When Gemma Rose Barnes, 32, signed up to appear on Married at First Sight (Mafs) – a reality TV show that introduces couples for the first time on their wedding day – she felt apprehensive. She told the show’s producers that she wanted to meet the love of her life, and was worried she’d be married off to someone who hadn’t gone on the show for the same reason. “They told me that audiences now wanted to see genuine matches, so I had nothing to worry about,” says Barnes.
But what was sold to her as the chance to find The One quickly descended into a nightmare. Barnes says she made repeated complaints to the producers about her husband. When she asked to leave the show, she says she was coerced into staying – although Channel 4 claims that she was free to leave at any time. She says contestants were plied with alcohol, and that on one occasion producers snuck extra drinks to certain cast members before filming. Channel 4 denies this, claiming that alcohol consumption is at the discretion of individuals, “but it is monitored and limited by the production team”. Other contestants have spoken of being “smashed” during filming after sneaking in bottles of alcohol, as well as dramatic arguments being sparked by participants drinking on an empty stomach.
Another contestant from the series, George Roberts, was arrested after appearing on Mafs, following allegations from three of his ex-girlfriends that he emotionally abused them. Channel 4 said it had no knowledge of the abuse claims, which were made before Roberts appeared on the show. Roberts has denied all allegations of abusive behaviour.
“I just really believed them when they said they would protect us,” says Barnes. She believes the industry is in urgent need of change, and that a reality TV union for cast members and crew could be the answer. “I’m concerned about this lather-rinse-repeat attitude to reality TV,” she says. “There should be some sort of organisation outside these shows where this can be managed.”
She’s not the only one who feels this way. In the US, Real Housewives of New York City star Bethenny Frankel is leading the charge to establish a union for reality TV workers – last week gaining the support of actors’ union Sag-Aftra. With the US actors’ and writers’ strikes seeing channels and streaming networks increasingly using unscripted programming to fill the gaps in their schedules, Frankel’s demands include a $5,000-an-episode base minimum pay for reality TV talent and a 10% raise each season for successful seasons, as well as talent being paid whenever their show re-airs on other platforms.
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She has enlisted two high-profile attorneys, Bryan Freedman and Mark Geragos, to work alongside her in investigating the treatment of reality TV contestants. Freedman told Variety last month that he has been contacted by about 50 stars who are willing to join their fight. “Hollywood is on strike,” Frankel said in a video posted to Instagram. “Why isn’t reality TV on strike?”
Jeremy Hartwell, a former cast member of Love Is Blind, believes a union could solve the “power differential problem” between participants and the corporations behind these shows. Earlier this year, Hartwell, with another former star, Nick Thompson, set up the Unscripted Cast Advocacy Network (Ucan) – a charity providing reality TV cast members with legal and mental-health support. They were motivated by their experience on Love Is Blind, where they claim they were given limited access to water and food, were rarely allowed outside, and deprived of sleep – conditions Hartwell likens to “CIA interrogation tactics”.
![Portrait of reality show participant Jeremy Hartwell in a T-shirt and jacket](https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/fc4e11adaada3e06d10794aa2d95f7b835531118/0_135_2823_3527/master/2823.jpg?width=445&dpr=1&s=none)
After leaving the show, Hartwell filed a lawsuit against Netflix and production company Kinetic Content for “inhumane conditions”, in a case that is still ongoing. “I was just bogged down with this question of how could this be legal? And how can human beings do this to other human beings?” he says, of allegations that have been vigorously denied by Kinetic. “Those questions just burned my core.”
From speaking to dozens of cast members from other shows, Hartwell realised that complaints of mistreatment were not specific to Love Is Blind. Freedman and Geragos seem to agree, having said that they have been “inundated with a litany of horror stories and abuse” from members of a series of shows and have sent a letter to US network NBC Universal (whose programmes include Below Deck and the Real Housewives franchise) warning them of impending legal action. (NBC says that its shows are “safe and respectful workplaces”.)
