Here’s a question to shake up a lull at your next get together- which reality competition show do you think you’d excel at? Or, more specifically, which show’s system do you think you’d be the best at gaming the system in order to win?
While the average Jeopardy viewer might clutch their pearls at ‘what is’ scheming, a Survivor aficionado could name a list of participants who are celebrated at being the most conniving. When Survivor implemented Hidden Immunity Idols stashed around camp, players could find a series of clues to indicate their location. But dedicated viewers beam with pride when a fellow fan makes it on the show and remembers that idols were often hidden in picturesque spots like the hollow of a tree or right under an often used bridge. People like Tai Trang, Tony Vlachos, Ben Driebergen skip waiting for clues entirely and used their time to ensure he could avoid being voted off at the next Tribal Council.
A similar system manipulation has occurred in the Bravo-verse of reality television. Real Housewives can’t rely on the same rules of engagement like the structured game of Survivor challenges, but the ladies who lunch have been lunching for so long, their shows have been gamified too. This gamification of the Real Housewives franchises can most easily be recognized when objects, physical symbols of dramas, are used in the same capacity as Hidden Immunity Idols in an attempt to avoid elimination. These props function as ‘Uno Reverse Cards’. Their most successful execution is when they become both conceptual and physical shields from narrative liability.
Winning Survivor awards the victor with a cash prize. Winning for a Bravolebrity is also based in cash, but that cash is because they were asked to sign on for another season. ‘Losing’ a season of Real Housewives comes in the form of being given the courtesy of “announcing” “you” “decided” to “take a step back.” This can most be seen in Dorinda Medley’s fluid story on her departure from Real Housewives of New York.
Survivor contestants can rely on an unforgiving but up front system of elimination at a daily tribal council. Bravo shows feature a similar system, but they instead come in the form of Reunions at the end of a Season. These reunions are filmed after the season has aired, so months after the castmates themselves experienced the season’s events. This means they have the time to gauge audience reaction to their behavior and use a Reunion to plead their case to the rest of the cast but also to the viewers at large. This is the time to ‘play their Idol’.
The titular example of this use of props was when Kim Richards returned a blue bunny stuffed animal to Lisa Rinna on the Season 7 Reunion of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. It was captivating. A show stopping performance from everyone involved. Kyle Richards, Kim’s sister, practically invented ‘bated breath’ while her knuckle pressed her tongue firmly back against its will. Lisa Rinna, pulling out all the stops from her Soap Opera work, gifted us with a single perfect tear that seemed to shine like a cluster of diamonds. Kim held the eye contact, the twinkle of a starlet from Hollywood’s Golden Age who’d seen it all returned fire at Rinna’s teardrop radiantly. Stunning. But how did that Blue Bunny come to deliver such captivating television, and why has it been so hard to replicate?
Kim was totally right, she was sincere, and she was hilarious. She was right because, while she sympathized with Lisa Rinna’s trauma regarding her sister’s tragic overdose, that trauma wasn’t Kim’s to bear just because she herself has also struggled with sobriety. She was sincere because she was fed up with being a play thing for Rinna to build a plot around kicking Kim when she was down. She was hilarious because it was so extremely Beverly Hills-esque to say that the gift needed to be returned because she “felt it had bad energy.” It was also of comically awkward proportions- tall shiny, wrapped in a crinkly cellophane. We’d seen Kim on her off-days, but at this moment she was completely self aware. She was ready to embarrass Rinna and she knew Rinna deserved it. She knew the audience would be on her side because of ideal narrative positioning (separate from the nuances of real relationships which viewers will never be able to fully know). She had an ideal alignment where even though she was already a legend, she was still somehow ‘punching up’. She was a ‘woman of the people’, the Underdog. That’s because she didn’t start this. The object in question, the bunny, was given to her, and she was taking a conceptually passive role in declining it. It sought her attention, not the other way around. Her bringing the object to return it made her more dignified, like the whole ordeal was, if anything, beneath her. While very Californian to say an object had bad energy, in function she was pointing out that this cheap toy from a millionaire was a gesture in bad faith. She was neutralizing Rinna’s ability to claim that the jabs at Kim’s sobriety were water under the bridge. She wasn’t letting Rinna ‘get away with it.’ Dorit illustrated Rinna’s hypocrisy by saying “the reason why you’re taking it on the chin is because you’re the one putting up the dukes” in her signature Connecticut-Israeli-Brittish affectation.
