The Power of an Edit: Reality TV Wants You To Go Insane

By Quinn Jennings, Edited by Duncan Geissler

2025 marks the ten year anniversary of the genesis of the recurring sketch “The House” on Saturday Night Live which spoofed observational reality television, created by Beck Bennett and Kyle Mooney. Bennett and Mooney satirize the genre by continually writing themselves in dramatic arguments over mundane roommate conflicts and misunderstandings with celebrity hosts Will Ferrell, Chris Pine, and Chris Hemsworth. They parody the cliche happenings of reality TV, including flashbacks of things that happened 30 seconds before and intercuts of their accusatory declarations: “now I’ve really gotta figure out what’s going on.” Ten years later, their sketches are not too far off from the current reality television landscape. 

In the age of social media, it is harder for producers to curate a portrait of a contestant through editing. Attempts to encapsulate a digital image of the “crazy girlfriend” or “stubborn jerk” can now be refuted through Instagram story statements and TikTok lives. Reality television, including Love Island UK (2005–), Love is Blind (2020–), and Perfect Match (2023–) expand to a Marvel Cinematic Universe level of lore and, as a result, continually lose millions of viewers every season. Audiences can watch their favorite contestants (or participants in a Netflix “experiment,” in the words of Nick Lachey) on every device while also following them on Instagram, listening to their podcasts, and drinking their fitness teas. It is even harder to curate a captivating image of people who only submit themselves to these programs with the hope of being a star–or at least someone with more followers than you, the lowly viewer. 

The formulaic nature of competition shows with constant variables, such as cooking shows with repeated challenges, rely on editing portraits of individual personalities to keep audiences engaged. These shows continue to stay on air by imitating themselves; however, there is still spirit in these contestants. Chefs come with passion to prove themselves, drastically contrasting the vapid motivations and actions of many participants in reality dating shows. Observational reality television, including dating shows, are losing an authenticity that made the shows originally compelling, suggesting viewers craving an arc should turn to competition shows.

Out of an array of over twenty competition, reality, and travel television shows hosted by foul-mouthed celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay, Hell's Kitchen (2005–) stands apart. Inside the walls of Hell's Kitchen, Ramsay is not cooking dishes, renovating restaurants, or learning about different cultures: his job is to yell. For twenty-three seasons, Hell's Kitchen has brought chefs of diverse backgrounds and experience levels together to compete for a head chef position at one of Ramsay's acclaimed restaurants. The formula of the show remains consistent, with producers frequently repeating the same challenges, punishments, and rewards for the contestants; however, Hell's Kitchen remains fresh and entertaining for new and continuing viewers by highlighting the personalities of the chefs and the evolving complexity of food consumption. Although the show portrays a competition full of anxiety, anger, and tension, the show's approach to editing along with producer's attitudes towards contestants and Ramsay as the host create a chaotic and humorous atmosphere full of quips that proves itself as formulaic and therefore often satisfying to watch. 

Although Hell's Kitchen is a cooking competition, the majority of screen time portrays team dynamics, the personalities of contestants, and Ramsay's persona as an overbearing chef. A standard episode of Hell's Kitchen will be divided into two parts: a challenge that competitors must complete, ultimately earning either a reward or a punishment, and a dinner service in which the contestants work in teams to serve the dining room of Hell's Kitchen. The episodes follow a similar structure, with dinner service menus remaining the same and the challenges repeating throughout each season. Food serves as secondary to the subjects' personalities when forming a narrative in the show. In On Living with Television, Amy Holdsworth, a scholar in Film and Television Studies at the University of Glasgow, invokes the concept of patterned activities concerning food on television. She argues the process and "sequences of food preparation, consumption, and digestion can potentially rhyme with those of television" (88). The formula of Hell's Kitchen can remain consistent because it creates a well-structured television show. The strict patterns the contestants must follow when preparing food and creating dishes are enough to manufacture a functional organization for the events while still allowing the show to focus on contestants' psyches to create drama. The formulaic interactions the contestants experience with food guide the complex relationships and patterns of communication between themselves and Ramsay. 

