Sunday, October 5, 2008

Do home makeover TV shows exploit disabled children?

That's my question, but the New York Times Real Estate section dances around the question a bit in its story about the success of the ABC reality show, "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition," with its focus on families with devastating illnesses or disabilities in their midst. Personally, I believe something is wrong with American society when a family has to go on a reality show to get the accessible home they need. But that's just me wishing for an accessible, inclusive society.

In the picture, "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" host Ty Pennington carries Brooke Akers, 8, who is a wheelchair user due to spinal muscular atrophy, into her house. The NY Times story has a 14-photo slide show of the transformation of the Akers's house.

"Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" has been an extraordinary success, earning five seasons’ worth of top ratings and featuring the construction of 120 homes. Any given episode offers themes from several popular entertainment genres: the nuts and bolts of home renovation you find in the classic, ‘‘This Old House’’; a tragic human-interest story set to schmaltzy music à la the Olympics; an over-the-top demolition scene worthy of any Hollywood blockbuster; and, ultimately, a stunning new house that could be featured on ‘‘MTV Cribs’’ or ‘‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.’’

Americans have always been drawn to the idea of the makeover. Whether it is the story of the Pilgrims or Jay Gatsby, we cherish the idea of personal reinvention. ‘‘What we see on ‘Extreme Makeover: Home Edition’ may seem like cheesy little stories, but the heart of the narrative is also the heart of the nation’s supernarrative,’’ says Robert Thompson, the director of the Bleier Center for Television and Popular Culture at Syracuse University. ‘‘One could say that the entire history of this country has been one big, fat makeover.’’

Channels like HGTV have been churning out home-improvement shows for more than a decade, but what distinguishes ‘‘Extreme Makeover: Home Edition’’ is its sentimental core. In every episode, a family suffering hardship gets a moment of happiness. This is certainly the case with the Akerses. The father, Greg, and the 10-year-old son have an intestinal disorder called Crohn’s disease; the two daughters, ages 4 and 8, have spinal muscular atrophy and are wheelchair-bound. The Akerses’ home is not handicapped accessible, and the girls must either be carried or crawl on
their hands and knees. Their mother, Ginger, has to do much of the heavy lifting, and this recently induced a hernia. The idea of this particular episode, as the producers told me repeatedly, was to reward Ginger for being a ‘‘hero.’’

The culmination of every episode of the show seems plucked from the final scene in ‘‘It’s a Wonderful Life,’’ when the entire town of Bedford Falls rallies around George Bailey, the hard-hit but deserving Everyman. They give him the money he needs to avoid devastation — and show him the love they have always felt. This, more or less, was the plan for Ginger Akers.

This aspect of the show may seem maudlin, but it is embraced with seeming sincerity, not just by its viewers but by its producers as well. (Executive producer Conrad) Ricketts believes in the show with an almost evangelical fervor. He often gets misty-eyed as he likens the process of building an ‘‘Extreme Makeover’’ house to an Amish-style barn-raising and then solemnly describes how members of the show’s crew often ‘‘reconnect with their faith.’’

It was Ricketts who came up with the idea of helping needy families. Then the show was first given the go-ahead by ABC, this wasn’t part of the plan. The idea came to Ricketts during the casting process, when he discovered the family featured in the pilot. He was driving around Santa Clarita, Calif., when he came upon a small, ramshackle house. Standing in front of this house was a woman with her daughter, ‘‘the cutest little blonde that you have ever seen in your life,’’ Ricketts recalls. ‘‘The mom has a paintbrush, and she’s looking at this miserable house of hers, and I stopped and I looked and I said, ‘It’s perfect!’ I walked up to her and asked, ‘Why is your house the nastiest house on the block?’ And she says, ‘Mr. Ricketts, our little girl has been fighting leukemia for four years, and every dime we have has gone to help her, and we have no money to fix the house.’ And I knew, at that minute, this was the soul of our TV show!’’