The trials of Jerry and prestige reality TV: A case study

By: Dylan Howell, Nic Levesque, Raphael Rosalen, Tianhui Huang, Zosha Millman

In the clip we’ve chosen we see a recently made star from the Netflix “documentary series” Cheer, Jerry Harris, interviewing celebrities on the red carpet. And they are dazzled by the encounter with him, even more so than he is with them (at least, as far as we see).

From this clip, we observe two things:

1)    Jerry is an example of neoliberalism’s model of self-managed subject who is rewarded—almost at random—for his participation in a “prestige” reality show, and for being a model of this form of self-governance proselytized by his coach, Monica. Basically, her whole lesson is about the governance of the self; her methods are about managing yourself and your life in the absence of state framework. (You may not have any real job prospects after this cheer program, but you’ll be the manager of whatever you do.)

2)    In a more traditional reality TV model, his sub-celebrity would not be permitted at the Oscars, whether on the red carpet or to the Vanity Fair after-party. Even people who are at the Oscars are striving to be at the Vanity Fair party.

Netflix has, through its recent cultural cache, found a newly perceived level of quality for reality TV on their platform; the Netflix type is taken generally more seriously than a similar show on TLC.

The reality TV is the same, but with narrative and form, and even style changes, Netflix is trying to break the affective and participatory structure as it was perceived previously. The imposition of a documentary-style narrative, versus audience participation/character-based thing, which eliminates the affected connection or literal democratic connection with the show. Instead, it makes it more of an art slice of life, instead of a pulp slice of life. (If this were done as a single movie it would be an Oscar nominee.)

This creates a disconnect between the audience and those they are watching. Just like America’s favorite myth—that of the “American Dream” and pulling oneself up by their bootstraps—it goes down a little easier to an audience that is not in the same social position as those on the show.

Although McCarthy is arguing that we watch reality TV because that is a reflection of our own political and affective experience, the success of Cheer is premised on, or suggests that reality TV can be elevated through this class disjuncture, between target audience and subject. And in that way, it breaks the idea of participating in our own oppression, and instead represents the vanishing of other people’s oppression. We would have to read what is happening on the red carpet as the rich giving to the poor, a fake subversion of the power dynamics at play.

Jerry makes a crossover into the “legitimate” cultural world through being a breakout hit in a “legitimate” reality show. (unlike similar subjects in, say, The Bachelor or its ilk). Somehow through the prestige filter, the “theater of suffering” becomes more legitimate, less lurid, and no longer a source of embarrassment.