At 3pm on Sunday afternoon, I arrived home from a weekend away. I sat on the lounge next to my housemate, who was watching Love Island UK: All Stars on the TV. I’d never watched an episode of Love Island before, and since I didn’t know who any of the returning “all-star” islanders were, I assumed I wouldn’t stay for long.
It wasn’t until 10pm that we turned the TV off.
Only a show like Love Island could keep my eyes glued on the screen and my butt glued to the couch for seven hours straight. An island resort, glorious summer weather, hot women and men strutting around the joint asking each other for a “chat” to see where their “head’s at” – I couldn’t look away.
As I’m waiting to watch the latest episode tonight, the lives of a bunch of attractive, funny and at times extremely shallow strangers on the other side of the world are the only thing that has been on my mind.
What’s more, Married At First Sight (MAFS) starts tonight, which I’m sure I’ll be tuning into.
There are so many elements to reality TV that makes it a guilty pleasure many of us can’t refuse. But there’s one reason I wish I could quit.
We are addicted to the cliffhangers
“Next time on Love Island…”
Currently my least favourite words in the English language.
But the key to a good drama-filled story is a cliffhanger, something to keep us waiting and wanting. If part of a story or a TV show ends unresolved, most of us won’t rest until we find out what happens.
A study at the University of Buffalo found when storytellers – writers, editors, producers – deliver a cliffhanger, it keeps the audience engaged until the next episode, movie or book.
“We don’t like suspense,” said Lindsay Hahn from the University of Buffalo and author of the study. “We like when suspense is resolved, and resolving this novious state makes it more likely for an audience to move to a story’s next instalment.”
If all episodes are available, cliffhangers will most likely make us binge a TV show for hours on end. Likewise, if episodes are drip fed, released every week or so, cliffhangers will stay on our mind for days until we can find out what happens on the next episode.
The only reason I switched the telly off yesterday was because we had run out of episodes on Love Island UK: All Stars. The next episode comes out tonight, and if the wait was any longer, I would’ve lost my mind.
We are addicted to the reprieve from “reality”
Reading the news can be emotionally exhausting. Watching heavy drama shows or movies takes a lot of effort.
But trashy reality TV takes minimal mind space. Plus, reality TV gives us a break from the real “reality” – war, hate, crime, poverty, social injustice and so much more.
That’s not to say we should completely ignore what’s going on in the world around us and only concern ourselves with the relationship statuses of Love Island contestants.
All it is is another way to navigate the ongoing challenges our generation faces. It’s a way to decompress, escape for 40 minutes in the episode, get mad about the pointless argument Arabella started with Chris, complain about how annoying Anton is.
Then turn the TV off. Return to the real reality, your reality. Get mad about injustice. Complain about the patriarchy. Repeat.
We are addicted to the stars
Reality TV only came to our screens as late as the 1990s. Before then, people who watched TV felt the more technology advanced, the more their lives were commercialised, and the more their world was becoming artificial.
The first reality TV shows emerged on screens to respond to demands for more authentic televisions, more relatable content.
That was 30 years ago. Now, technology is even more advanced, commercialism and consumerism is even more deeply ingrained in our everyday lives.
And even though reality TV shows appear more unrealistic by the season, we have greater access to the real lives of the people who come onto our screens. Why? The answer is social media.
The people that appear on these shows have thousands, if not millions, of fans following their social media accounts. As the show airs, they may post about how they feel now after certain moments in that episode – that argument, that kiss, that elimination.
But even after the show finishes, fans stick around and follow the lives of reality TV stars intimately. They’ll know the moment a couple gets engaged, they’ll know the moment a relationship ends, they’ll know everything about every stranger they once saw on their TV screens and they now watch on their phone screens.
The accessibility to the lives of stars on social media makes reality TV more real to viewers. This parasocial relationship is nothing short of addictive.
We are addicted to the story
Strip away the fancy resort, the Prada sunglasses, the extravagant dates and parties, and a show like Love Island is simply a love story.
A group of young, single and unfairly attractive people have been unlucky in love and have come to a foreign place to find “the one”. There’s heartbreak, there’s conflict, there’s drama, tears, laughter, hugs, friendship, fights.
It’s a story of the human experience, and apart from being famous and most likely quite wealthy, the stories of the people on screen are relatable. The heartbreak, conflict, drama, tears, laughter, hugs, friendship, fights – we know it, we’ve experienced it, and we enjoy seeing our experiences reflected on TV.
I guess it’s just nicer to watch your story be played out by women in bikinis and men with abs.
The bad side
There’s one part of watching reality TV that I can’t stand – it’s the judgemental thoughts that come to my mind.
I’m judging the outfits, the hair, the style and the personalities of the real people that come on the screen. And it’s only a matter of time before that judgement turns on myself. Suddenly, I’m judging my outfit, my hair, my style, my personality and, worst of all, my own body.
It’s a side effect of watching reality TV that we could really go without. But I wonder if it’s the real reason that keeps me watching the next episode.