Thompson and Hartwell both allege that there was a failure to provide proper mental health support before, during and after appearing on Love Is Blind. Kinetic has claimed that there were “rigorous protocols” in place to protect contestants’ wellbeing, but one former cast member accused producers of pressuring her to remain on the show after she told them she was experiencing suicidal thoughts. After filming, several contestants said they were left depressed, and enrolled in therapy.
Similarly, Barnes says she had a “mental breakdown” after appearing on Mafs, and claims that, during the show, the welfare officer assigned to her by the programme-makers was “spread thin” between herself and other cast members. “It was actually a lot of runners dealing with you who weren’t equipped to deal with mental health issues.”
Channel 4 denies this. It says: “Contributor care and wellbeing is of paramount importance and appropriate support is available to contributors before, during and after broadcast.” As well as saying that all participants are subject to rigorous background checks and signed off by an independent clinical psychologist prior to taking part, it says that any contestant’s concerns about safety are taken “extremely seriously”. It states: “We would take prompt and appropriate action when needed. Any action taken would always be agreed with cast members to ensure they were satisfied with the resolution and outcome.”
Jo Hemmings, a psychologist who has worked in TV for multiple broadcasters, says that systems for reality show contestant welfare can be less than optimal across the industry.
“Generally, with only one welfare officer per show (who also has other production roles), if they are not available it does tend to get passed down the line to juniors – which is not an ideal scenario,” she says. In her experience, welfare officers tend to not work on set (although some of the bigger shows may have a psychologist on set), meaning the responsibility of providing support will fall with “which crew happen to be around”. She believes that “a union could regulate this random system”. Hemmings also thinks a union could be vital for the mental health of people after being on a reality TV show. “It’s a support network, at the end of the day.”
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For Thompson, a union is about ensuring cast members’ wellbeing is protected. “There needs to be somebody collectively representing these folks that go through these traumatic experiences [so that] they have negotiating power, so that there’s rules, laws and regulations in place,” he says.
Reality TV workers also hope that a union could help put an end to the unfair labour practices that have long plagued the industry. Unscripted programming will often generate millions in revenue per show – and yet cast members can be paid a pittance. On Love Is Blind, Thompson and Hartwell say they received a flat rate of $1,000 (£789) a week and were made to work up to 20-hour days. In the UK, Love Island contestants have reported being paid just £250 a week.
“Reality TV stars are often regarded as doing very little work, but I would argue that it’s one of the most draining and vulnerable jobs you can have,” says Layla [not her real name], a producer who worked on an ITV reality show. “Filming can be relentless. It is standard for the production crew to split days into two or three shifts, but the cast film from the moment they wake to the moment they sleep.”
Contestants are effectively paid with the promise of “exposure” – but appearing on a reality TV show is not a golden ticket to a career as an influencer or television personality. There are also the financial losses incurred by some cast members after appearing on TV. Thompson has struggled to find a new job after Love Is Blind, and was almost left homeless as a result. “You can’t pay people a stipend, make millions off of exploiting them and then just say: ‘We’re done with you,’” he states. “There should be residuals [long-term payments to performers for reruns and other airings of their shows, meaning they benefit from their success] for people who are on streaming platforms. That is no different than what the WGA and Sag are asking for.”
But while a reality TV union looks a genuine possibility in the US, forming one could be complicated. Partly, this is due to the freelance and fixed-term contracts, and the revolving door of cast members. There are also questions about how it would work. “If [the crew] have loyalty to the company, they won’t necessarily feel any obligation to listen to the union,” says Layla. “If a Love Island contestant said they didn’t want to work any more because of unfair conditions, chances are they’d be replaced.”
Layla believes that unionisation for reality TV casts could be even harder in the UK. “Fixed-cast shows, such as [The Real] Housewives or Vanderpump Rules, are less common here and, as a result, the cast are more disposable,” she says.
Thompson acknowledges that while unionising the reality TV industry is no easy feat, and certainly won’t happen overnight, it’s something that “needs to happen”. “[It’s] only going to lead to more exploitation if we don’t stand our ground, organise and come together – despite fame or followers – and say: ‘Hey, we’re not going to take this any more,’” he says. “The time is now.”