Why Reality TV Will Always Put Drama Before Welfare

The recent death of Love Island star Mike Thalassitis prompted widespread concern over the aftercare given to contestants who are thrust into the spotlight. Jessica Barrett reports...

Mike Thalassitis

by Jessica Barrett |
Updated on

The world inside the Love Island villa in Mallorca is so glamorous that since the show began in 2015, it has driven a 23% rise in British holidaymakers desperate to try to recreate it with their friends. In fact, the ITV2 dating show is so popular, there are now more applicants to appear on it than there are to attend Oxford University.

The show, which follows the drama surrounding the ‘coupling’ and ‘uncoupling’ of housemates over the course of two months, is actually more about offering aspiration than tales of true love. Its contestants are young, beautiful and have access to the kinds of extensive fast-fashion-laden wardrobes every 20-something dreams of. It’s sold to potential applicants as ‘going on an all-expenses-paid summer holiday to have the time of your life with single people on tap’. You could arrive unlucky in love, unknown and unemployed and leave with the love of your life, a million Instagram followers, a clothing range and the world at your fingertips.

Only, what is often missed out of this irresistible package that is dangled before applicants is that once the show comes to very high-profile end (the final episode of 2018’s series, won by Dani Dyer and Jack Fincham, was watched by a record 4.1 million), beyond the luxury villa walls the reality of returning to a ‘normal life’ is not just hard – it’s impossible. Your normal life no longer exists.

On the morning of Saturday 16 March, the body of Mike Thalassitis, 26, a contestant on the third series of Love Island, which aired in 2017, was found in woods near his Essex home. It was confirmed shortly afterwards by police that he had taken his own life, while reports suggested that he had been struggling with grief following the death of his best friend over Christmas, as well as the recent death of his grandmother, and was said to have been worried about money after receiving a tax bill that had left him in debt.

Amid the outpouring of grief at the death of the man who had been jokily dubbed ‘Muggy Mike’ during his time in the villa (a name that took on a less light-hearted tone in tabloids and on social media once the show finished), there was a desperate call for the psychological aftercare received by contestants to improve. Rachel Fenton, who appeared on the show in 2016, tweeted, ‘I hope this educates Love Island producers to provide the necessary support to everyone who enters the show. You get a “chat” with a mental health nurse before you enter the villa but that’s it. Not a single thing after you leave.’

Health Secretary Matt Hancock said, ‘I think that it is a duty of any organisation putting people in the position of making them famous overnight that they should also look after them afterwards.’ This was addressed directly by ITV’s creative director, Richard Cowles, who wrote in a letter to a newspaper, ‘This review has led us to extend our support processes to offer therapy to all Islanders and not only those who reach out to us. We will be delivering bespoke training to all future Islanders to include social media and financial management. The key focus will be for us to no longer be reliant on the Islanders asking us for support but for us to proactively check in with them on a regular basis.’ He added that Government mental health advisor Dr Paul Litch eld has been brought in to independently review the show’s arrangements.

Can there ever be enough help put in place for contestants faced with such a swift blast of fame, with all the social media trolls, tabloid attention, criticism, as well as the huge amounts of money and life- changing opportunities that accompany it? What infrastructure could realistically be sufficient to support every one of the 81 former contestants through the ‘what next’ of life once their fame begins to dwindle?

TV psychologist Jo Hemmings tells Grazia that this new aftercare policy ‘might not be able to solve problems’, but adds, ‘Aftercare can certainly alleviate the bewilderment, disappointment and anxiety that many feel when they come back into the real world. I offer this as a service to everyone I psych assess, at my own expense, as I know difficulties can arise for some time after a show is broadcast.’ She adds, ‘Duty-of-care psychology is about trying to find robust and resilient contestants, completing risk assessment and trying to ensure that transparency will give them the best and most honest picture of what is likely to happen, including the “talk of doom” about what unpleasant press reporting and social media abuse might occur.’

Mike’s death was preceded by the reported suicide of 32-year-old Sophie Gradon, a contestant on series two in 2016 (her parents have since disputed that her death was suicide and an inquest is due to determine the cause). There have been 21 reported suicides among US former reality television stars in the past decade. While there are many intertwined personal factors involved in any suicide, the rapid onset of fame for reality stars, as well as the modern development of fame on social media, appears to be an increasingly unkind place.

Many applicants for shows such as Love Island don’t seem to be aware that their true self is something producers aren’t entirely interested in representing. Pantomime characters, such as Mike’s ‘Muggy Mike’ persona, and Megan Barton-Hanson’s role as last year’s man-eater, are ratings gold. ‘The contestants are heavily produced. They’ll be told what to talk about and made to repeat certain conversations several times,’ a source on the show tells Grazia. ‘Behind the scenes, producers o en take contestants aside to try and manipulate what will happen during filming, to make situations more intense and extreme.’

There is an argument that these people know exactly what they are letting themselves in for – and that their desire for more fame leads them to disregard underlying mental health problems that fame could only make worse. But these are young people who are promised the world, yet given none of the equipment to live in it. Pre - and post- production aftercare is, of course, vital, but even with that firmly put in place, it still feels dangerously as though these type of shows will always put drama ahead of welfare.

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