BIG BOTHER
Love it or hate it, it looks like reality TV is here to stay. But when it comes to disability, does television really reflect reality?
We’ve seen a rash of debate recently about ‘real-life’ disabled people on TV – from the controversy surrounding the Crippendales documentary on a troupe of disabled strippers to the discussions about whether a disabled contestant would appear in this year’s Big Brother. Whatever your views, it’s fair to say that conversations about reality TV will be unavoidable for the next few months, with Big Brother in full swing and silly season well underway.
Big Brother 8 hit our screens in late May but the rumour mill was grinding weeks in advance, with media reports that one housemate would be a disabled woman. That rumour stayed a rumour because, as Able magazine went to print, the house remained apparently disability-free (although with new housemates being added faster than they’re kicked out, who knows what might happen?). All the same, it would have been interesting to see the rumour come true, especially after the success of ‘Touretty celebrity’ Pete Bennett in last year’s contest. We spoke to Pete soon after the new series launched, and he was disappointed by the early line-up: “They should’ve put someone in who’s a bit different,” he said. “There are some really different and amazing people out there– they should get on the show.”
However, it’s been fairly obvious for the last seven series that the chances of a physically disabled or sensory impaired person being included in the Big Brother house were slim. How would a wheelchair user manage all those stairs to the front door? Would Big Brother provide a British Sign Language interpreter for a deaf person in the diary room? If Big Brother is a ‘social experiment’ whose contestants are chosen to reflect society, then surely adding one or two disabled people into the mix would make for a truer representation of the UK population? Including a disabled contestant could also make a statement about Channel 4’s belief in diversity and equality (potentially a good PR move after the recent controversial race rows) – although Pete commented: “Maybe there wasn’t anyone interesting enough who did an audition. Or maybe they’re trying not to be so controversial since the Jade Goody [racism] thing.”
If someone with a disability entered the house, Big Brother could potentially do a lot to change views and increase understanding of disability issues. Last year, Pete Bennett presented the human face of Tourette’s Syndrome, helping to normalise something that viewers might otherwise consider different or strange, and a contestant with a physical or sensory impairment in this year’s Big Brother could have had a similar positive effect on the great British public’s perception of disability. But with reality TV providing such a ‘fish bowl’ viewing experience in artificially intense conditions, is it the best medium to represent the true reality of life with a disability or could it brush too close to exploitation?
A BEAUTY PAGEANT WITH A DIFFERENCE
Try to combine the stinging criticisms of the X Factor judges and the constant preening of the Big Brother contestants and you might start wondering how a talent contest judged solely on looks would fare on TV. Of course, we already have this in the infamous Miss World, but in Holland – the birthplace of Big Brother, no less – TV producers decided to launch a pageant with a difference by setting up a beauty contest just for people with disabilities. Miss Ability began in 2006 and is a one-off live programme during which viewers text in to vote for their winner. The advertising for the show reads: “Ever whistled at a woman in a wheelchair? Checked out the boobs of a blind babe? Flirted with a gal who has difficulty walking? If the answer’s no, this barrier-breaking show will put an end to that.”
Miss Ability has drawn harsh criticism, not least because it only selects women with obvious physical disabilities who are still conventionally attractive. One commentator, Kay Olson, wrote in her blog: “It goes without saying that the best woman in this contest will not discuss […] incontinence or lack of civil rights. She won’t drool but she won’t hide her limp either, because the audience needs to see that.” The winner of last year’s contest, Roos Prommenschenckel, has done a lot for disability rights in Holland. Upon taking the winner’s crown she also became an ‘Ability Ambassador’, addressing the Dutch parliament on disability issues, and she also received an award from Holland’s Prime Minister. This year’s show, which took place in June, saw Reni de Boer winning the contest after being watched by 986,000 viewers. The programme has proved enormously popular in the Netherlands, enjoying an 18.6% audience share – it even featured an appearance from American Idol judge Paula Abdul, who said she’d be delighted to host a US version of Miss Ability. But it’s easy to see why not everyone is comfortable with the concept of the programme – for starters, many people think beauty contests are outdated and sexist. The inclusion of a swimsuit round in Miss Ability – which the producers have described as “the final taboo for a lot of people” – just adds to the cringe factor. Whatever your thoughts, it looks like British viewers will soon get a chance to choose their own Miss Ability, since the rights to broadcast the programme in this country have already been purchased.