This totem of reversal wasn’t so powerful that it sent Rinna packing and got Kim cast full time. As Kim said “I don’t want to be here.” But it acted like an albatross. Rinna has never really been able to shake the pattern of teaming up on a castmate- most famously leading the ‘take downs’ of Lisa Vanderpump, Denise Richards (no relation to Kim and Kyle), and most recently Kathy Hilton. Her reputation has totally deteriorated with the fans because they blame her for the franchise's stagnation. Kim, on the other hand, has seen her reputation regenerate. Her Bunny moment was so iconic, the Bunny itself was placed on the set of Watch What Happens Live, Andy Cohen’s talk show. In the Bravo World, that’s like the Smithsonian’s Ruby Slipper display. Kim doesn’t have to keep baring her soul to the cameras for her legacy to percolate. Effectively, Kim won.
These reunions are filmed in a single day, but can be cut into up to four episodes. This means that, proportionally, at no other point does a cast member have more control over their image. Virtually nothing can be filmed without them there, and though an editor could cut around them, if they stay on message when the same question is asked a different way, they have a good shot at coming across as intended. It also means if they have acting experience (like both Kim and Rinna), they can work a literal stage. They can make dramatic exits and halt filming altogether, but make certain a camera follows as Andy Cohen pleads for their return through the dressing room door. These reunions have been going on for ten years, so even if a Housewife isn’t coming from a performance background, they’re expected to have a functioning literacy of these dynamics. Bravo fans have come to expect things like sneak peeks at what will be worn, the stage design, if anyone refused to attend- all different deets, so knowing these expectations is really a professional courtesy. Housewives need to be studied up. At this point they’re almost expecting someone to try a prop reveal. It’s hard for anybody to match Kim Richards’ earnestness in general, but it becomes less and less repeatable with how regimented Reunions have become since.
Because Housewives are expected to know the terrain, that means they’ve likely seen other Reunions, priming their temptation to replicate what works. Let’s compare The Blue Bunny to subsequent object based Immunization attempts, starting with Potomac’s Monique Samuels and her Binder. Monique was in a tough spot. She was in very poor standing with the rest of the castmates as she had initiated a physical fight with Candiace Dillard Bassett. Of note, this cast of Black women was upset that they could be associated with a stereotype of violence, but also because Bravo has a reputation for being more forgiving when a physical aggressor is white. Not only that, but they alleged she leaked information in order to control the narrative prior to it being aired. So Monique was up against both the cast and production, with some even threatening legal action. The Reunion was quite expressly her final shot.
Monique responded in a way that was overproduced. She showed up with her own study guide like she was permitted assistance on a final exam. It was white with gold leaf leopard print, which matched her gown. A three ring binder chock full of every ‘receipt’ she should document or point she could refute. At face value it looked a step too far. But that hyper-produced fanaticism effectively pushed her so far past insincerity that she ended up back within the spectrum of earnest authenticity. It was authentic desperation. But really if somebody had threatened to sue you, getting into a headspace of preparing evidence doesn't seem so far fetched. Like Kim Richard’s extensive history in production, her unashamed embrace of working the scene felt natural. Not justified or excused, but real. It didn’t work. In some ways she was lucky to have continued filming the season, but castmates refusing to film with each other is a method that can totally derail either’s longevity.
