"The Hills" in-depth analysis

I have a confession to make.
For whatever reason, I decided to watch several episodes of MTV's 'reality' show, "The Hills."
Yes, shocking and low, I know. But the deed was done for two reasons: 1) I kind of wanted to see what Teen Vogue was like on the "inside," and 2) Those girls are like, everywhere, so I was a little curious to learn where this fascination comes from. This analysis is going to sound very Klosterman-like, because his conclusions regarding MTV are totally relevant here, but my real inspiration for this "piece" is definitely the diatribes of my revered film professor that keep running through my head.


"The Hills" is a "reality" show that showcases the lives of Lauren Conrad, an aspiring fashion designer and Teen Vogue intern, her fellow intern, Whitney, her roommate Heidi, and her friend Audrina with their various romantic entanglements. (That's all you really need to know) But let me backtrack a little to the premise of the show. What is "reality?" You're rolling your eyes, I can see you. That was an entire chapter in Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs! you're griping. He wrote about Vanilla Sky! I'm aware. But this is different. In a reality show, we are to assume that everything the camera shows us is true and genuine and really happening on its own. The presence of the camera is not assumed to affect the behavior of those it is filming. Why then, do we not call it a documentary?

This is pretty obvious: "The Hills" is not real. It's a little too convenient, the plot lines, a little too straightforward, a little too-why-would-you-do-that-and-think-you're-going-to-get-away-with-it-when-there's-a-ginormous-lens-10-feet-from-your-face? Simple. Most of the characters MUST be acting, or being nudged in a certain direction. I mean, if Heidi's boyfriend is going to hang out with another girl behind her back and be sneaky about it, why does he choose one of the other girls who just happens to be on the show and is absolutely going to have a camera on her? Because he wants to be filmed.

But what really gives he show away is Conrad's internship at Teen Vogue. A girl with little or no experience scoring a great opportunity like that? Depends on how you look at it. A relatively young magazine getting featured daily on a network whose viewers teem with potential subscribers and advertisers? No wonder that, in the magazine last year, the phrase, "Lauren Conrad invited Teen Vogue to be a part of her new show..." So she's really doing them the favor. How sweet of her. This is how she gets away with being filmed screwing up, disrespecting her superiors, and slacking off (she doesn't do any of these things regularly, but when she does its very pointed). It's a symbotic relationship both she and the magazine need.

The same goes for the other cast members--does Heidi really work? Whenever we see her, she's sitting at her desk at the party-planning company, Bolthouse, gabbing to her boyfriend or lamenting man troubles to her coworkers. Do they like having distracting cameras in their office? Why not? They're trying to promote clubs and events, so what better way to do so than having their name pop up whenever Heidi pouts into her Blackberry?

This realization calls into question every single thing that happens in the show. Did they pick the restaurant or did the restaurant pick them? Do they have to pay to get into clubs or do clubs pay them? Does Ashley Paige really think Lauren was helpful or is she just taking advantage of the publicity for her swimsuits? Will Amy Astley choose Whitney for the fashion contributor job? Does she have a choice?

In Physical Science 100 we learned that you can't watch an electron. You can calculate its exact position or frequency, but not both. In other words, the behavior of an electron changes when you observe it. So reality television is a misnomer because once you throw a camera in the mix, everyone is performing.

Which brings me to the editing of the show, done in classic MTV style--short, to the point, colorful, dramatic, with all the monotony cut out. Only drama. Editing really is the deciding factor for the flavor, meaning, and story line of any cinema, stylistically and in terms of plot. Take the Bourne movies. The cinematographer creates a frantic mood with his quick cuts and zoom in the now-popular handheld camera approach. While there's none of that on "The Hills," we get the feeling there's something we're not being let in on. Often conversations skip around, and cut from one scene to another kind of awkwardly, to remove any superfluous talk that doesn't concern the central storyline.



