I work in The Biz, usually TV, working directly with the Stars. Been at it since 1982. Now I'm usually the oldest person (and only adult) on the set. I love it.
This may be herectical and suicidal, but one of my favorite books is Jerry Mander's "Four Arguments for the Elmination of Television," from 1978. "Whaddya mean 'elminate TV?' Impossible!" Well, you're right, those digital horses have long left the barn, and on a personal note, if TV were to be eliminated, so would my livelihood.
But Jerry's RIGHT: the medium of Television is deeply flawed. How? Read the damn book! But for starters, love and compassion do not play well on TV. Positive emotions on TV are like watching paint dry. BORING! But dysfunctionality and pathology? Gimme perps, pimps, losers, blood, and car crashes, that's great TV!
And don't forget, Television Viewers, that the SOLE purpose of TV is to keep YOUR EYEBALLS glued to the screen until the commercials come on to dumb you, demean you and sell to your ass, you CONSUMER, you!
So I show up on the set for this new "reality" show, which is targeted at women. It takes place inside a business that caters to grooming a part of the female anatomy. (Sorry, no clues. They made me sign things.)
This show is an exercise in voyeuristic narcissism. It's all about our long-in- the-tooth host. "Look at ME, people, look in the mirror like ME, stick your chest and butt out like ME, drink like ME, snag an old rich guy like ME and he'll buy you Jimmy Choo handbags and all you have to do is put out." Cool.
I get my gear set up, and She reads the first few lines. It is pathetic. She reads again. Bad. So the director says, "Oh, don't you just HATE prompter? Turn it off, Honey (that's me), I'm going to do LINE READS with her." (Note: to give line reads to an actor is an INSULT. It means the director acts out the line, and you MIMIC HIM because YOU can't act). But She thinks the director is giving her more attention.
I sit there for seven hours.
And The Little Voice in my head is whispering, "You know, Bev, this is your one and only life (probably), and you are being very responsible and making a living-- which is good -- but there's a lot of terrible things in the world that are crying for adult energy and help-- and you're in a room full of a lot of very talented people (minus one) that would rather work on things that have some meaning, or make a contribution, or lift the human spirit. But Jerry Mander's RIGHT -- advertisers pay for EYEBALLS and they are never going to pay for happy people leading satisfying lives when they can buy bitch brawls!
"And Bev, on a personal note, just how long you think you're gonna live, anyway? You and Cher are both on Medicare, if you get my drift. You've traded another day of your life's energy for money! By the end of today you'll have lost another 10,000 brain cells you'll never see (or remember about) again, lined your arteries with a new layer of Bad Cholesterol, and peed out significant amounts of calcium from your bones and teeth. I'm just concerned about your mortality, Bev."
Isn't this what we ALL ponder when we reach "a certain age", if not before? Well, stay tuned, because I'm going to start looking at this dilemma in more depth. I need some time to think.
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