June 06, 2005
From:
news.com.au
NAKED and unashamed, the inmates of the Big Brother household parade, unfazed by the knowledge their prejudices and peccadilloes are being recorded and compiled for viewing on Big Brother Uncut.
Are they indifferent to the camera's prying lens?
Or do they actually crave this exposure?
Or does the prospect of winning the cash gleam more brightly for people unable or unwilling to acknowledge the price they pay in lost dignity and self-respect?
Uncut might exasperate and appal but it certainly appeals to the voyeur within.
Full-frontal nudity, soft-core shenanigans and language which spews from right out of the drain.
Even the most half-hearted peep show aficionado couldn't resist such up-front titillation.
And Uncut has been getting the ratings to go with it, averaging around a million viewers per turgid, MA 15+ rated episode.
While these numbers are down a little on Uncut 2004, they still show there's a big market for the ribald and tawdry antics of the young and avaricious.
The public's acceptance of Uncut demonstrates that Australian television has travelled a considerable distance - up towards freedom and enlightenment, or down towards utter debasement and degradation, depending on your point of view - since the 1970s.
Back then it was the inclinations of homosexual Don in Number 96 causing anxiety for those dedicated to the cleanliness of the social fabric and its comparatively fragile moral fibres.
Number 96 featured Australia's first full frontal nude scene.
And doing her part for the ratings and the cause of furthering community unease about depictions of unorthodox sexual behaviour and offensive language was the TV soap's sex kitten, Abigail.
In the 1980s, the late Graham Kennedy uttered the F-word live on his late night news show in response to a letter from a viewer.
It must have seemed to some like the end of civilisation as we knew it.
Fortunately, civilisation has proven more durable than they thought.
These days successful media professionals such as
Andrew Denton regularly allow their guests to drop the odd expletive.
On English interviewer Michael Parkinson's program broadcast last Saturday night, US actor Bruce Willis asked his host if he could use the F-word.
And the first expression out of the mouth of clean-cut variety host Rove McManus when he won the Logie this year wasn't a humble speech of thanks for all those toilers behind the scenes who really deserve to be sharing his worthy accolade.
"F***ing Awesome" the presenter screamed.
Yet civilisation persists.
In fact, programs including Uncut wouldn't exist without it.
They are a barometer of a society's organic evolution, not necessarily to a better place but certainly to somewhere we've both never been and are destined to revisit as long as humans live in groups large enough to require organised entertainment of this ilk.
THE scandalous buffoonery, the bisexual romps and inane yet explicit conversations on Uncut prove only that selected young people in the 21st century will go a long way in the pursuit of money and fun.
If there is a cause for concern, it shouldn't be about the profanity of the inmates and the fact we can watch them taking a shower.
It should be that so many people find it entertaining.
A trawl through the websites dedicated to discussion of the crudities and other highlights featured on Uncut shows there is little sympathy for those on the inside.
How long before the interactive component of the program extends to viewers being able to punish those they detest while rewarding the favourites?
Uncut encourages contempt for others. Maybe they even deserve it, but who is anyone else to judge?
Using the defence that the inmates' consent to the conditions of the program falls over if the particiapants' sense of responsibility can be called into question.
A better defence is that this is what people actually want to watch.
It makes you wonder how many apply for inclusion in the household.
The real program would be to watch them pass through the selection process.
Isolating the more risque images which are recorded by the cameras and packaging them up as a franchise-style, branded entertainment commodity also reeks of callous exploitation.
The creators and the television station owners are making a killing by placing delicate psyches under unnatural pressures.
Sure, the word "delicate" might not seem appropriate for a young bloke who rubs his ***** on the back of a female inmate's head, but indelicate psyches can be exploited too.
Fascinating, maybe, but only if you switch the sympathy button off.
Channel 10 is on a winner, having correctly judged the market for its full-frontal, soft-core snuff.
Ten spokeswoman Margaret Fearne was reluctant to be drawn on the subject of complaints about Uncut, saying that there had been both viewer complaints and compliments.
"We run extensive consumer advice before the show," Ms Fearne told The Daily Telegraph.
"We also show that advice in advertising breaks during the show. It has an adult classification rating and is scheduled in an appropriate time slot.
"We do not advertise the show during normal viewing hours or during programs we think would be watched by children."
Which is exactly why so many children, plenty of them under 15, watch it, either with or without parental permission.
The fragile psyches are both in front of the camera and behind it.