Reality show scandal.

Does anyone these days have the right to be shocked by accusations of reality shows being rigged?

That thought occurred to me recently while catching up with a friend over coffee.  She spent the summer backpacking across Europe (people still do that) in order to take a break from “everything American and become more worldly.”  After regaling me with tales of French debauchery and Scottish shenanigans (very worldly indeed), she asked what she had missed in TV.  “Well, let’s see.  Under the Dome kicked off…  Arrested Development is back…  Big Brother was accused of rigging the winner.  Again.”

She stopped me right there with a “Get out!” expression.  She was shocked that such a thing could occur.  Her shock triggered my shock, “How could anyone think that reality TV is anything but rigged?!  Everyone’s a suspect.  Just like the quiz show scandals of the ‘50s.”  “The what of the when?” she replied.

In 1956, Herbert Stemple was the long-winning champion of the NBC quiz show, 21.  After a series of tied games against popular competitor Charles Van Doren, Stemple missed the

Based on true scandal.

seemingly easy question, “What film won the Academy Award for Best Picture in 1955?”  The correct answer was Marty, one of Stemple’s favorite films, which raised suspicions when he instead guessed On the Waterfront.  Stemple’s protests that he had been forced to “take a dive” were ignored until a scandal shook the quiz show genre to its foundations.

The connect-the-dots quiz show, Dotto (seriously, that’s its name), was CBS’s answer to rival NBC’s hit 21.  Despite the name, it was successful.  Until a notebook belonging to contestant Marie Will was discovered by a rival contestant and proved that Will had the questions and answers to the show before taping.  Dotto was quickly canceled, as was CBS’ other thriving (and corrupt) game show, The $64,000 Question.  The network and its sponsor confessed to fixing the proceedings, and now everyone was paying attention to Herb Stemple’s allegations against 21.

My globe-trotting pal was shocked all over again, completely flummoxed by the history of corrupt American TV.  “Maybe I should’ve stayed in Europe,” she said, “Less lies.”  I assured her that the lies were everywhere.  They had to have been.  How else does one explain the game show wrongdoings of Slumdog Millionaire or Hurley’s cursed lottery numbers on Lost?  Though fictional, these examples had to have been inspired by the zeitgeist’s collective memory of game show cheaters.  Even the field of bingo is no stranger to cheating allegations.

Scandal down under.

The owner of www.bingoonmobile.co.uk was quoted as saying that, “Bingo sites receive hundreds of such complaints per year.”  But what transpired in an Australian game show went above and beyond these usual complaints.  National Bingo Night, a popular interactive show for studio audiences and home viewers alike, was unmasked in 2008 by A Current Affair for fraud.  In addition to revealing that the show was pre-recorded, which made the play-at-home bingo cards worthless, the exposé detailed how the ball that came down the tube was not the same ball then read by the hostess.  Mobile bingo sites don’t have to worry about this, but it’s still surprising that grandma’s favorite pastime could elicit such corruption.

Swinging the topic back around to “reality” TV, I concluded that there was no difference between Charles Van Doren, National Bingo Night, or the claims that Big Brother contestant Amanda Zuckerman, a personal friend of producer Allison Grodner, was pre-selected to win season 15.

A pot of worldly Guatemalan medium roast later and my friend’s ideals were shaken to the core.  For fear of causing further damage, I didn’t dare tell her about pro-wrestling (fake), Lance Bass (gay), or Hogwarts’ Headmaster Aldus Dumbledore (fake and gay).  I just sat back, finished off my caffeine fix, and said, “So tell me more about this French debauchery…”