'Kid Nation': Fun and games?
July 29, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television critic
BEVERLY HILLS, Calif. -- The scene opens on a distraught young boy. You see tears leaking behind his eyeglasses.
"I'm feeling, like, really stressed and really worried. It's just been really stressful and tough. I guess I'm just gonna have to keep pushin'," he says, and he sniffs up runny snot.
In another scene, a different little boy weeps. "What I'm really missing is my brother. Because he is in a wheelchair. And um ..."
He can't continue talking because he's overcome with crying and sadness.
These are the types of tragic interviews we're used to experiencing after some nutcase shoots up a school.
But this is a CBS reality-competition show called "Kid Nation" that I think of as "Survivor: Clearasil." CBS has not given TV critics a full episode, yet. These crying-boy scenes are from a preview trailer promoting the show, which premieres Sept. 19.
The trailer is the most disturbing thing I've ever seen in relation to a prime-time show. The first two times I watched it, my stomach turned. Literally. I thought I was going to vomit. Not metaphorically. And I don't even have kids.
In "Kid Nation," parents of 40 children ages 8 to 15 let producers take their children out of school in March and April to be bused to a privately owned ghost town-turned-movie set called Bonanza City, N.M. For 40 days, the kids ran the town. They cooked, cleaned toilets and operated a root beer saloon.
"No parents, no teachers anywhere," the narrator says in the trailer.
Hundreds of other adults were behind the scenes. In addition to camera operators, there were pediatricians and child psychologists. Yes, "Kid Nation" was so hard on these kids' lives, they needed therapists to get through the show.
Oh, and there was an animal wrangler, partly, maybe, to handle the snake you see slithering around.
What CBS is delivering here is yet another reality show where the images flashed before us are those capturing the worst in people. But this time, it's children. One girl stands in front of the kid-run town council and verbally attacks another kid.
"Even when you didn't have a job, YOU DIDN'T WORK," she says, and her eyes bug out exactly like a judgmental audience member at a Jerry Springer taping.
How did they get away with this? Producers couldn't film "Kid Nation" in most states, because most states have decent child-labor laws. New Mexico didn't. And producers, working with lawyers, officially declared "Kid Nation" to be a "summer camp" instead of a workplace.
CBS Entertainment President Nina Tassler told critics the kids weren't employees of CBS. I asked her if that means none of the kids or their parents have paycheck stubs as a result. She said no. A CBS spokesman then told me each child was paid a $5,000 stipend. Some kids also earned a $20,000 block of gold shaped like a gold star, if they won various challenges.
They were not allowed to phone their moms and dads; they were told they could quit the show if they wanted.
New Mexico has since changed its child-labor laws (not because of "Kid Nation"). But executive producer Tom Forman told the Television Critics Association convention that he's already started the casting process for a second season.
"I plan to find the right location that seems right for the kids and right for the show and investigate the laws at that location," Forman said.
Right. Maybe the sequel can be "Kid Nation: Cambodia."
Wisely, labor laws in California and New York forbid kids who are residents in those states from even appearing in a show like "Kid Nation." Thus, there are no New Yorkers or Californians in it.
Tassler said the show gives these kids a chance to make a "statement." A critic asked, "What kind of statement would an 8-year-old feel like he needed to be making?"
"You know what?" Tassler said. "You would be incredibly surprised. They're incredibly articulate. They have very strong opinions and, in many cases, their own worldviews."
Forman, a father of two, said he forged the show because he was "bored by the genre, bored by the sort of Hollywood reality types that auditioned for every show I did."
The kids were ideal because they didn't know what they were getting into, the way adults do in reality shows, Forman said.
"They tell you what they think. They tell you how they feel. If they are sad, they cry. If they have a crush on someone, they talk about it. If they're jealous or angry, they fight. It's everything that's best about human beings and, at times, worst."
Since TV execs want to air provocative or "sexy" shows, a critic said to Forman, "So you have 40 kids for 40 days and 40 nights. That's not sexy."
Forman replied, "Really?"
He tried to assuage concerns. "I think, almost to a one, the kids would tell you this was the best experience of their lives. I think, almost to a one, the parents agree," he said.
The children leaned on each other when they had emotional difficulty, he said.
If TV critics have reservations, I asked Forman, how will viewers take to "Kid Nation"?
"It seems outrageous" if judged without seeing it, he said. "I lived it for 40 days, and so I know what happened. I talk to these kids constantly now, so I know how they're doing.
"So if I don't seem to share everybody's concerns, it's not that I'm not a parent and not that I don't care. I just -- I have the benefit of a little bit more information. I think we'll get some tune-in based by the 'Oh my gosh, I can't believe they're doing that' factor. And then my hope is people stick around because they are, in fact, compelling stories about amazing characters."
Perhaps he's right. Maybe other critics and I are reacting too sensitively. I will reiterate I have not seen a full episode. But that CBS preview trailer and the show's legal maneuverings don't pass the early smell test.
I would feel better about "Kid Nation" if CBS showed raw footage and final product to five independent child psychology experts in America, let them interview some kids and crew members, and let those experts issue their own findings.
I did find two TV critics who told me they had no problem with the idea of the show. One was a parent. Another was not. "It's entertainment," the non-parent said, and he pointed out that in a way, "Kid Nation" is no different than fictional shows starring child actors.
"You're right," I said. After all, Danny Bonaduce, Dana Plato, Todd Bridges, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson were allowed to enter show business as children, and look how rich and famous they turned out.
delfman@suntimes.com
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television critic
BEVERLY HILLS, Calif. -- The scene opens on a distraught young boy. You see tears leaking behind his eyeglasses.
