“But, dear, I feel so lonely at home!”
“Well, if you want crowd, go to the market!”
— Engkong (H. Tile) and his wife,
in the series Si Doel Anak Sekolahan, god knows which episode.
The accuracy of the dialogue is questionable.
WISE MEN say: we can’t live alone. Less wise men—who unfortunately are many—say: of course we can’t live alone; who would we defeat had we been alone? Although this latter statement is “less wise”, such a competitive spirit is effective in encouraging great achievements, but with the attending condition of loneliness. There is also another side effect: achievement requires recognition, and loneliness needs company. Well, if there is no company, admirers will do.
The desire to be recognized is understandable. Everybody needs it on a certain level. The problem is, the impersonal aura in the relationship among the urbanites (due to professionalism?) heightens the urgency of such need. Like pouring gasoline over fire, the world of the celebrity as seen in the mass media and television further fires up the desire. Witnessing how members of the celebrity caste can be so much loved and so widely recognized, albeit with dubious achievements, people become aware how such boisterous attention from others is possible. As for what such attention is for, well, that’s another story.
Do you know the classic story about the thug who offers security services to protect his client from possible threats, while it is actually he that is the source of the threat? Well, the TV offers a similar salvation. Go make an achievement and collect admirers. Who knows, perhaps the loneliness might go away.
* * *
The programs that fulfill such desires have evolved along the way, from the glamorous to the instant; from the contest type such as the AFI (Akademi Fantasi Indosiar, or Indosiar Fantasy Academy), Indonesian Idol, or KD, to the “drama reality” (whatever that means) shows such as Termehek-mehek on TransTV or Tak Ada yang Abadi (Nothing is Eternal) on RCTI.
What has been the basis of such evolution? Perhaps only God knows, because I’m not sure that the producers and actors know. Lately, however, one can sense how the talent-show type demands great responsibility on the part of the producer: handling the quarantine program during the show, managing the artists that the program have brought into stardom, handling schedules, organizing contracts. Dare the producer ignore such complicated responsibilities, horrid, shocking stories immediately come to the surface: of neglected contestants who become bankrupt and ignored. The TV station might say anything to defend itself, but the image will be fixed in the mind of the audience: the TV is the evil party who has committed an offense against the ex-contestant, a commoners like us, the audience! How could they!
The flourishing reality dramas—or “drama reality” according to those TV stations—are an easy way to make people forget those incidents, presenting attractions that are (ostensibly) more real, (presumably) more raw, and (purportedly) honest. But what to do—a Termehek-mehek episode in September 2008 gave rise to debates: how could people settle a criminal case by reporting it to a TV station? The long-held suspicions became even stronger. This reality drama show must have been a series of fabrications.
You’re lying if you say you’re surprised. Where do you think those lonely artist-wanna-be’s go? To the fleeting show of Miss Celebrity Indonesia (on SCTV), or to Mendadak Artis (Suddenly an Artist) on TPI whose concept becomes increasingly vague by day while the TV station, almost bankrupt? Nyet. They go to the “drama reality”, dear readers. It is a show of misery, especially made for you to enjoy, all the while giving the lonely souls a chance of short-lived stardom. With payment, certainly, albeit with no long-term contract.
Just when the ethical problems of such reality dramas made some people uncomfortable, Take Me Out Indonesia came up to the fore. Indosiar TV station surprised the audience with a dating show that also offers a chance for the participants to show off. It gives spot-on twin solutions to the problem of loneliness: (1) giving the participants recognition and attention from the audience; and (2) providing them with partners!
While in the past the lonesome still found it awkward to give their names to dating services—they felt it was enough to use numeric codes—today the effort to find the right partner can also be a noisy and glamorous affair. You should no longer feel awkward to come forward, appear in full make-up, and perform in front of the camera, before millions pairs of eyes, and under the guidance of Ustadz Cinta, or the Love Guru (no, I’m not kidding. Love Guru, indeed.). Engkong, Doel’s gramps, would panic had his wife truly gone to the market—especially if we’re talking about dating markets such as Take Me Out. Another TV station, RCTI, refused to be beaten and launched Pilihan Mama, or Mama’s Choice, another dating show that began at the end of 2009 by, presumably, adopting the age-old Indonesian norm: looking for life partners with the necessary blessing of the parents—in this case the mother’s.
