For some people the notion of being friends with Paris Hilton is about as appealing as swallowing hot coals marinated in brimstone. However twelve contestants and nearly half a million viewers would beg to differ. In ITV2’s latest reality show which premiered on 29th January eleven girls and one token gay man vie for hitherto untapped reservoirs of gut wrenching sycophancy.
Association with Paris Hilton Means VIP Access to Parties
Paris Hilton is perhaps best known for simply being known. A polymath of dubious distinction Miss Hilton has crammed a hell of a lot into the 27 years that the planet’s been blessed by her presence. Socialite, television personality, pop star, actress, and internet porn icon – few stones have been left unturned. Association with her means a guaranteed VIP pass to every party, bar and premiere in the country. It’s hardly surprising that the show’s producers didn’t struggle to find twelve willing volunteers.
The premise is suitable simple. Paris and her aptly numbered apostles must schmooze, dance and party as a single unit and each week the hostess votes off the one deemed most un-Hilton-like. It’s all padded out with the occasional polygraph, interrogation or Chihuahua and given a candy pink, cherry scented gloss.
What dazzles the viewer from the start is just how much care has gone into the choice of contestants. Each one simpers, screams, cackles and generally bleats out hyper emotional non-sequiturs at the camera while batting sabre like lashes at their idol. If this was considered a representational cross section of British youth it would be a cause for national shame. Fortunately one imagines the producers have carefully scoured the seedy underbelly of Heat-fuelled crack dens for their semi literate dozen. All the while Paris Hilton parades among them like an inebriated debutante in the royal enclosure at Ascot.
Hilton Reality Show Contestants Undergo Make-Overs, Learn to Walk Red Carpets
Each broadcast offers up an hour’s worth of vacuous escapism on a par with a particularly dreary episode of Big Brother. For every sparklingly quotable instance of knuckle dragging ignorance or bitter schadenfreude there is an endless monotony of inane prattle. Tasks, such as they are, involve undergoing a makeover or negotiating a red carpet, interspersed with epic bouts of group hugs and self congratulatory cheers.
Reality TV, by its very nature, has the capacity to challenge and intrigue. It gives us the voyeuristic opportunity to watch ordinary people in extraordinary situations. Paris Hilton’s BBF isn’t having any of that. Instead all you are offered is a group of bizarre, borderline psychotic, individuals placed in offensively drab, run-of-the-mill scenarios. Add to that the fact that Paris Hilton will undoubtedly never speak to the winner again once the show is over and all you really have is a twelve week series with no substance and no point.
Machiavelli
It has been suggested by various sources that Paris Hilton is a shrewd businesswoman. That the gormless persona she presents in programmes such as this is simply an act which she is exploiting to secure ratings and money. If that is the case then she deserves not only an apology but an Oscar as well. On the evidence here it’s unlikely though. It is also unlikely whether any of those sources praising her acting prowess have ever watched House of Wax.
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