You don't often hear TV critics claiming that the title of a reality series cheapens it. Usually, the show is far more hateful than its name suggests. If you tuned into the cheerfully titled ''Unan1mous" -- and you shouldn't, by the way, under any circumstances -- you might be surprised to find such a grim celebration of divisiveness.
But A&E's ''God or the Girl" isn't nearly as bad as it sounds. The new five-part series, which begins with two episodes on Easter Sunday at 9, is not an attempt to challenge priests' vows by seducing them with women who aren't exactly virgin Marys. It isn't what many have feared -- a ''Temptation Island" for men who are married to God. It's a documentary-style profile of four guys at a turning point, as they decide whether to become Roman Catholic priests.
The guys -- Dan, 21; Joe, 28; Steve, 25; and Mike, 24 -- seem serious about their conflict, which has more to do with the idea of celibacy than specific women in their lives. Each feels called, but unwilling to dive into religious life until he has searched his soul. It's almost jolting to listen to them talk about their choices, not because they're so unusual in their self-reflection, but because they're so different from most of the young men on reality TV. These guys are the antithesis of spring breakers; Joe's idea of a great vacation is to go to Germany for World Youth Day, to see the pope inside bulletproof glass in a parade.
The creators of ''God or the Girl," Darryl Silver, Stephen David, and David Eilenberg, neither ridicule nor revere their subjects, despite obvious opportunities. At regular intervals, one of the young men says or does something that most reality producers would exploit shamelessly, such as when Mike, who is dating Aly, says he resists making out with her because lust is ''sick and disgusting." ''The Bachelorette" would have hung an entire episode, and relentless promotion of the episode, around that comment. Joe, too, could be easily pathologized since he's so profoundly fearful of romance. And Dan spends his spare time praying at strip clubs and abortion clinics, a fact that the producers let us judge for ourselves.
The show also explores the formidable influences surrounding the men. Mike's priest, Father Pauselli, all but rolls his eyes when Mike talks about marriage and his attraction to Aly. He clearly wants his young friend to let go of romantic aspirations. And Joe's mother openly pressures him to take vows, saying, ''I would like one of my sons to be a priest." Meanwhile, Joe's brother works tirelessly to tempt Joe into romantic liaisons with women.
Naturally, this being a reality-TV invasion of privacy, suspicions arise. Are these men exploiting their indecision by sharing it on television? Yes, definitely. It's hard to understand why they would publicize their deepest questioning for the world to see. Sure, they grew up in the era of MTV's ''The Real World," when being on TV is almost the norm. But still, it's unusual to find men of God so willing to give up their privacy. Perhaps they felt, or were told, that ''God or the Girl" would provide positive press for a church still reeling from an abuse crisis. Indeed, Steve recalls a relative telling him, ''Everyone's going to think you're a child molester," to which he responded, ''Your attitude is exactly why I want to do this."
But are the guys affecting faith and confusion to be better TV characters? No, I don't think so. Each of them speaks clearly and soberly about his love of God, and there is no showboating for the camera. The only obviously false notes on ''God or the Girl" (along with the intrusive soundtrack) come when the guys' mentors encourage them to take on challenges, in the same way Jeff Probst sets up tasks on ''Survivor." Dan is asked to build a cross, which turns out to be 80 pounds, and then carry it 20 miles.
Let's hope he doesn't decide to become a priest based on his success or failure. If all it takes to be a holy man is muscle, then Popeye was a saint.
Matthew Gilbert can be reached at gilbert@globe.com. ![]()