The old-fashioned ones among us would usually look down on all the merriment. “How can you look for life partners by behaving like itinerant ronggeng dancers? Don’t you care about your reputation?” Oh well. What to do. Taking care of one’s reputation means you have to behave well, and that, my friend, is TV shows’ greatest nemesis. Apparently the show Pilihan Mama was so afraid of this threat that they seemed to have forced all the contestants to behave in such vulgar and excessive ways. Indeed, including the mothers. I guarantee you that this show have silenced many critics. If you think you are someone with a “modern mind” and lament the conservative choice of the participants in Pilihan Mama who are still willing to follow what mama tell them to, just look at one of its episodes and tell me: do you think these participants are conservative? Meanwhile, if you are among the “elderly people” (and therefore criticize such excess), just observe one single episode, and you will understand that it is the people in your generation who are behaving so ostentatiously.
I think that the excessive behavior seen in Pilihan Mama is a logical consequence of the ferocious broadcasting demands. It is no longer a secret how show managers will do anything to prevent their shows become bland, even if for a mere second. Any display of clueless face constitutes a serious sin. The common solution is usually to choose only expressive participants. The desperate solution, meanwhile, is to hire paid participants (with a minimal fee, mind you) in order to enliven the show. A Take Me Out episode aired in October 2009 was viewed with contempt because one of the contestants showed vulgar materialistic attitude and humiliated the potential partners. Does this signify a certain moral demise? Or was it simply an effort to create sensations?
Apparently, the control in the dynamics between the real participants and the paid ones in such contests is key to the show’s survival. Take Me Out might well prevail if they can remain subtle in “deceiving” the audience. Its host, Choky Sitohang, has proven himself to be capable of controlling the situation well. Pilihan Mama, meanwhile, failed even from the start because it could not handle the mothers. From the third week of January 2010, the show has disappeared from the TV station and any information about it has been deleted from RCTI’s official website.
What is interesting in such case is this: the ethical issue encountered in the reality drama has found its way into the game shows. The ethical implications can even be worse. How can a game show be engineered in such a way that it has the potentials to become fraudulent? All of these are simply layered veils that—purportedly—might provide us with good quality entertainment. Had he been told about this development, Baudrillard would laugh and say, “mais oui, I told you so! Sim-u-la-cra.”
* * *
But have these dream seekers who do not want to be lonely been thoroughly disadvantaged? It would seem so. When there was the news about the destitution suffered by the show’s ex-contestants, the TV station refused to be responsible. “We only gave them a chance to perform on TV,” a public-relation manager of a TV station once said. “If the audience likes them and they then become artists, that’s only a bonus, an extra.” Indeed, what was left unsaid was this: “Well, if they then become destitute in the process, that’s their risk! But thank you, anyway, for having appeared in our show.”
Do not even try to ask about adequate fees, fair contracts, or legal protections that should actually be demanded from the organizers. These participants are amateurs, anyway! Perhaps they don’t even have to know about such things. Amateurs who are aware of their rights will usually be immediately kicked out, considered as too much, going beyond the line, because they dare to think of themselves as stars! Exploitation of cheap actors has been the TV stations’ field of gold. The amateurs are happy, and so are the TV managers. Beneficial symbiosis? Perhaps. With the absence of transparency regarding the possible added values, the violations of rights, and the unfair transactions, these practices actually constitute a large-scale deception at the expense of these lonely people.
Fortunately, the trickery does not invariably come from one direction only. Who knows, perhaps these amateur actors are silently aware of the fact that the long-term dream to become famous might go bust. So, they re-draft their strategy: it is enough to be a short term star—in reality dramas, for example. Or perhaps they can simply participate in Take Me Out, the existence of actual spouses notwithstanding. It is possible that they take part in the show merely for the prize.
The negotiations between dream providers and dream seekers will go on, and usually we can only debate about the side effects: the spread of the virus of empty dreams, the epidemic of unnecessary desires, etc. Meanwhile, the pattern of incidents shows how the lonesome dream seekers keep on re-defining their target of fame in increasingly shorter time frame. Perhaps we should do something before the targeted time-frame becomes too short, which might probably drive these lonely people take desperate actions, for example committing suicide in crowded malls or apartment buildings as a final effort to become famous.
Or perhaps we have indeed reached that stage?
