Celluloitering

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Sunday, December 16, 2007

Why I Hate "The Real Housewives of Orange County"

I don't usually write informal rants but certain shows ignite my wrath. One of those rare shows is The Real Housewives of Orange County, a reality program alluding to both The O.C and Desperate Housewives featuring a bunch of "real" women living in a gated community in Orange County, California. The show touts itself as a real-life counterpart to The O.C. If anything, it is a lot closer to Nip/Tuck. The ladies on this program are as stretched, tanned and cured as the leather of their Hermes bags. In addition, they are boring. And tacky. Let's look at some of the episode descriptions. "Kimberly discusses the option of breast implants." "Kimberly is being pressured into upgrading her car." "Vicki attends her high school reunion." "Lauri puts her townhouse on the market." "Jeana and Kara consider posing in mother-daughter pictorial for Playboy." All of this excruciating analysis of the modern condition would be great if it were scripted by Edward Albee or John Guare. Sadly, however, the only script here is the rambling narration of five histrionic, spoiled women and their stupid self-centered families. It could have been saved from total worthlessness if its content possessed some--any--glimmer of irony. But no, sadly The Real Housewives is as serious as a dirge. Watching it, I get angry. This is not simply a program that I do not care for. No, this is personal. The Real Housewives has moved me out of the realm of pop culture critic and into a terrifying new space. I hate this show. HATE. My feelings of loathing and nausea associated with simply watching a commercial for Real Housewives is a mystery even to me. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I do not understand why so many people think these women are interesting to watch. I do not understand what is happening to television when The Real Housewives gets a third season. I sit at home, quietly enjoying Inside The Actor's Studio or Project Runway when I see a little ad run across my screen reading "Now even more Botox-y! Watch The Real Wives of Orange County!" I know I totally sound like Andy Rooney right now, but is that supposed to be funny? Who watches this? Please, I urge you, if you are a fan of the show and come across this blog, leave me a comment on why you watch it. I need to know. Because it is a bizarre phenomenon, like a bridge into some Ray Bradbury story where we all have our own shows and everyone watches each other 24-hours a day. Call it what you will--Horror show, Harbinger of Doom, Omega Reality Show, Time Capsule of the Bush Era or Rome Before the Fall-one thing's for certain: if this is what life is going to be like without television writers, I say give the WGA everything they want.