Isn’t it refreshing to see a reality TV show focused on equipping the generation of tomorrow with the educational tools they need to succeed? Instead of centering their efforts on prospects of wealth, fame and possibly being one half of a Ryan-and-Trista-like love pairing, ABC’s new reality offering presents a group of high school seniors vying for a scholarship to a college of their choice. Sounds wholesome, doesn’t it? There is nothing like a bright-eyed bunch of kids taking a vested interest in the quality of their future. Not drinking, not cussing, not doing anything of remote interest. Oops.
I keep telling myself that this series’ ultimate moral superiority over other, more “frivolous” reality TV shows will quiet the nay-sayers and bring a new wave of “healthy” reality TV to the forefront. But I know, and you know (if only deep down) that something in us craves the dysfunctional eccentricity reality TV presents. These kids, with their 4 point something GPA’s and wild ambitions for the future are just not wild enough. They’ll likely discover the cure to cancer, but can they really chomp bugs with the best of them? They can apply their spirit to random schooling events, but would they be able to, oh say, balance a tightrope between fifteen-storey buildings?
Where’s the fire, where are the unbridled antics? These are a group of American teenagers; the most envied and spoiled demographic the world has to offer, yet nary a one of them is misbehaving. Instead, we have a group of kids that congratulates each other at their victories with a hardy pat-on-the-back, kids who dress up in skirts to show spirit despite their obvious male-ness and ones who truly believe, that they will change the world. I suppose we should be proud. Of the youth, and reality TV, which has managed to—insert gasp here—show us what real, functional people with real functional goals might be like.
In reality, however, the pull to “reality” is how it pushes the limits. We’re never more human than when we strive for a seemingly unattainable goal. Whether it be eating a plate of cow testicles or marrying your resident grandpa-millionaire, the emotions these tasks bring out are equivalent only to the exhilarating challenges themselves. With the Scholar however, the thrill-ride is minimized because of its overwhelming predictability. Everyone knows how to get into college, and everyone knows what epidermis is (okay, maybe not everyone). Add a bunch of book-studying and a personality-free judge team, and you have yourself a library on film.
Perhaps what they need is to up the stakes a bit. Team the boys against the girls or put the kids in situations that aren’t typical of college admission evaluations. Maybe go the Survivor-route and let them choose just who they feel should go to the final challenge every week; that should stir things up. Take things away from them when they make mistakes—a couple thousand off their final scholarship, anyone? Yes, it would be heartbreaking to see these bright kids fall, but it would be even better to see them earn that money back through challenges, and then finally prevail in the end. It is the ride that counts, and right now, The Scholar is about as stimulating as a carriage led by snails.
Perhaps in the weeks to come, the students’ relationships will evolve and they’ll be able to color me something other than the icky office-grey I roll in after every episode. Until then, I’m going to go eat a bug.