Prior to the Binder, Monique featured another classic Housewives trope- getting a designer pet. While tiny/furious lap dogs might come to mind, Monique piqued interests by instead adopting an African Gray Parrot named T’Challa. T’Challa took on a role of his own, receiving dedicated nameplate graphics to mark on screen appearances as if he was ‘Potomac’s Eighth Housewife’. This was explained in the ‘After Show’ by Josh Brown- Vice President, Current Production. “As Kemar and his team were working through the episodes… if T’challa is in the scene you have to keep tracking T’Challa. The bird can’t just be on one shot, sitting on her shoulder and then you never deal with T’Challa again.” So, effectively scene continuity. As fewer castmates were willing to film with Monique, T’Challa’s status as another character almost inserted an ally on her behalf, going so far as to have ‘feuds’ of his own.
Monique’s Binder was the highlight of the Reunion, T’Challa was the highlight of the season, but it wasn’t enough to carry Monique through to getting cast on the next season. Critically, castmates’ refusal to film with her during Covid must have made it hard to work around in quarantine. Since leaving Monique independently launched Bindertime Stories, a miniseries available on her YouTube channel.
That wasn’t the first or last time a ‘receipt’ was pulled. Bethenny Frankel once had her phone ready to dispute claims from Carole Radziwill. But the audience never saw the phone’s screen, nor were messages digitally superimposed. Lisa Vanderpump once went to the effort of printing text messages, but paper doesn't pack the same punch as a whole binder. For one, loose papers look like a substitute teacher handing out busy work. Additionally, when a screenshot is enlarged to fit a page, the presenter can come across as decrepit with jumbo sized text. If not coming across as near-sighted, printing text so large could be suspiciously catered to the eye of the camera as opposed to the authenticity of the interaction. No other receipt has achieved the same “object” status as Monique’s binder, in part because of the attention given to them in editing. Perhaps there was some sort of grace extended in how the editors treated Monique’s responses as entirely legitimate, knowing that this Reunion was her last.
The reunion is the official close of the season as it airs. However, the ‘in the field’ documentation of their lives traditionally wraps with a Finale Party, often billed as a Vow Renewal, Product Launch, or House Warming, ideally something that functions to conclude a relevant storyline. Airing as the episode just before a Reunion they’re like a Rehearsal Dinner. These Finale Parties function much the same as the moments just before a Tribal Council on Survivor. Contestants on the show have time after challenges to mingle around the campsite. This is the final opportunity to make their case to each other, and if necessary, selectively reveal their Immunity Idols if it helps steer the vote. Housewives reveal their Immunity Idols here too. The most iconic Housewives moment of all time, Teresa Guidice flipping a table out of frustration with Danielle Staub, was all about a book.
‘Cop Without a Badge’ is a crime novel published in 1995. The main character was based on Kevin Maher, Danielle, ex-husband. Danielle was also inserted into the book, the content of which has been the subject of several lawsuits. But in 2008, Bravo was launching their Real Housewives franchise and eyeing New Jersey. It was the first season of The Real Housewives of New Jersey, with the flagship series only two years in itself. Looking back, the average viewer's media literacy would likely rewatch this season with a totally different understanding as opposed to first viewing. The composition of the cast wouldn't make much sense if it was assembled now, for instance. Jersey’s first season had five Housewives total where a modern season would skew higher. Three of those women were relatives- either sisters or sisters-in-law of the Manzo family. Teresa herself became a de facto member of the family when Dina Manzo was made godmother to her daughter Audrina. That left Danielle Staub totally on the outs with virtually nothing to do with the rest of the cast. The main storyline of the pilot is that Danielle is grappling with a sudden distance between herself, Dina and Jacqueline Laurita. The relationship only devolved from there and scenes with the Manzo clan rarely featured Danielle, whose story lines became about her relationship with her daughters. In ‘Confessionals’, where Housewives are interviewed to provide additional insight to serve as narration in the final edit, the divided houses exchanged increasingly biting insults. We the audience know this tension must be building to something, but if they refuse to interact with each other, what’s the reason?
