Welcome to Only in Reality... a series in which I explore the events, philosophies and positions that only exist or occur in Reality TV.
In today's edition we look at the crew position known as the Cast Wrangler.
Now, Cast Wranglers do pretty much what their title implies: they wrangle the cast. So, in any scenario, a Cast Wrangler is the point of contact between Production and the so-called Talent. However, exactly what a Cast Wrangler does differs depending on the genre of Reality they're working in.
On a show like The Bachelor (AKA Everlasting on UnREAL), that is, a Competition Show, the Cast Wrangler is pretty much a human herder. The first of these I met was a louche German we'll call Tristan whose every move seemed an expression of petulance. Tristan's responsibilities included: keeping eyes on cast at all time (even living with them); herding them to and from set; ensuring that none of them had somehow gotten access to a phone or computer or any other item with which they could contact the outside world; and spying on the cast and reporting their personal and interpersonal problems back to the Story Department. Tristan was one of those for-sure psychopaths I've worked with who took strange pleasure in denying cast members the right to speak or even pee.
However, on a show like Housewives or Love and Hip Hop (DocuSoaps), the Cast Wrangler is less of a prison guard and more along the lines of a Personal Assistant. They build a relationship with the cast members and massage their egos (no one gives a shit about cast egos in Competition). They ensure that cast arrives on set on time and in the right wardrobe (a big deal in Docusoaps where we often shoot story out of order). They also, like their Competition compatriots, spy and report back to Production on where the cast is at emotionally (we then take that info and develop story lines accordingly). On shows like Love and Hip Hop there is actually one Cast Wrangler per cast member (which is quite unusual) whereas on Housewives there is generally only one for the whole cast. The job is not only stressful but can actually be dangerous. One cast Wrangler I knew actually had a gun held to his head. He's still in Reality. Go figure.
Cast Wrangling is a thankless and soul-destroying job. Wranglers have to manage extremely difficult (and sometimes violent) personalities and deal with 2 am calls and texts. In fact, the Cast Wrangler on my current show may not be long for this production. She's burnt out from a relentless stream of self-important D-list celebrity cast and their non-stop shenanigans. Update: she quit.
In case you're wondering why you've never seen the credit Cast Wrangler on a show, that's because they are titled as anything from Production Assistant to Co-Executive Producer. I was once promised a Co-Executive Producer credit on a Housewives show (rhymes with - Have Mercy) if I did--basically--a Cast Wrangler's job. I thanked them for the kind offer, but replied that I'd rather stab myself repeatedly in the chest with scissors.
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." - Oscar Wilde
Showing posts with label Top Chef. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Top Chef. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Gwen and Blake May Be Dating (but they aren't Reality TV stars)
According to the gossip press (Lainey, dlisted, Celebitchy) Gwen Stefani and Blake Shelton from The Voice are dating. This would be more exciting if the selfsame people hadn't predicted in advance of Stefani joining The Voice, that NBC's PR department would hint at a potential love match between the two to boost ratings. So maybe they are and maybe they aren't, but the idea is appealing (if somewhat reminiscent of the last season of Nashville - I know, I surprise myself too.)
All that being said, the are-they-or-aren't-they dating bit is the only way in which The Voice is Reality. And the truth is that, while I have a passing interest in Blake and Gwen (I was once a twenty-something at a No Doubt show with 13-year olds, but I digress...), I have shamelessly seized upon this gossip factoid to raise a pet peeve of mine, which is, despite the mainstream media's claims to the contrary, The Voice, American Idol, and Dancing With the Stars are not Reality TV shows.
But, real people! But, prize! Like, like, Survivor!
Wrong.
Survivor and The Voice are as different as honey badgers and honey bees. Survivor is Competition Reality. The Voice is a talent show. Shows like The Voice (and Dancing with the Stars and Idol) are, as Sam Brenton and Reuben Cohen put it, "no more than an old television formula - the audition/variety show - repackaged with turn-of-the-century glitz." (And as addictive as popcorn.)
Competition Shows are social experiments, and have their roots in programming like Candid Camera. They take a "regular Joe/Joan," place them in a foreign situation, and see what happens. In the case of Competition shows this means contestants are isolated from their loved ones, housed (or put on an island) with strangers (usually cast to rub them the wrong way), and have their cell phones and computers taken away. To all intents and purposes they are prisoners of production. (On Dancing, by contrast, contestants come and go at will and on The Voice are even united with their families.) The isolation and imprisonment on Competition Shows places an additional burden on the contestants (beyond the burden of simply attempting to win).
The shows also have tight shooting schedules, so contestants work crazy hours (sometimes up to 22 hours a day), with the winner sometimes being not necessarily the best Survivor or House Guest or Chef but, rather, the person up to the rigors of production. The grind of the process basically reveals who these characters become when they have their backs against the wall (and they can't boo-hoo to their mommies).
So while the person (whether they be from Team Blake or Team Gwen) who wins The Voice may be the best singer/performer, the winner of Top Chef is not only the best chef, but the best chef able to perform 24 hours a day, while living with assholes, and having no recourse to familial support. See the difference?
So come on, Blakani, throw down or you ain't real.
All that being said, the are-they-or-aren't-they dating bit is the only way in which The Voice is Reality. And the truth is that, while I have a passing interest in Blake and Gwen (I was once a twenty-something at a No Doubt show with 13-year olds, but I digress...), I have shamelessly seized upon this gossip factoid to raise a pet peeve of mine, which is, despite the mainstream media's claims to the contrary, The Voice, American Idol, and Dancing With the Stars are not Reality TV shows.
But, real people! But, prize! Like, like, Survivor!
Wrong.
Survivor and The Voice are as different as honey badgers and honey bees. Survivor is Competition Reality. The Voice is a talent show. Shows like The Voice (and Dancing with the Stars and Idol) are, as Sam Brenton and Reuben Cohen put it, "no more than an old television formula - the audition/variety show - repackaged with turn-of-the-century glitz." (And as addictive as popcorn.)
Competition Shows are social experiments, and have their roots in programming like Candid Camera. They take a "regular Joe/Joan," place them in a foreign situation, and see what happens. In the case of Competition shows this means contestants are isolated from their loved ones, housed (or put on an island) with strangers (usually cast to rub them the wrong way), and have their cell phones and computers taken away. To all intents and purposes they are prisoners of production. (On Dancing, by contrast, contestants come and go at will and on The Voice are even united with their families.) The isolation and imprisonment on Competition Shows places an additional burden on the contestants (beyond the burden of simply attempting to win).
The shows also have tight shooting schedules, so contestants work crazy hours (sometimes up to 22 hours a day), with the winner sometimes being not necessarily the best Survivor or House Guest or Chef but, rather, the person up to the rigors of production. The grind of the process basically reveals who these characters become when they have their backs against the wall (and they can't boo-hoo to their mommies).
So come on, Blakani, throw down or you ain't real.
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