The Mother of All Reality TV.

Remember Queen For a Day? It was a TV program that ran from 1956-1964 and was the precursor of today’s “reality” shows. That means it was cursed at before people knew how bad things would really get. Queen for A Day was hosted by Jack Bailey, a man of a certain age with beady eyes and a pencil-line mustache. Four women were interviewed by Mr. Bailey and whoever told the saddest story about her life, as judged by the audience, would be named “Queen for a Day.” In addition to being crowned and wrapped in a royal robe, she would be awarded numerous name-brand products. I miss it.

Today, all game show hosts are young and handsome in a bland way. Back then, a louche quality was accepted, if not called for. Jack Bailey, in particular, looked as if his jacket was lined with hot watches and gold chains. The contestants were different, too. The nation was closer to the Depression then, so people were still pale and thin, not the obese ogres you see today. (See post above.) If, say, Euphemia McTrash, was named “Queen For a Day”, they’d drape her bony shoulders with ersatz ermine and, above her blubbering, announce that her dream of owning a new washing machine has come true.

Why do I miss a show that Howard Blake, one of its own producers, described as “…vulgar and sleazy and filled with bathos and bad taste?” Not that it was more innocent than shows on television today, it wasn’t. The premise may have been charitable, but the goal was entertainment. So, it may resemble The New York Times Neediest Cases, but it has more in common with a public hanging. Not that it was more original, either. It was merely the televised version of a show that had been on radio for the previous ten years. Partly, I miss it because, unlike shows today, it was simple and easy to understand. You tell us about your bad times and we’ll show you a good one. Done. Now, you have a smash hit about man who isn’t a millionaire, but is paid to act like a millionaire and if he succeeds in convincing some beautiful, young woman that he is a millionaire, they get to split a million dollars, so he might as well have been a millionaire. Mostly, I miss Queen For A Day because there was no collateral damage. It may have been, as Shawn Hanley writes, “exploitation of human misery, wrapped in commercial plugs,” but it was honest about it. You watched it for a good cry, then went about your business. Today, “reality” shows are so bizarrely contrived and dubious in purpose, that they beg all sorts of questions: is it reality or is it fiction, are the contestants serious or are they kidding and do the producers expect us to believe them, not believe them or just pretend to believe them? None of which I would care about except “reality” shows threaten to blur all these distinctions out of existence. It would be nice, of course, if journalists helped us by addressing these issues, but the “real” ones won’t touch them. Instead, we have hours of entertainment “news” about “reality” shows and that gets a little weird. So, if I’m nostalgic about Queen for a Day, it’s because, at that time, free television didn’t cost so much.