For viewers, Hell's Kitchen as reality television provides an opportunity to judge the skills of professional chefs from the comfort and isolation of one's home and without proving one's own cooking skills. Because the audience does not engage with the food, the food is only emphasized through "the body of the performer, [offering] a vicarious point of connection" (91). For many viewers, the contestant's point of view is their only connection to an imagined position as a chef in a high-stakes position. It can be difficult to envision an environment where so much emphasis is placed on the importance of perfecting food when minute judgment of food is seemingly inconsequential in people's everyday lives. Food often serves as a source of "pleasure and comfort," so Ramsay's strategy of "[mobilizing food] as ways to control and discipline the reality television participant" with the threat that a food mistake can ruin one's career can come across as irrational to the average viewer who does not share a chef's food or business experience (94). Hell's Kitchen plays upon this idea by further emphasizing the experience of the contestants as participants of the show rather than focusing on the food.

The editing of Hell's Kitchen often proves itself to be absurd, most commonly displayed in the show's inclusion of "coming up next" segments. The show customarily tricks viewers by ending episodes with previews of storylines that never occurred in reality and will never appear on the show, breaking up the conventional structure of the show's cooking portions. Editors chop up clips to depict relationships, injuries, and pregnancy scares that are never actually experienced by the contestants. To keep the formulaic competition entertaining for viewers, editors manipulate clips to dramatize experiences in the kitchen, attempting to incorporate the personal lives of the chefs into the restaurant environment to elicit emotional investment from audiences. In season eighteen, footage of a chef receiving bad news in a future episode was made to look as if they were receiving news of a loved one dying when in reality, they were being told that the risotto was being taken off the menu. Editors take the initiative to sensationalize repetitive footage of dinner services by taking a clip of an angry chef picking up a knife and suggesting he will murder a fellow competitor on the next episode or adding siren sounds to a clip of Ramsay with smoke in his face to make the viewer worry that he now has irreversible third degree burns. The act of eating and depictions of food on television have been theorized as "one that simultaneously reinforces and dissolves those boundary lines between the self and the world" (94). Viewers are aware they are watching Hell's Kitchen from the show's structure and cooking components, reinforcing their idea of the show's presentation of reality. However, the characterization of contestants and unpredictable presentation of situations permit Hell's Kitchen to push the boundaries of what is rooted in reality. The teaser segments also set a tone of absurdism for the series to include moments unrelated to the competition narrative–like when a chef slipped a disk in his back while going to the bathroom or title cards that appear in talking head confessionals subtly troll the chefs. The editing of shocking storylines keeps new viewers entertained while satiating the expectations of old viewers, many of whom would have gotten used to the style and enjoy the "coming up" segments for the playful stylistic choices rather than the excitement of viewing the next episode.

The emphasis on humanity and playful editing of Hell's Kitchen manages to create a comfortable viewing experience for long-time fans and accessible entertainment for viewers who tune in for a few episodes or even one season. The show is not exhausting or emotionally taxing for audiences, even though they are usually watching contestants be verbally berated; the patterns of structure that menus and food-related challenges create establish a gratifying viewing experience. Maybe it’s an age-old philosophy, or maybe it’s something viewers yearn for in a time of uncertainty and daily moral complications: simple sells. 

RuPaul’s Drag Race (2009–) and its several spin-offs follow a similar formula with repeating challenges, but these shows have some of the most intensive filming processes and expenses for contestants’ makeup and outfits. The nature of the competition makes the show less observational television and more focused on the personalities and talent of the queens. Katya Zamolodchikova (Brian McCook) appeared on season 7 of RuPaul’s Drag Race and season 2 of RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars. Although she did not win either season, she has become an internet personality alongside fellow contestant Trixie Mattel (Brian Firkus). The duo occasionally comment on Drag Race contestants in real time as the season airs on their podcast, The Bald and the Beautiful with Trixie and Katya. While discussing the series in March 2024, Katya says that all but one of the verses from the season 16 group number made her want to “immediately break a window and take the shards and stab them in [her] eyes and ears.” When co-host Trixie chortles that it sounds like AI, Katya counters: “it’s not Chat GPT, it’s a nonunion writer with a gun to their head.” Fans have deemed Katya’s section in a group performance one of the most iconic verses in Drag Race history for her quips and expansion of her drag persona. The queens in the season 16 group number had vague lines about equality and pride; Trixie and Katya recount their own experiences on the show where producers encouraged them not to be too ironic and made it hard to “take the piss” out of cheesy prompts in challenges. 