Before anything was recorded, something had to be presented to a production studio articulate the vision of the pitch. What qualifies Danielle, notably the sole unmarried woman of the five, to be cast in the inaugural season of a fledgling franchise about housewives? Particularly when she barely had a relationship with the rest? Sure she’s beguiling, glamorous, and entertaining, but would those traits alone be a sufficient portfolio for jaw dropping drama? This book was out there for anyone to find. Danielle had her name legally changed to avoid associations with her past, but really you can only go for so long in a tight knit community without a few skeletons falling out of the closet. And with the scrupilization of a reality production crew? Forget about it. It’s fair to assume that, sure, this book would have gotten out there at some point. But golly gee did it come up on the show just when they needed a reason to get the girls together to close out the season with a Finale Party.
The waters are muddied. We’re told that off air, a book was presented at their salon, Chateau. We’re given different recollections of who and how it was brought out. But then it gets back to Danielle, and Caroline Manzo, who had formerly sworn to have nothing to do with Danielle, concedes that they owe her some sort of explanation. She could detect that they had potentially reached the point of ganging up on this woman. So they meet in a private dining room at The Brownstone, an event dining hall operated by the Manzo family. The tension could be cut with a serving knife. Nobody acknowledges the obvious. Danielle seizes control. She casually pulls out a hardcover copy herself and casually places it on the table. It sits like a chunk of enchanted stone charging a sacrificial altar to summon thunder.
In the Confessionals, Team Manzo shades Danielle for being willing to address adult topics with “her kids in the room”. Maybe that’s because the crux of Danielle’s complaint is that this book was presented in public, which felt like an attempt to humiliate her. The Manzo’s themselves can’t seem to get their own story straight. A major crack in the united force is revealed when Jaquelynn won’t let Dina claim she had nothing to do with its appearance at the salon. Caroline did not act alone. While Dina rises in an attempt to flee, she can't help but try and get the last word in with “Nobody cares about your book, we’re talking about the present.” Her escape is halted by the literal fourth wall, we see her brushing up against a camera crew. She doesn’t end up leaving.
“The present is very much in the past, now, thanks to you.” is Danielle’s attempt at griping that same temporal lordship.
Like a rival enchantress, Teresa tries her hand at wielding that same summoned electricity. Something in that book has to be true, so don’t people have a right to know Danielle ‘has a past’? Danielle reminds Teresa she’s already admitted what was true about it- “Pay attention.”
And then it was game over. Teresa takes control. We’re beyond the book. Literally. Teresa seizes the game field itself, the table upon which the book is placed, like an enraged toddler catapulting the Monopoly board. It’s ‘iconic’, it’s violent, it will go down in history for putting RHONJ, and Housewives at large, on the map.
From this moment on, the story becomes about Teresa flipping the table and not Danielle being in the book. Danielle was happy to have the heat taken off of her, and therefore the table didn’t have to compete for attention against the book. This tracks with Survivor, with moments like J.T. Thomas trying to pass his immunity idol to Russel Hantz. ‘The-e Table Flip Moment’ was the center narrative of the Season 1 Reunion where Teresa aggressed her boss Andy Cohen as he tried to prevent her from attacking Danielle, who immediately sought to exit. We’re now twice extrapolated from ‘The Book’, with ‘The Table’ as our signature reference and this ‘Blowup’ being additional content about ‘The Table’. Now these women had something in common. A horrible series of interactions, sure, but they experienced them together, and production had something they could work with. The present is very much in the past, now, thanks to you.
Of note- Teresa was restrained multiple times in order to prevent further violence. She is one of three remaining "OG's", a title reserved for Housewives who have *stayed* on their respective franchises since it premiered. She remained on even through her incarceration for fraud. The circumstances are unique for every situation, but compare this leniency to Monique Samuels’ expulsion.