With this type of editing, it's really editors who decide what goes on in these girls lives. As I was watching the show, I started to realize how very little I have learned about them. We only see what MTV wants us to see, and every episode casts a clear, simple story line that's easy for today's airheaded wannabes to follow with each character shown saying and doing things that fit their prescribed "role" for that episode. One girl may play "The Traitor," another "The Listener," a boy "The Cheater," a coworker "The Overachiever." These characters are shown without any dimension whatsoever. If "The Traitor" says something untraitorlike, it is not shown. If "The Cheater" acts loyal, it is not shown. This is in keeping with Klosterman's analysis of MTV's "The Real World;" with the rise of that show, American television speaks in one-dimensional stereotypes. If something is gay, that's all they are. If they are strict and demanding, that's all they are, sans a soft side.

Another controlling characteristic of the show is the music. No thinking is required here, the music does it all for you. In the short, 5-minute snaps between panoramic views of LA, we get the music, which tells us exactly what we're supposed to feel. Okay, look at her face, her eyes cast down--bring on the Lifehouse! Moody! Okay, look at her face, her eyes cast up--bring on the Feist! Happy! The editing makes the manipulation through music so much easier: instead of being presented with situations that we can evaluate ourselves, we are presented with scenes interpreted for us. We don't get to examine or consider things; it's already been done for us.

If I had to tell someone what I knew about these girls based on the show, I would be able to tell them very little. Heidi's life, apparently, revolves around mediating tension between her roommate and her boyfriend, whining about her boyfriend, and, supposedly, working. Audrina supposedly works as well, but at work she is shown gossiping about her lovelife and nightlife. Lauren loves her internship and aspires to become a fashion designer, while going out with her friends and looking for a new man. Does Heidi like to knit? Is Audrina a pious Baptist? Does a relative of Lauren's have cancer? Does Spencer secretly love Proust or Polynesian dances?

None of those things are important. In addition to being portrayed as one-dimensional (and I hope they have more to them than the materialism on their parents' dollar and the pursuit of pretty males) each girl is categorized as having only the most superficial of problems. Problems most of us would love to have, if they were our only problems. But these problems can't get too complicated, we can only handle one at a time, gosh dangit! Heidi is pulled in two directions: by Spencer, and by her friends. That's it. That's her life. Lauren in pulled in two directions: by her friendship to Heidi and her hatred of Spencer. That's it. Whitney in pulled in two directions: being grateful for her internship and opportunities, and tired of being an underling. That's it. That's her life.

I don't know about you, but my life's a tad more complicated that than. Something along the lines of Lauren's (the me Lauren) pulled into 457497 directions: she hates Bakersfield, but likes the comfort and privacy, loves college, but hates roommates and no sleep, loves food but hates fat, wants to pursue art but doesn't want to starve, wants to leave home, but doesn't want to be lonely, is a feminist, but doesn't want to be lonely, hates her job, likes the money....it goes on.

But just think, instead of worrying about paying rent, I could be fretting because my best friend stole this guy I liked! Instead of studying calculus, I could be shopping for a New Year's dress! Instead of wishing I could someway on this earth get/afford an internship in Paris, I could blithely turn it down to spend a summer with my boyfriend in Malibu! But mommy and daddy or MTV or both pay my rent, the gas for my Mercedes, I can get a job anywhere I want, and guys will date me because I'm young and thin and famous, and they get to be on the show.



So, in reality, "The Hills" is the furthest thing from reality. In reality, people are multifaceted. People have to actually worry about the basic necessities of life. In general, people have more going on in their lives than the self-centered Hills trifecta of existence: dating/nightlife, friends, work. Most people have families, hobbies, oddities, religion, opinions about politics, environmentalism, global warming, the shrinking size of our national parks, and whether or not the FDA should approve Meroxyl for use in sunscreen. The first thought is, How nice would that be? To just have a fun job, go to parties, date, and all on someone else's dollar? But how terrible and empty would that be? How insignificant would your existence be? Oh, well, it's not real anyway.

Here's a shorter article and hereto the same effect. And this one's from the Washington Post.