"I'm feeling, like, really stressed and really worried. It's just been really stressful and tough. I guess I'm just gonna have to keep pushin'," he says, and he sniffs up runny snot.
In another scene, a different little boy weeps. "What I'm really missing is my brother. Because he is in a wheelchair. And um ..."
He can't continue talking because he's overcome with crying and sadness.
These are the types of tragic interviews we're used to experiencing after some nutcase shoots up a school.
But this is a CBS reality-competition show called "Kid Nation" that I think of as "Survivor: Clearasil." CBS has not given TV critics a full episode, yet. These crying-boy scenes are from a preview trailer promoting the show, which premieres Sept. 19.
The trailer is the most disturbing thing I've ever seen in relation to a prime-time show. The first two times I watched it, my stomach turned. Literally. I thought I was going to vomit. Not metaphorically. And I don't even have kids.
In "Kid Nation," parents of 40 children ages 8 to 15 let producers take their children out of school in March and April to be bused to a privately owned ghost town-turned-movie set called Bonanza City, N.M. For 40 days, the kids ran the town. They cooked, cleaned toilets and operated a root beer saloon.
"No parents, no teachers anywhere," the narrator says in the trailer.
Hundreds of other adults were behind the scenes. In addition to camera operators, there were pediatricians and child psychologists. Yes, "Kid Nation" was so hard on these kids' lives, they needed therapists to get through the show.
Oh, and there was an animal wrangler, partly, maybe, to handle the snake you see slithering around.
What CBS is delivering here is yet another reality show where the images flashed before us are those capturing the worst in people. But this time, it's children. One girl stands in front of the kid-run town council and verbally attacks another kid.
"Even when you didn't have a job, YOU DIDN'T WORK," she says, and her eyes bug out exactly like a judgmental audience member at a Jerry Springer taping.
How did they get away with this? Producers couldn't film "Kid Nation" in most states, because most states have decent child-labor laws. New Mexico didn't. And producers, working with lawyers, officially declared "Kid Nation" to be a "summer camp" instead of a workplace.
CBS Entertainment President Nina Tassler told critics the kids weren't employees of CBS. I asked her if that means none of the kids or their parents have paycheck stubs as a result. She said no. A CBS spokesman then told me each child was paid a $5,000 stipend. Some kids also earned a $20,000 block of gold shaped like a gold star, if they won various challenges.
They were not allowed to phone their moms and dads; they were told they could quit the show if they wanted.
New Mexico has since changed its child-labor laws (not because of "Kid Nation"). But executive producer Tom Forman told the Television Critics Association convention that he's already started the casting process for a second season.
"I plan to find the right location that seems right for the kids and right for the show and investigate the laws at that location," Forman said.
Right. Maybe the sequel can be "Kid Nation: Cambodia."
Wisely, labor laws in California and New York forbid kids who are residents in those states from even appearing in a show like "Kid Nation." Thus, there are no New Yorkers or Californians in it.
Tassler said the show gives these kids a chance to make a "statement." A critic asked, "What kind of statement would an 8-year-old feel like he needed to be making?"
"You know what?" Tassler said. "You would be incredibly surprised. They're incredibly articulate. They have very strong opinions and, in many cases, their own worldviews."
Forman, a father of two, said he forged the show because he was "bored by the genre, bored by the sort of Hollywood reality types that auditioned for every show I did."
The kids were ideal because they didn't know what they were getting into, the way adults do in reality shows, Forman said.
"They tell you what they think. They tell you how they feel. If they are sad, they cry. If they have a crush on someone, they talk about it. If they're jealous or angry, they fight. It's everything that's best about human beings and, at times, worst."
Since TV execs want to air provocative or "sexy" shows, a critic said to Forman, "So you have 40 kids for 40 days and 40 nights. That's not sexy."
Forman replied, "Really?"
He tried to assuage concerns. "I think, almost to a one, the kids would tell you this was the best experience of their lives. I think, almost to a one, the parents agree," he said.
The children leaned on each other when they had emotional difficulty, he said.
If TV critics have reservations, I asked Forman, how will viewers take to "Kid Nation"?
"It seems outrageous" if judged without seeing it, he said. "I lived it for 40 days, and so I know what happened. I talk to these kids constantly now, so I know how they're doing.
"So if I don't seem to share everybody's concerns, it's not that I'm not a parent and not that I don't care. I just -- I have the benefit of a little bit more information. I think we'll get some tune-in based by the 'Oh my gosh, I can't believe they're doing that' factor. And then my hope is people stick around because they are, in fact, compelling stories about amazing characters."
Perhaps he's right. Maybe other critics and I are reacting too sensitively. I will reiterate I have not seen a full episode. But that CBS preview trailer and the show's legal maneuverings don't pass the early smell test.
I would feel better about "Kid Nation" if CBS showed raw footage and final product to five independent child psychology experts in America, let them interview some kids and crew members, and let those experts issue their own findings.
I did find two TV critics who told me they had no problem with the idea of the show. One was a parent. Another was not. "It's entertainment," the non-parent said, and he pointed out that in a way, "Kid Nation" is no different than fictional shows starring child actors.
"You're right," I said. After all, Danny Bonaduce, Dana Plato, Todd Bridges, Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson were allowed to enter show business as children, and look how rich and famous they turned out.
delfman@suntimes.com
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