Article:
Behind the scenes of Big Brother: 16 players, 54 cameras, 200 crewhttp://www.sun-sentinel.com/entertainment/tv/sfl-tvbigbrothersbfeb11,0,4176445.columnThere is no Big Brother house. This befits the slogan of the CBS reality series: Expect the unexpected.
The facility that 16 contestants will call home for varying lengths of time over the next couple of months is actually a renovated Studio City sound stage, with walls knocked out to create a backyard. The sitcom The Game is right next door. The shrub-rich courtyard in which host Julie Chen welcomes the recently dismissed contestants is under the roof of Sound Stage 18. The foliage and lawn are as plastic as your credit cards.
There are those who wish there was no Big Brother, period. Many viewers — some of whom have never seen the show — regard the fact that the summer success is getting a winter showcase, starting Tuesday, as one of the most regrettable ramifications of the writers' strike. But if detractors had the opportunity to witness the incredibly challenging way in which the show is produced, some opinions might be swayed.
During last summer's press tour, a small group of critics was invited to tour the Big Brother set. This included a walk-around in the two-way mirrored corridors, which make up the perimeter, and a sample of the notorious "slop," the tasteless granola-like cereal that often becomes a dietary penalty for a failed task. As a result of the eye-opening visit, at least one writer who had no use for the series has become a regular viewer.
It's almost impossible to witness all that it takes to put together the CBS show, plus the late-night editions on Showtime and the round-the-clock Internet site, and not be impressed. A staff of about 200 is split into shifts so that the house guests' every movement and sound are captured 24/ 7. No fewer than four directors in an eerily quiet control room constantly monitor a wall of 12 screens, searching for the best shots. The images are supplied by 54 cameras dispersed around the makeshift living quarters as well as within the hollowed-out walls. Another quartet of directors sits behind them, listening via headsets to the 80-90 microphones, including those worn by the players. Within the walls, the camera people, as well as visitors, have to wear black clothing or don vests so that their presence isn't discernible by the contestants. Conversations have to be in whispers.
While the house really isn't one, the producers do their best to give it a homey feel, although for a mischievous twist, the facility was transformed last summer into an Alice in Wonderland fantasy, with miniature beds and doorways and garishly painted walls. Still, this was preferable to the original Big Brother house, which was a couple of trailers cobbled together on a back lot.
Big Brother's first winter edition is going a more traditional route, a rustic cabin motif complete with fireplace, sauna and a giant mural simulating an outdoor lake. "It's 180 degrees from Alice in Wonderland," executive producer Allison Grodner said. "We like to turn things upside down."
The warm feel of the residence fits in with a twist Grodner has concocted. The 16 guests, including a public relations professional from Delray Beach named Adam, will be paired off as couples. They will compete as couples, strategize as couples and, at least in the beginning, be voted off as couples.
They also will sleep in the same bed, which they were not told until they entered the house. (Grodner would not specify precisely when this happened.) She allowed that this might not sit well with all of the guests. Her reaction: too bad for them, great for the show. "If everyone accepts this, it wouldn't be interesting."
Big Brother consulted with a match-making service to arrange the couples, although there is a possibility some incompatibles will be paired for the sake of theater.
Moreover, this is arguably the hottest cast in the show's history. You won't find a Chicken George, the portly fortyish Ohio roofer and family man who thought Big Brother would make him a star. All this season's house guests are single. Only one has reached his or her 30th birthday. The exception is a 45-year-old former Penthouse Pet named Sheila, who describes herself as "a cougar," says Grodner.
The hook-ups should help alleviate the boredom that is the biggest downside of being a house guest. There are no TVs, radios, cell phones, BlackBerrys or any other way to communicate with the outside world. Except for the few hours a week when they are competing, the contestants have to find ways to amuse themselves. They can't even sing to themselves because of song-licensing issues.
On the day of the critics' tour, half the guests were lying in bed, which is what they reportedly do for endless hours. Having a bunkmate could spice up things. If show-mances develop, so much the better.
The initial agenda follows the norm: nominations for eviction on Sunday, a power of veto competition on Tuesday (both on tape) and a live eviction on Wednesday. If the elimination-by-couples blueprint is adhered to until the end, Big Brother could have an uncommonly brief run of six or seven weeks, about half the usual. The prize fund has not been kicked up with the move from the offseason. The winner takes home $500,000, the runner-up $50,000.
One possible explanation for the potential quick ending is CBS is leaving its options open, in case ratings that have been solid for summer outings don't measure up during the regular Nielsen season. On the other hand, if things go well, the dual eliminations could be scrapped and the run could be extended almost to the end of the season in May.
Grodner is playing it coy about the game plan and end date. "You know Big Brother. Expect the unexpected."
