I always feel a little icky when I say I’m a fan of reality TV. It’s no doubt a pop-culture titan, but it’s also a genre that comes with a lot of problematic baggage. Exploitation, humiliation, hypersexualization, reinforced gender essentialism – the list goes on and on. The controversial topics the genre is tangled up in is – put lightly – a complete nightmare, but I can’t stop watching. It’s not just the drama (although I love the drama, too), I also like watching humans just be human, you know? I connect with the authenticity on screen, seeing people’s emotions in their rawest form.
This duality of reality TV is endlessly fascinating. By watching these shows, what is my role as a spectator? What systems am I participating in when I tune in to watch? Self-described “thirst-person shooter” The Crush House sets out to comment on the complexity of this relationship, and successfully delivers. It’s a satirical comedy that pokes fun at the shallowness and manufactured nature of the TV genre and tops it all off with a cheeky wink and peace sign gesture. It’s fun, dynamic, and has something to say.
The Crush House puts you in the role of a TV producer of a 90s reality TV show who must film a cast of hotties and their drama in a bubblegum pink Malibu mansion for a ravenous audience. You need to record the cast each day – catching their intimate conversations, trivial catfights, and steamy romances on camera – while also keeping track of what viewers want to see. You have a targeted viewership to satisfy each day set by the omnipresent ‘Network’ and if you don’t deliver those numbers the show will be cancelled, and you’ll be asked to sashay away.
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