On the one hand, the main problem with these 100 videos are that they are so dreadfully, dreadfully dull, because there aren't really any "stories" in them. The Big Brother hopefuls, perhaps responding to the language of the modern pop TV profile, drown themselves (and us, along with them) in ultimately meaningless adjectives. Some were interesting (albeit, in a slightly disturbing way), such as the term "ADD" now becoming an acceptable descriptive (um, it's actually a mental disorder?!). But apart from these moments, everyone was simply "funny" and a "joker", "entertaining" and "the life of the party", or (oh dear, is that a generation gap between us?) "totally random". And these weren't just filling the three words on the profile, where they'd been asked to use such terms - most spent their two minutes rapid-firing out the same rubbish as the next fifty wanted me to know about themselves. I don't really know anything - truth be told, there didn't seem much there to know, with most of them. I didn't want an animated RSVP profile; I wanted them to use those two minutes to tell me something about themselves - something interesting. Goddamit, I wanted them to be interesting! But, on the whole, they were everyday Australians, who are supposedly funny, entertaining, and, like, totally random. Yaaaaawn. And, yes, yes, that's the show, in this country. It's not like European versions, where the show is angled at putting rare individuals under the lens; this is "entertainment" based on vicarious connection between the audience and the housemates. Most of those top 100 were there
because there wasn't anything to them. They're ordinary. Most people are.
Were there real stories in there? Were there the kind of people who those who champion a more European feel ask for, instead of Pretty Inc™? Yes, actually, there was. There were many more - somewhat tellingly - outside the top 100 (I've decided to focus instead on this final group, because it is from these, that winners will be picked), but even so, there were a handful (nothing more) of people who had three-dimensional lives, and whose stories crushed all those who were, like, totally random. They were the kind of people I wouldn't mind having a latte with; some of them, the kind of people I've known before; and all the kind of people who, from their difference, can show you the scope of this thing called human nature. For far too long, I've heard one of the staple retorts of Big Brother fans in response to the criticism of the show's archetypes; "But human beings really are all that similar." How very sad, if that's what you truly believe. Yes, many are quite similar - it's nothing to brag about, as such - but true beauty, to me, has always lied outside the norms of the herd. If Big Brother was a platform for this, well, I'd be a very different kind of spectator. But, it's not. I'm not. And these people filled me, simultaneously, with a great relief and a strange dread.
Take
Peta , for example (you should click the link, there, and watch it before reading on - she does a great plot twist). In contrast to the endless dribble of "I'm a waitress who really loves to meet people at clubs and shag most of them", etc, etc, this transgender beauty therapist (at least this is her profession - she has one of the BB cliches, there!) has the kind of presence that you would expect of someone with a real story to tell. And I don't mean in that cheap Star Quality™ way; she's partly so perfect because, on the one hand, she is someone who seemingly lives in an everyday world. But she presents herself with a charming ease, and an endearing sense of compassion that one would expect from someone in her situation. Can you imagine what Peta has to offer? More than her breasts.
The problem being that if you're a run of the mill BB voter, you probably just chuckled to yourself at the potential innuendo of a comment about breasts in regards to a transgender. You wouldn't have been able to let the opportunity slip, would you? And that's precisely my problem.
"Just by me being myself in the house, you might learn something about what it's like to be a transexual woman," Peta says with an honourable integrity. Hmmm, maybe. Of course, we should remember that in BBUK (worlds apart, in so many ways), a transexual has already been crowned a winner. But in the sunburnt country, where Big Brother has become the fodder du jour for every last drop of adolescent mob cruelty?
And yes, Zach nearly won (I know a few of you were thinking it). But Zach, as I'd noted all along, was perfect, partly because he was so happy to be a kind of two-dimensional carricature, an utterly unconfronting camp comedy. His "lesson", paper thin as it was, didn't extend beyond a superficial acceptance - a kind I found more akin to the class clown, than to any real understanding and compassion generated by his story. Peta is no such story. Zach was happy to be the butt of gay jokes, happy to be the Camp Fag™. Peta's social expectations?
"I just want to be treated like every other girl in the house. I don't expect anything more. But I won't accept anything less."
In the Big Brother house? And, beyond the walls, with the Australian public? I'm sorry, but there's a shiver that just ran down my spine. Nadia, let us not forget, thought particularly low of the Australian Big Brother experience, and the celebrity intrusion of Miriam, easily the worst example of reality television exploitation ever conjured, saw a transexual being used for a condescending plot-twist. Peta, Peta, Peta. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.
