Talk About Reality

With no end in sight to the writers’ strike—not until August, rumor has it—reality TV will become even more ubiquitous than it has been in recent times. (We don't mind and kinda like Snoop Dogg's foray into the reality sweepstakes: Father Hood.) VH1 has at least 3 new shows this season: Scott Baio is 46 and Pregnant; Brett Michaels: Rock of Love II; (both in their second seasons and useless for the most part, especially Rock of Love) and Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew. Now, over the weekend we managed to catch the first episode of the latter—the other 2 are an utter waste of time—and walked away from what seems like a cross between The Surreal Life and Intervention feeling uneasy, uncomfortable and even sort of guilty we were in on these people’s pain, mysery and alcohol and/or drug-induced shortcomings. It’s one thing to watch b-list celebrities—which is a generous description considering the cast consists of has-beens, one-hit-wonders, and a few that don’t even rate that high—further make fools of themselves with cheesy choices and non self-respecting lapses in judgement. Another is to witness them battle their all-too-real demons under sometimes harrowing circumstances. This is Breaking Bonaduce times two, people.