Teresa’s table flip moment at the was attempted to be replicated by Aviva Drescher. This was a quirky time in general for the New York franchise. It was between the seasons that featured Bethenny Frankel, whose production savvy was a reliable personality the show lacked. Aviva had made one too many enemies after accusing Carole Radziwill of not actually writing her autobiography about young widowhood. She didn't help her case when anxieties made their vacation more fraught than anticipated. So Aviva was on the outs. The one who was most likely to be “voted out”. But she had one last trick up her sleeve. Or, gown. It was her leg. Her prosthetic leg. She, like Danielle, slapped it on to the table. Unlike Danielle, Aviva was prepared with a perfectly crafted tagline for the moment “The only thing fake, or artificial, about me is this.” Her shoe was still attached, and its proximity to dinner plates was notably unhygienic, but obviously iconic. Visually arresting. It was camp. The reactions in the room were a mixture of feigned disgust combined with astonished delight. Notably this event was more open to the public than the private dinner at Jersey’s Brownstone, so the reaction was less controlled. We can almost see the witnesses scanning their peripherals as their reactions undulated between applause, laughter, or ridicule. As if her drag performance demanded an encore, she again picked up her leg and cast it on the ground, repelling everyone like it had a force field, always allowing the camera a clear shot at the limp limb. At this point Aviva herself is almost smirking at the absurdity. Harry Dubin, her ex husband, claimed in 2020 that Aviva told him her plan to throw the leg in advance.
It’s not surprising that propwork is frequent on the Beverly Hills franchise, given that they have a higher concentration of showbiz types. Camille Grammar, ‘OG legend’ though she may be, could not execute Kim’s stunt as effectively. Camille’s Hidden Immunity Idol was a Ball Gag. Like Monique, Camille was in a bit of a tight spot going into the Season 8 Reunion. Formerly, Camille went out on a high note. She was hated, but an iconic ice queen. The drama she was taking with her would be missed, but divorcing Kelsy Grammar can take a lot out of a girl. When Camille was ready to grace the audience again, the cast had gone through some changes, and she became less of a natural fit. She needed to have (read: start) drama with the new cast members in order to have storylines that didn’t rely on being a ‘Friend Of’ just a few. So, when Camille was in attendance at one of Kyle Richards’ luncheons, she seized her chance when Dorit chose to call her a “stupid c—-.” At the next luncheon, Camille’s cheeky response was to come ready to gift Dorit with a Ball Gag. A totally innocent gesture to encourage just a bit more active listening. Camille, as a graduate of the Vanderpump School of Chess, figured Dorit was in no position to take offense because Dorit herself had given Erika a pair of panties as a gag gift the season prior. But Camille, like a diligent artisan lugging her ax back to the village grindstone, used her limited appearance on the Season 8 reunion to again produce the Ball Gag. The audience knew it was coming because she revealed it in her dressing room while getting ready. There was something about her eye contact with the camera that read as her knowing that now she pretty much had to go through with it as it was already seen on camera, but at the same time instead of building suspense it took the wind out of her sails. Camille was so bold as to explicitly suggest that the Ball Gag be put on display at the Watch What Happens Live Clubhouse, alongside the Blue Bunny. Remember, Camille by trade is a Producer. But, for as much as she knows how to engineer a story, she didn’t have the power of the final edit.
Unfortunately, things got physical when props made an appearance at Atlanta’s Season 6 Reunion. Kenya Moore, the first black Miss USA, came ready with a bit of pageantry to control the narrative. To evidence her regal disposition, she flaunted a steely scepter. It was of quality build judging by the velocity of its heavy swing while Ms. Moore wagged it in Porsha Williams’ general direction. This wand waving was to emphasize a point about Porsha’s alleged infidelity. Porsha, verbally and physically attempted to shut down the conversation, grabbing the scepter and tossing it stage right as is doing so literally robbed Kenya of its implied authority. But like a stage magician, or perhaps a talent portion, Kenya pulled from behind the couch a megaphone. This absurdity prompted fourth wall aware comments like “Oh so we’re doing props now?” from Shereé Whitfield, and “You better have it ready at least” from Kandi Burruss when they realized it didn’t have the batteries properly installed. It was eventually turned on, and operated at full volume, obviously hurting Cynthia Bailey’s ears, not to mention any production staff listening in on the mic attached to each woman via headset. Porsha again escalated the situation and physically engaged Kenya, pulling her by the hair. Kenya immediately left, while Porsha writhed on the ground rapidly sequencing through stages of grief and eventually reaching a self awareness by repeating how much she has embarrassed herself. Porsha’s position on the show was immediately called into question. It didn’t seem like Kenya felt her use of props yielded a win. There isn’t much winning when she was left physically hurt- even if a possible takeaway was that she ‘won’ the moment because Porsha’s reputation became more perilous than her own. Additionally, these objects failed to reach the level of success of Kim Richards’ bunny because they were not featured previously as part of any plot. They were flashy, but not narratively intrinsic. And if your costars immediately call out the schmaltzy showmanship, the execution was surely lacking. Both Kenya and Porsha were recast the next season.