And what about
Jeremy ? This is easily the audition tape I've heard most about. It generally goes along the lines of, "I hear they've got a Dwarf™ in there, this year!" Add that to the Transexual™, I suppose. Or
Andrew , who is (admirably, in so many ways) indefinably strange. I guess that just makes him a general kind of Freak™, then. All these people would, on the face of it, make Big Brother 2008, a seriously revived format. But to what purpose? Would it just be a freakshow? I'd imagine so. However many of these off-centre individuals the show throws into the arena, they will be, nonetheless, beside the The Dashing Young Model Partyboys™ and FHM Sluts™ - that much is assured, and we can probably imagine they'll be in larger numbers. So long as this is the case, it will kick the collectivism in, and we'll just end up with the cruelest playground we've ever had on our screens. The context could make a difference, but one wonders if Kyle Sandilands is going to bring any social depth or compassion to the proceedings. Did I just say "Kyle Sandilands" and "compassion" in a single sentence? I probably shouldn't have.
By the end of my morning adventure into the top 100, I confess I hit the last page and became tempted to skip the remaining ten (picture my anguish, after having sat through my ninetieth video, if you can). But then, I came across
EM , who I have an inkling isn't exactly a stranger in these parts of cyberworld.
"The media is dumbing us down," thinks EM (in four times the dialogue than anyone else uses their space for - which is fine by me). "We need to see people that question The Machine™, that have compassion, strength and honesty without an agenda. Unforced personalities that make you think and question life. Id like to think that's me."
Well, I'd like to think it's me, too. But, since it's clearly also you, perhaps you can throw down the gauntlet for about 90% of the people who come to that "other" website of mine (the other 10% only go there so they can, like, join in the discussions about how it's not worth discussing - how random!). You don't appear to have any blatant bruises (they're never good to pack in your luggage, when going to the Big Brother house), and whilst I imagine your line, "I'm not even sure if I'm auditioning" is a kind of quasi-apathetic pose I can understand, underneath it, you clearly have a plan. Sounds like a good one, to me. Can't hurt, right?
Except, of course, it can. So, if your "uncertainty" is more sincere, fair enough - there's some things worth thinking about. I'm prepared to put aside the dread I feel for the likes of transexuals who expect only to be treated like every other woman; but first, let me ask you, what is it, exactly, that you expect? Say, you get that call, and you're on your way. Have you stopped, yet, to consider the two sides of the coin? Yes, yes, you can see the triumphant version in your head (everyone on that website can, after all). But what if you get a very different story? Have you imagined that, yet?
You wave goodbye to five thousand screaming bogans, and you arrive in a small space to realise that you're to share it with 11 pretty, vacant, potentially somewhat cruel, 20-somethings. Bugger. You thought they'd put in a crowd with slightly more substance (but what men's magazine would pay them, then?). And, so, you get about your business, anyway, and you try to break through to your housemates, and connect, and reveal the depth you're convinced must surely be there (if only they knew it). But, they don't like you. You talk too much about silly, emotional things, and you speak about the media as if you're one of those loopy Michael Moore conspiracy types. Whaddya mean, the media dumbs people down? Who are you calling dumb? They don't want to connect to you, thankyou very much; you push your loopy ideas on them, when they're just trying to lie by the pool and look hot.
And so, they reject you. Yes, you're smarter than they are - smarter than the rejection of a herd. And yes, you've got their number. But so what? There's a bunch of them, and only one of you. Well, except for that Freak™ who has, naturally, happily accepted you - but that's not going to help you. They move to eject, and the public complies. Time to go, EM. You are released into the wrath of Kyle Sandilands, where, watching a giant screen, you realise that none of your monologues have made primetime, anyway, and the rest has been taken out of context, to capitalise on the rejection that made a fortune off your evict votes. For the next month, The Machine™ owns you, and you're dragged from RSL to RSL, where drunk bogans happily tell you what a fuckwit you are, before seeing if they can score a root with the celebrity guest.
Is that okay with you? Because as long as it is, then full steam ahead, as far as I'm concerned. Because you never know, you get past this hurdle, and it just might work out. Keeping in mind that you'd be a good way to keep various critics following the show (perhaps even - gasp - supporting an element of it), I'd say you're in with a chance. You're not going to take the series out (you know that), but you may ride it long enough to create a beneficial narrative for the 2008 season. I think that'd be pretty cool.
And so, after far too many hours with far too little left from the experience, someone caught my... well... eye. In a good way. In the dying moments of a fairly lacklustre promotion, The Eye officially casts his vote, in the dying minutes of his own quest. How very, totally random.