Trixie and Katya discuss Emily Nussbaum’s article “Is ‘Love is Blind’ a Toxic Workplace?” in the same podcast episode. Love is Blind has traveled across the country with the absurd premise and extreme stakes: fifteen men and women go on blind dates in “pods” and flirt with strangers through a wall until a few couples emerge engaged, sight unseen. They are supposed to stay together until reaching the altar–where they can say “I don’t.” And many have, in fact, said no, making for great dramatic television. The show settles in a different city every season and was recently renewed for its ninth iteration, continuing to frame itself as a sincere experiment of human intimacy and attraction. Trixie and Katya were not shocked by the long work hours and isolation the Love is Blind participants described, as the experience reflected the process of filming RuPaul’s Drag Race. They were, however, disturbed by the accounts of Nick Thompson and Danielle Ruhl, a couple featured on season 2 of Love is Blind. The couple describe the toll the filming procedures took on them physically and mentally, including Ruhl’s paranoia that there were hidden cameras watching her. In a desperate attempt to escape production, Ruhl locked herself in a closet with a bottle of wine, sobbing, while Thompson was unaware of her whereabouts. These details never made it to air, but the couple’s conversation in the direct aftermath did, with Ruhl’s statements about lacking trust in the situation edited to be referencing Thompson conversing with other women at a barbeque rather than the Netflix production itself. Thompson believes his separation from Ruhl during her time of distress was strategic by the crew to spark and convey conflict. The couple got married and later divorced, describing their experience on the show as “hell on Earth.”

Conflict on Love is Blind has flattened over time, as reunion episodes and Instagram story statements villainize partners for being on the show “for the right reasons.” This phrase is difficult for participants to describe besides accusing someone of harboring their intentions for social media fame, but it is easily identifiable on screen to viewers. The production has been accused of harboring “unsafe and inhumane” conditions and has faced several lawsuits throughout its runtime. The scientific filter Netflix haphazardly throws over the thesis that love really can be blind does not hold producers back from cruel tactics to stir up drama for good television, leaving participants feeling misrepresented or violated. Edits that air hardly reflect the actual reality. 

Drag Race challenges expectations and attitudes about gender in the mainstream without the self-involved declaration of their strides. RuPaul Charles keeps this ideology at the center of the shows. He believes there is a “sisterhood” present in all the seasons as a result of a “shared experience of being outsiders and making [their own] path” (Wortham). After every season, contestants continue to work together, live together, and travel together–Trixie and Katya being a prime example of the success the show can bring. In the Drag Race universe, being a good contestant directly translates to fame or acclaim in the aftermath based on talent in beauty and drag performance. Alternatively, the rising popularity of Netflix reality dating shows has attracted participants who are on the prowl for any TV exposure and influencer status they can get and know what will make an “iconic moment” go semi-viral on social media. Contestants know what viewers expect–or want–from them. Reality television is shaped by performance even though that notion feels contrary to its premise. The structured chaos of competition shows allow the true oddballs and their passions to shine, allowing human honesty to transcend the age old formula.

Works Cited

Hell's Kitchen. Created by Gordon Ramsay, Fox, 2005–. 

Holdsworth, Amy. “TV Dinners.” On Living with Television, Duke University Press, 2022, pp. 77–106.

“The House with Will Ferrell.” Saturday Night Live, season 43, episode 12, NBC, 2018, https://youtu.be/6rgavv2gM5w?si=CXtU1qNgVnPCuEnk.

Kale, Sirin. “Has Reality TV Lost Its Bite?” VICE, 27 July 2024, www.vice.com/en/article/has-reality-tv-lost-its-bite/. 

Nussbaum, Emily. “Is ‘Love Is Blind’ a Toxic Workplace?” The New Yorker, 20 May 2024, www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/05/27/is-love-is-blind-a-toxic-workplace.

“Read U Wrote U.” YouTube, RuPaul’s Drag Race, 2 August 2018, https://youtu.be/PPTyqzM253Q?si=lBEKK1fbEM7-UlLX&t=131.

“We are the CEOs of Fierceness.” The Bald and the Beautiful Podcast with Trixie and Katya, 28 May 2024, https://youtu.be/wMoa1HOEBXY?si=UqrDy1kGoQJQipiU. 

Wortham, Jenna. “Is ‘RuPaul’s Drag Race’ the Most Radical Show on TV?” The New York Times, The New York Times, 24 Jan. 2018, www.nytimes.com/2018/01/24/magazine/is-rupauls-drag-race-the-most-radical-show-on tv.html.