants a makeover for that occasion might work."
The potential drama is built in: the makeover followed by the actual reunion, where old high-school buddies react to their classmate's change -- all of it unfolding in front of rolling cameras.
Reality TV has its roots in everything from Jerry Springer, to the old "Gong Show," to the "real people" trend in advertising, asserts everyone Back Stage talked with. How it will evolve is unclear. Some, as noted, would like to see it disappear. Others are willing to see it continue, but within more circumscribed parameters.
"Like one or two cable channels that would do nothing but reality TV," suggests Russo. "That way people who want to watch it can do so until they're blue in the face. Do I think that will happen? Who knows?"