Hotmail
Messenger
My MSN
MSN Directory
|
By Kate Mulcrone
Special to MSN Entertainment
If spring is a time of renewal then let's go ahead and call summer a time of reality -- reality television, that is. Reality shows have become such a dominant force in our culture that almost anyone can become a celebrity by convincing a producer or two that they're worth watching. Even though the idea is to be "real," it turns out you can learn how to be an arguably better version of yourself and increase your odds of getting cast on a reality show. How? By going to school.
Even though I'd rather perform surgery on myself than go on TV, I took part in a one-day workshop at the New York Reality TV School so that you could all benefit from my ... embarrassment. Admittedly, I was curious to see what the other students would be like. You have to be pretty serious about reality TV to shell out $139 and give up a Saturday, right? Like the woman I chatted with before class who told me she'd like to be on "America's Next Top Model." She was about 5 feet 5 inches tall, so I'm not sure it's in the cards for her.
Our instructor was Robert Galinsky, the school's founder, who, according to his IMDb page, played Fanatic Hassidic Jew in the 2001 film "Brooklyn Babylon." Other instructors included Robert Russell, who lent his expertise in the area of casting. He has cast shows like "Big Brother" and "The Bachelor." Jorge Bendersky and Dave Martin -- two former reality show cast members (Jorge was on "Groomer Has It" and Dave was a contestant on "Top Chef") -- were also on hand, to cover the whole "been there, done that" angle. Clearly, I was in the company of experts. Here's what I learned:
| D o you want to be the person who consoles the crier or the one who bags on her? Do whatever you want, just make sure you seize the moment and turn someone else's tantrum into some camera time for yourself. |
Reality TV School Is Kinda Like Preschool
Reality TV
School started bright and early -- OK, slightly before noon -- on a Saturday
morning. Most of the other people there looked like they'd gotten a good night's
sleep instead of staying out at the bar until pretty late. Ahem. The first thing
we had to do was stand around in a circle and introduce ourselves. Let's call it
show and tell, grown-up version. Most people were actors. One guy was a
contestant on "Deal or No Deal."
Another woman was about to shoot a pilot for a reality show based on her dating
life. After that we did some stretching to loosen up. Then we played a bizarro
game of Simon Says. Looking back, that was the easy part. I felt a little silly,
sure, but it would get worse before it got better.
Reality TV School Is Kinda Like High School
Remember high
school? Remember feeling self-conscious all the time? Well at Reality TV School
there were cameras everywhere. The smarter classmates seemed blissfully unaware
of them, but I felt myself freezing up every time my image was put up on the
video monitor. The dress I was wearing? Obviously too big now. Oops. The cut on
my arm from doing yoga outside -- don't ask -- well, it seems like it might be
turning into a scar. After Simon Says we had to dance around and introduce
ourselves to people. I don't think I've tried to dance sober since I was about
13 years old. It was hard. I gave myself an E for effort and retreated from the
"dance floor" as soon as I was allowed. Some people loved the camera, or maybe
the camera loved them. The secret seems to be an awareness of the camera and an
accompanying ability to ignore it. Some people were naturals: They danced around
like nobody was watching. The rest of us? Well, we probably won't be trying out
for "So You Think You Can
Dance" anytime soon.
Don't Worry About Things Flying at Your Head
After our
instructor cleared the dance floor, he had volunteers stand in the middle of the
room and talk to the cameras while the rest of us stood around and listened.
After about 30 seconds, the instructor had us bounce a tennis ball around the
room. It was OK at first, but once we were up to three tennis balls I completely
lost the thread of what our volunteer was saying. Bouncing balls are
distracting! I guess the lesson here is to ignore them, but that could quite
literally be painful. Some people seemed to be able to listen and catch and
throw at the same time, and I think this is what the rest of us were supposed to
learn to do. It makes sense: A reality show might look intimate at home, but
there are probably a minimum of five people with cameras or clipboards standing
just out of sight.
From there we moved from camera confessionals to casting calls. A dapper but unnervingly direct guy named Phil read out various casting notices from reality shows and people jumped in front of the cameras to "try out." We had two wannabe scream queens. The guy from "Deal or No Deal" talked about being in debt and seemed vaguely proud of it. Another woman talked about how a loan to her sister turned into a gift because, hey, sometimes that's life. Would these people have made the cut? I have no idea, but at least none of them got hit by tennis balls.
Sometimes Real Isn't Real
The fake casting calls hit a
hiccup when one woman stubbornly refused to look into the camera in front of
her. Phil yelled at her and she crumpled up the sheet of paper she was holding
and left the room. A minute later she was back for a second take. That one ended
in actual tears -- big, fake, crocodile tears. I don't know, I've always been
able to spot a fake crier. Trust me, it was my one shining moment of the day.
Most of the other people took the tears at face value, and one woman even rushed
to console the crying woman. A minute later, ol' Crocodile Tears confessed that
she'd been hired by the school to fake a tantrum. We discussed it. How did it
make us feel? A couple people admitted to being annoyed. The fake tantrum was a
lesson, though. Do you want to be the person who consoles the crier or the one
who bags on her? Do whatever you want, just make sure you seize the moment and
turn someone else's tantrum into some camera time for yourself.
Seriously, Reality TV School Is Kinda Like
Preschool
After the casting calls, we all settled back into our
seats for a little question and answer session. The big idea here? Be yourself.
See, just like preschool! Robert Russell said his biggest deal breaker when
casting shows is shyness, followed closely by lack of personality. He told us
that confidence is key and that it's crucial to make a strong impression on the
producers. Jorge Bendersky talked about how his Argentinean accent was a
liability on "Groomer Has It" until he made it work for him. "My accent means
you can't be on your computer or talking to someone else, you have to look at
me," he said. Fair enough. "Being on a reality show is like being the best
version of yourself for six weeks," he added.
I suspect that some of the "naturals" in the class will be returning to the
New York Reality TV School for the more advanced workshop. I won't be one of
them. Even so, I learned a lot at Reality TV School: I'm just as unsuited for
reality TV as I figured I was. I don't have a "big personality." I'm easily
distracted by cameras ... and tennis balls. I don't bust out with personal
information just because there's a camera in front of me. So, yeah, don't look
for me on the next installment of "The Next Food Network
Star" or "The Bachelor." I'm much more comfortable "being myself" in front
of a keyboard than in front of a camera.
Would
you attend reality TV school? Write us at heymsn@microsoft.com and let us
know.
Kate Mulcrone is one of the MSN TV bloggers.
