`Real World' gets hot and bothersome
It's time for MTV to drop all pretense and just give "The Real World" the title that better represents what it aspires to be -- "Real Sex."
Yes, that's the name of an HBO program, and no, viewers don't see actual sex acts on the long-running MTV series, the mother of all modern reality shows. But for the past few seasons, sex -- with strangers, with roommates who were strangers a minute ago -- has been all that's preoccupied the series' producers. The current season is set in Philadelphia, which might as well be dubbed the City of Brotherly (and Sisterly) Lust.
Barely two weeks into the 15th season, there's already been endless chatter about all the hot bodies, the possibilities of sex between roommates, and even a show-tell-and-touch session starring one housemate's breast implants. There hasn't been a meaningful conversation about anything except sex.
At MTV.com, there's even a photo of Sarah (Miss Breast Implants), her lips slightly parted, her eyes fixed in a come-hither stare, with her head and hands on the bare chest of MJ (Mr. Hot Body). It isn't a still from the show but a lascivious promo with the words "Sarah Steals MJ: Let the bed-swapping begin!" that looks like it was borrowed from a soft-core porn video box cover.
Tonight's episode, airing at 10, has the roommates snickering like third-graders as they notice two pairs of feet jutting from beneath the tangled covers of Willie's bed. Of course, all the gawking is portrayed as even spicier since Willie is gay. (For that matter, so is Karamo, whose mere existence as a masculine black gay man has challenged his housemates' narrow notions about how a man who loves men is supposed to look and behave.)
Although the show has always had an eye toward roommate hookups, everything began to change with the super-sexed Las Vegas installment. In fact, the producers were so concerned with Trishelle's carrying on with Steven and Alton's crush on Irulan, they all but ignored such compelling issues as Alton and his family's dealing with the trial of the man accused of kidnapping and murdering Alton's younger brother.
That's the kind of event that probably would have gotten more attention when the show premiered in 1992, an odd experiment in exhibitionism and voyeurism. It seemed as if co-creators Mary-Ellis Bunim (who passed away earlier this year) and Jon Murray were really interested in revealing the fears, hopes, and lives of people between the ages of 18 and 25. They showed how these folks, some away from their parents and hometowns for the first time, were an unruly combination of naivete and know-it-all syndrome, grappling with what it means to be an adult, and how sheltered their lives had been in terms of race, sexual orientation, and other cultural and social differences.
As the first season in New York unfolded, with the Rodney King trial and the 1992 Los Angeles riots as a backdrop, racial tensions were never far from the surface, and they overflowed in a memorable screaming match between Kevin, an easily agitated African-American writer, and Julie, a well-meaning Alabama bumpkin. In Los Angeles the following season, one of the roommates, Tami, made the decision to have an abortion, and her housemates debated her choice. It was poignant to see that the one who most disagreed with her decision, Jon, a born-again Christian from Kentucky, was also the most supportive.
In 1994, "The Real World" reached its zenith in San Francisco, as much of the show dealt with Pedro Zamora's dignified struggle with AIDS. (He died months after the season finished taping, and one day after its final episode aired.) Though few expected the show to ever match that emotional high point, there was a general feeling that "The Real World" had blossomed into a program that would speak to a generation's issues and challenges.
Now, with its annual parade of perfect smiles and bodies -- anyone with more than 5 percent body fat need not apply -- "The Real World" has nothing more on its mind than alcohol-soaked revelry and the sex that usually ensues. Perhaps fueled by the salaciousness of other reality TV shows, the program has surrendered to society's most bottom-feeding beliefs about young people as empty-headed morons concerned only with bacchanalian excess, which has become as boring as it is plentiful.
If "The Real World" was once a fascinating window into the lives of young adults, now it's little more than a peeping Tom snatching glimpses of what happens when people stop being polite and start getting drunk and naked.
Renee Graham's Life in the Pop Lane appears on Tuesdays. She can be reached at graham@globe .com. 