In the same vein, viewers of the BBC’s SeeHear programme may have caught the recent show about the first Miss Deaf UK contest. The competition appeared to become an exercise in how not to organise a beauty pageant and served to highlight the public’s lack of awareness around hearing impairment. Miss Deaf UK started out as a small event which would be held in a local community hall, with the intention of raising deaf girls’ self esteem. But then PR staff got involved, stylists offered to provide their services and celebrity judges were invited along, and the whole thing went belly-up. The venue was changed at the last minute to a nightclub with low lighting, stylists shouted at contestants in the belief they’d be able to hear instructions, and one of the celebrities attempted to lead the (mostly deaf) audience in a rendition of New York, New York. Organiser and deaf studies student Nikki Goba told us: “Some of the girls ended up getting upset. The celebrities involved knew there would be deaf people there but it turned out they were not very deaf aware.” Nikki hopes the event will run again next year, but administrated by a panel of deaf organisers who can maintain more control and be more assertive about contestants’ needs.
EXAMINING DISABILITY AND SEXUALITY
It’s clear from the minor disaster that Miss Deaf UK became that some people’s understanding of sensory impairment is minimal but the programme had at least a degree of positive impact. “I’ve had emails from the hearing public who watched the programme and they’ve learned a lot from it,” says Nikki. But we should question why we need disability-only beauty contests in the first place – after all, a deaf woman won Miss America in 1995, so it’s clear that hearing impaired people at least can be recognised in ‘mainstream’ beauty pageants too. But when it comes to more obvious and ‘less attractive’ physical disabilities, the catwalk to equality is a long one. Anything that stimulates debate around disability and raises awareness has surely got to be a good thing – and even though we’re not all necessarily comfortable with beauty contests, a blogger on US women’s rights website Feministing (who has Cerebral palsy herself) commented on Miss Ability: “In terms of the zeitgeist, this is actually possibly a step in the right direction. It’s not far to go from accepting disabled people as sexual objects to recognising them as sexual beings.”
One programme which has arguably done just that is The Crippendales, a documentary on an all-male stripping troupe which recently screened on Channel 4. The men involved have a range of disabilities including blindness and spinal injury, and the programme, although only 30 minutes long, takes an interesting look at issues around disability and sexuality. Its director, Havana Marking, wanted to tackle these key issues without going down “the campaigning and complaining” route. “I’d heard a joke by Mat Fraser about a group of disabled strippers called the Crippendales and that got me thinking,” she explains. “I knew there was a TV angle for the concept but I had to take a slant that wasn’t salacious.” Havana got in touch with Lee Kemp – a wheelchair user who had recently been a runner-up in a competition to find the sexiest man in Yorkshire – and set the Crippendales wheels in motion by recruiting other dancers, choreographing a routine and choosing outfits. The programme ends with the boys performing the ‘full Monty’ in front of an audience of screaming women at a famous strip club, where they were greeted with rapturous applause.
The live audience may have been appreciative but when she and Lee went on national radio to discuss the programme, Havana was taken aback by the number of people who expressed disgust at it (many of whom had no doubt not even seen the show). Clearly the documentary addressed a few taboos, but Havana is quick to dismiss claims that she exploited the men: “I’ve worked in TV for 10 years and have been involved in putting a lot of people on television,” she says. “Never once has anyone asked me if I thought I was exploiting those people – until I was dealing with disabled people.”
AGAINST THE ODDS
Regardless of a few negative reactions, which she puts down to outdated views that disabled people shouldn’t have sex lives, the short film won critical plaudits, including Best International Documentary (Short) at the New York Film and Video Festival. Havana was thrilled with the finished product, which shows disabled people laughing and having a good time rather than presenting them in a ‘triumph over adversity’ story: “In a way, Crippendales was ‘against the odds’ stuff too, but it was funny and that’s what I’d always wanted. There were very serious issues at its heart, like sex, disability and the basic rights of disabled people in that area.” Havana believes the programme broke down barriers and challenged people’s perceptions. And that’s not all the film achieved – the men involved have benefited from the publicity and the experience itself, with Lee touring universities to discuss disability issues and other members of the Crippendales enjoying greater confidence and offers of acting and modelling work.
Whether you’re totally in support of putting a wheelchair-using contestant in the Big Brother house or you see the idea of a beauty contest for disabled women as a step back for disability rights, you have to agree with Havana Marking when she says: “Anything that gets disabled people on the TV and outside of the normal ‘campaigning and complaining’ world is a good thing.” And including disabled people in high profile television shows should theoretically help to challenge people’s perceptions and break down prejudicial barriers. As Pete Bennett puts it: “There shouldn’t be any difference between a disabled person and a ‘normal’ person, it’s just the way the world looks at it.”
The Crippendales will be appearing for one night only at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe on 16 August at 10pm at Theatre Workshop. Call 0131 226 0000 for tickets (£8/6).
July/August 2007
