BFF's

Attempting to ignore "Jersey Shore" and the media buzz surrounding the cast, their inability to name the pope, and a potential second season is nearly impossible. Buffered by appearances on Leno and Michael Cera's stroke of genius to market his upcoming film, "Youth in Revolt," in appearances with the cast (DJ Pauly D gives Michael Cera a blowout), "The Jersey Shore" has become the latest in a growing list of reality television obsessions. It has incited some great observations from media journalists, and some truly senseless junk from others.

Throwing a group of strangers into a tastelessly decorated house in a random locale has become a staple of reality television ever since MTV found success pioneering the formula with the "Real World" franchise. One would think that after a decade of replicating this formula, there would be little for an (critical) audience to glean from this subset of the reality television genre at this point, despite the endless production of these shows. The saving virtue of reality television is the low cost of production, and the relative ease and rapidity with which one can manipulate the narrative arc of a series through editing. This is why, year after year, countless variations on reality television subgenres continue to  litter both the network and cable television landscapes.

What "Jersey Shore" has proved, at least to me, is that reality t.v, and, specifically, what I call the "domestic-confessional" subgenre (or the "Real World" formula), has the potential to be more than the sum of its cheap production. MTV set out to make a show that makes fun of an absurd Italian-American stereotype; what they created is a sometimes disarming portrait the ability of strangers to come together and form palpable relationships with their housemates. " Shore" is the anti-"Real World" because it is predicated on the lack of authenticity associated with the guido stereotype. The show's producers milk guido and the word's various connotations for all it's worth; the result is pretty damn funny. However (at the risk of sounding corny), at the core of the show are the friendships formed at the house and the love that you believe these people have for each other. There are a few sour apples in the "Shore" cast; most notably Angelina (she brought all her belongings to the house in trash bags), who was kicked out of the house in Episode 3, and The Situation, who, in Sammi's words, is "not a good friend." Overall, though, the housemates respect one another and defend each other pretty admirably. After Snookie was punched in the face by a male gym teacher from Queens in Episode 4, the other housemates stepped up to take care of her, and, in doing so, created a sense of community within the house. In Episode 5, J-WOWW started a catfight in a bar when another woman called Snookie fat, sealing her friendship with Snookie. "Family" is a concept bandied about on the "Real World" in every season; however, "Jersey Shore" does family better in six episodes than the "Real World" has in 22 seasons (I can't speak for the nascent D.C. season yet).

"Jersey Shore" is very much aware of the upbringing of the cast in their various Italian-American families. The strong family unit is a characteristic associated with Italian-American families. This stereotype has negative connotations; consider the role that family lineage plays in the "Godfather" trilogy, which takes the stereotype to the extreme.  But there are also positive aspects of the Italian-American emphasis on family, which are given due respect on "Jersey Shore." When Ronnie's family visits the house in Episode 5, they are certainly difficult while Sammi keeps them waiting (she wants to look "the prettiest" for Ronnie's family). But, by the end of the day, whether due to skillful editing or actual events, Ronnie's family reconciles with Sammie and they end up having a good time together. Vinny, in the first episode of the series, admits that he will miss his family, "just like any other traditional Italian kid." Snookie tells the confessional that her mom is her best friend. Several of the cast members have lived with their families up until going to the Shore for the taping of the show's first season.

Every character, whatever their familial ties may be, sees the Shore house as a fleeting chance at freedom, far from mommy complexes, boyfriends, and other pressures that are part of living in the real world. That contradiction was always at the heart of watching a show called the "Real World." The special genius of "Jersey Shore" is that the cast recognizes that this near-mythic space, with its promise of trashy, alcohol-infused fun (and drama), represents something that is nowhere near a real life experience. They come to the Jersey Shore to party, to creep on chicks, to tan, to listen to awful club music...

As Brian Moylan points out in the article "Jersey Shore": A Field Study, "Shore" is great because the cast is already the epitome of sleeze. Essentially, there's no rock bottom for these characters; as far as the rest of America is concerned, this must be rock bottom. Yet again, the guido stereotype deflects the disingenuous posturing that is a key part of most reality television. The cast admits that they strive their utmost to obtain the guido or guidette lifestyle; this admission breaks the gestures towards normalcy that cheapen reality television in the first place. These people take pride in performance, but they also have fun with it. They recognize the potential for performance as an avenue for not only identity-formation, but the fulfillment of their desires. And if those desires don't extend beyond vibing on some dude or chick at Karma, who cares? Pauly D, Snooki, Vinny, Ronnie, Sammi, The Situation, and J-WOWW look like they're having a great time consciously embodying their fantasies of self-representation. 

"Jersey Shore" speaks to us on this wonderfully trashy level. What MTV is particularly aware of, and well-equipped to capture, are the exploits and indecencies of young people. The "Shore" cast complys beautifully, throwing fuel into the fire through their dedication to maintaining their ideals of hard partying and gut-level loyalty, to themselves and their friends. In my opinion, it's the most earnest show on television right now, in the best sense of the word. It's earnestness allows for an indentificatory space between the (mostly younger) viewer and the cast members, as this clip of J-WOWW, who has the post-club munchies in Episode 2, displays:

If you've never felt like this in your life, or can't reconnect with that blissful moment of pure, brainless delight at finding that perfect food for your tequila-soaked tummy, then perhaps you won't get it.