Coming up with TV shows seems to be a never-ending voyage to the bottom. We’re on a quest to break through the mantle that is reality TV and one day discover the terrifying, molten core of television. Who knows what shows they’ll have down there? Probably the kind that can only exist when adjectives and nouns are allowed to have entirely unsupervised threesomes: Emergency Prostate Makeover. Celebrity Dog Hypnosis. Drone Strike Idol. A bit like Australian election slogans.
Another word combo that ought not to correspond to something anyone should be exposed to on a sofa is Dating Naked (Channel Ten). It’s everything that’s unwatchable about dating shows, combined with the gimmick of arbitrary nudity (I doubt this show is trying to be political). A double dose of disappointment, then, like finding out your uncle is not only racist but dabbles in homeopathy as well.
Occasionally this “Bachelor with bonus genitals” hints at some sort of higher purpose as if to make excuses for the fact it has lazily copied a format, then added a twist that barely registers (apart from the blurry bits that make the contestants look like they’re wearing underwear woven from mist).
The opening titles feature a song with the lyrics “I saw everything, I know you now”. I guess it could be true: nudity allows you to instantly know everything about someone via some sort of groin-telepathy. On top of that, the host tells us that the contestants are in search of “a naked love connection”, which makes me feel like a right fool for managing to somehow fall in love in my stupid, stupid clothes.
For whatever reason, finding this love connection necessitates participants going on dates designed to punish their newly exposed modesties. One date includes water-skiing, that sport-turned-S&M-activity wherein a man’s testicles are slapped by an entire lake.
Another date has them sent to a beach, thus condemning the pair to weeks of orifice-purgatory. By the time they get to violently bouncing on a dirt bike over rough terrain, I begin to suspect Dating Naked is funded by a religious thinktank so we begin to associate sinful nudity with divine reprisal from the natural world.
Unsurprisingly, the dates go just like a regular date thanks to the fact that most human beings adapt pretty quickly to situations where nudity is the norm. That’s the problem with Dating Naked: it doesn’t aim to be a promotion of nudism, nor are most viewers immature enough to find it giggle-worthy. The same gimmick could be (ineffectively) applied to Masterchef, Big Brother and The Voice. As such, expect Cooking Naked, Naked House Idiots and Naked Karaoke soon to follow.
From naturism to nature
If watching more male nudity than The Bachelor doesn’t appeal, try the excellent I Bought My Own Rainforest (SBS). In its illuminating, beautifully shot first episode, wildlife photographer Charlie Hamilton James introduces us to the 100 acres of rainforest he’s purchased – his attempt to do his bit for the planet (and here’s me thinking loggers made the best conservationists).
His patch of the Amazon quickly reveals itself as a microcosm of the twin forces of greed and poverty that are gradually turning the planet into a mahogany graveyard. At a time when the leader of a country can, without irony, say “coal is good for humanity”, the sight of Charlie – wonderful company in this series – crying on top of a felled tree is a timely reminder. Not only do we need to stop worshipping a shitty combustable rock, we also need to begin asking whether what’s good for humanity can converge with what’s good for the planet.
