Reality Racism
Britain’s having a nasty allergic reaction… to a reality TV show called Celebrity Big Brother. Here’s what’s happened (this is a big international story so you’ll know the basics). Once or twice a year commercial terrestrial TV station Channel 4 stuffs a bunch of B-list (C-list I guess) celebrities into a big house lined with TV cameras in the London suburbs and we all watch them get on each other’s nerves for a few weeks. This time, though, Channel 4 did something special. They mixed a demented cocktail of washed-up pop stars, has-been actors, a famous tabloid journalist, a former Big Brother winner (and her entire trailer trash entourage), a WAG and — this is the stroke of genius — a grade-1, copper-bottomed Bollywood star.
And the way it’s all come together is breathtaking. Three of the participants (Danielle, Jo and Jade, since you ask) turn out to be playground bullies and petty racists. Their constant schoolgirl nastiness towards the only Asian housemate has turned them, remarkably, into national hate figures. The show has become a kind of educational tableau about class and race in Britain.
In this story, Shilpa Shetty, the Bollywood star, is the willowy Tamil princess and her tormentors are the jealous, snot-nosed trolls. Shilpa will win by a mile. The bullies will, it seems likely, disappear without trace.
The semiotics of the event is a complicated treat (undergraduate theses will be written). Shetty is an impeccable creature of the imperial legacy, of India’s post-imperial economic success, of cultural globalisation and, above all, of the rich and strange Indian movie industry. She’s wealthy and successful but also beautiful, articulate, shallow, snooty and decorous. She won’t talk about sex, swear or drink. Offered the opportunity to lash out or abuse her abusers, she refuses. It’s what Britain used to be versus what it has become.
Her miserable experience in the house has turned her from a kind of Indian Paris Hilton into an articulate martyr to bigotry. Her star will inevitably rise. Meanwhile, the bullies are perfecting their version of the world-famous British working class belligerence (it’s practically Dickensian). These kids repeat and celebrate their ignorance — their pride in knowing and caring nothing about Shetty’s world (“they eat with their hands, don’t they? Or is that China?“) is a mask — we can all see — for their fear and discomfort. They know nothing and will learn nothing.
The gripping thing about the clique’s very public self-destruction is that they have no idea what a mess they’re making of their careers. They’ve been hung out to dry. Their contracts with the show’s producers allow them no help. In this particular hole they will be allowed to keep digging. Their various managers and agents and loved-ones must be shouting at the screen and desperately trying to get messages into the hermetically-sealed house — tossing notes wrapped round bricks over the garden wall, hiring sky-writers, bribing security. Some people — the government of India, for instance — want the show taken off the air.
I disagree. I’d like to see Jade and her stupid friends kept on air for as long as is feasible. They have important work to do.




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