So if these reunions have become so ‘reverse-card’ centric, is it time for Bravo to consider how to neutralize them? Should they ban all objects from being stashed behind a couch- have they reached a point of resorting to some sort of TSA style clearance? They may not want to. As mentioned, Reunions are filmed in a single day at a studio. To an editor, that means virtually every moment will look the same.Presenting these objects is valuable in the video format because it is visually distinct. These moments can be teased in a trailer and force the audience to question for what reason the object appears, motivating them to tune in. And after the fact, a still image of the object being presented can function as shorthand to represent iconic Reunion moments. The people recounting those events (fans, bloggers, YouTubers) might be motivated to include a still image in their thumbnails of that moment if it offers visual efficiency. This is all not to mention how hard banning props, or visual aids altogether, would be to enforce given that these women are used to calling the shots in their own lives. Furthermore, while these shows air on the Bravo Network, each is produced by independently operating production companies, such as Evolution, Siren, and Shed Media. That might make enforcing a ban on props inconsistent across franchises, but the presence of their ‘boss’ Andy Cohen insinuates each castmate deserves the same options across franchises. Were Bravo to feel they needed to get a handle on prop usage, perhaps a compromise would be that each Housewife is given a minifridge and cubby directly behind each chair. They could be told that these personal stations must be prepared in advance. The mini fridge would incentivize their response to make sure their luxury needs are met and flaunted, and the prepared cubby could allow producers to check their contents before filming in order to remove any objects deemed significantly inappropriate.
Survivor was able to address a similar manipulation of their system. Their Immunity Idol rigging was the result of two factors- one, contestants realized that immunity idols could change aesthetics season to season, and two, that because most of the value a Hidden Immunity Idol had came from controlling who knew of its existence. Few other contestants really get a good look at it out of fear they could be caught with it. (Survivor Confessionals are filmed on the shooting location itself- it is possible for another contestant to spot you showing off an Immunity Idol when you thought you were only talking to the ‘audience’.) This perfect storm of secrecy and information control led to - Fake Immunity Idols. Contestants had started making their own counterfeits. They allowed their competition to find them, and then plan entire strategies around a trinket with zero in-game power. It's a genius piece of reverse engineering that feels totally appropriate for a show about employing every valuable skill to outwit, outplay, and outlast. These moments of craftsmanship relied on believability, so seeing artistic skills have value when physical endurance is so typically favored was satisfying to the audience.
These fake Idols can go a step further, and be ke pt by the person who made it, who then can present it at a Tribal Council with the intention of gauging the Tribe’s reaction in order to suss out true intentions, or just bluff their way out of scrutiny. Survivor (has permitted) these fake Idols to great successes. Allowing craft skills to be highlighted allows for more of their audience to feel appreciated, and they can maintain a degree of control by adjusting the aesthetic consistency of their own Hidden Immunity Idols in order to give Contestant a better shot at discerning what’s legit.
If Bravo hasn’t taken a hard line on these McGuffins yet, they’re not likely to. Maybe they’ve already figured out their own way to naturally address these homebrewed Immunity Idols. Maybe Bravo has accounted for their audience’s evolving media literacy. Maybe they can't go back and make New Jersey Season 1 look less contrived, but that same media literacy could be used to dissuade groveling prop use going forward. Like Fake Immunity Idols, if it’s not believable, it’s not worth it. As Kim Richards set an example for television gold, then maybe all those who fumbled in her shadow will serve as cautionary tales in poor propwork.
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