You know the torches I’m talking about. They’re shown on almost every reality show. Everywhere from The Bachelor to The Bachelorette, from Fear Factor to Joe Millionaire, from Average Joe to Average Joe 2, you will see those ominous torches, flickering away in solemn rows, usually signifying (along with kettle drum rolls) that someone is getting kicked off the show.
After all, what says "reality" more than the sight of native torches casting dramatic lighting while someone gets ritualistically hosed on national television?
That’s entertainment, folks.
When did the Tiki torch become the essential archetype of reality television, anyway? How did flickering flame become the sine qua non of this genre? Someone should do a scholarly study on the meaning behind those torches, along with other touchstone images common to reality shows.
But let’s stick to the torches. Most would probably locate their origin on Survivor, the mother of all reality shows, the one that actually took place on an island somewhere, thus making the torches kind of appropriate.
I asked my wife about the torches, and she said they were supposed to be "tribal." Yes, something about shifting shadows and the glint of gas flame does suggest decision-making at a basic "love you/hate you" level, I guess. In another context (Filipino movies, for example), Tiki torches might even be considered romantic. But for modern TV audiences, they apparently only suggest primitive voting rites.
Before long the torches showed up on almost every reality show, including Filipino entries like Extra Challenge and (I think) Pinoy Big Brother.
It’s just that here in the Philippines, the torches seem perfectly normal somehow.
After all, pyrotechnics are part of Filipino life. Not just the roasted lechon and the annual fireworks overkill, but the cultural shows that almost always end in a blaze of twirling sticks ’o fire. I recall a press trip to Seattle years ago, when Philippine Airlines was celebrating the purchase of some new Boeing aircraft. It was a nighttime ceremony, heavily lit by spotlights. There were the sleek new aircraft, proudly rolling out onto the runway. Strauss’ "Thus Sprach Zarathustra" (the theme from "2001: A Space Odyssey") began playing over the loudspeakers. And then, moments later, a batch of Filipino entertainers came out, dressed in native garb and – you guessed it – twirling sticks ’o fire.
I had another experience with torches that topped this one. My wife and I were attending a beachside "luau" party in Boracay a while back. There was a lightning storm brewing, but we tried not to notice. Tiki torches lined the beach, of course, but the pièce de résistance was when the lights suddenly went dead. We all thought: Great, a brownout, there goes the barbecue. And then – from high up above the nearby hotel – several bolts of flame came shooting down to the beach. Our thoughts immediately shifted to: Abu Sayyaf!! Terrorists!! RUN!!! But they actually turned out to be flaming arrows, shot by the hotel staff to strategically "light" the bonfire at the center of our party.
It doesn’t get any more spectacularly Filipino than that.
Try matching that, all you Tiki torch reality shows.
Since reality shows have somehow managed to work the torches into all their scripts (even Rockstar: INXS had them flickering up there at the LA mansion) I started to wonder if maybe the success of a TV project depended on Tiki torches. Maybe some shows would benefit from adding Tiki torches. Oprah Primetime may already be a hit, but imagine how many more people would tune in if the studio audience were backlit by beach torches? Certainly those news shows on CNN and the BBC could be improved by the Tiki torch effect – those drab anchors are crying out for some dramatic lighting. And then there’s The Apprentice, the one reality show that seems to be holding out on the trend. Could be that Tiki torches are just too downscale for Manhattan, or maybe Donald Trump is imposing enough without the torches. (I’ll have to look into this.)
There are other reality show archetypes – stock moments that have become part of the vocabulary of reality TV, such as:
• The slow motion "walk of shame." This walk away from the camera after ejection occurs on just about every reality show, usually accompanied by a voice-over from the loser crabbing about how some other contestant deserved the boot instead of him or her. Interviewing losers always makes for great television.
• The close-up horrified reaction shot. This gets down to the "tribal" nature of television, as predicted by Marshall MacLuhan long, long ago. Yes, we’re living in a global village, and when someone does something sick or horrifying or socially inappropriate on reality TV (like eating a pile of maggots, for instance), it’s necessary to cut to the reaction shot of another contestant, to amplify that, yes, that was indeed sick and horrifying and socially inappropriate.
• Pounding drums. Usually summoned for dramatic effect when somebody is about to have the boom lowered upon them, these are either tribal kettle drums or bass drum hits played on the soundtrack, punctuated by quick-cut edits ending with a close-up on the boom-ee, who is usually close to tears or otherwise looking really bummed.
• The backstabbing/backbiting/meltdown sequence. This is the meat and potatoes of reality television, ever since The Real World first invaded MTV. Certain people inevitably rub each other the wrong way, and this leads to lots of juicy interaction (once the offending party is off-screen, of course). The backstabbing scene cuts to the heart of tribal television, forcing us couch potatoes to figuratively cast our vote for or against someone we don’t even know. The "meltdown" sequence generally features lots of puzzled or bemused reaction shots from other cast members, who either saw it coming long ago, or are just as hypnotized by potential violence in the air as we TV viewers, safe at home, are.