The Contestant

One of my favorite websites I never talk about is 1-900-HOTDOG. They write daily comedy articles about "broken artifacts from the wrong universe". Which is a weird premise, right? Why do I care about a 90s comic book imprint where every one was designed to be ongoing but each got cancelled after a single issue by its own creator? Or an eBook from a self-proclaimed wizard who'll teach you how to use your pen for magic(k)? Or some goofy group dance craze a championship winning NFL coach tried to create to capitalize on the goofy team dance craze he created the previous year? I don't have an answer for you, or much to show for it.

Until today.

Two years ago, someone in the comments of an article on "Love in the Jungle" brought up "A Life in Prizes" as an example of the line blurring between between "reality show" and "cruel prank for the gratification of an insane producer". I was intrigued, and read as much as I could about the show, because it was so far outside the realm of believability. Yet, it clearly happened. My understanding was limited by the language barrier, as I cannot read/speak Japanese, but it was enough to be stunned and horrified and never forget. Most shocking was seeing that he attributed certain positive attributes to this period, such as his strong mental fortitude, and that it's made everything else seem somewhat easy by comparison. Granted, those also allude to the ordeal it was, but speak of a person who's come to terms with it all, even if it took a while. So as you can imagine, when I heard this doc was coming, I was eager for a more in depth discussion and reflection twenty-five years on.

For the uninitiated, "A Life in Prizes" was part of a larger reality show known for subjecting young, wannabe comedians to extreme situations. Tomoaki Hamatsu (better known as Nasubi) went to an audition, and upon being selected, was immediately whisked away to a sparse room and told to strip. He was given a huge stack of magazines, postcards, and a pen, and told he would have to win ¥1 million (about $9,000) in prizes. Additionally, they told him he was being recorded for a special to air at a future date, which may never be seen at all. In reality, his days were edited into six minute segments and recapped every week: later, his every move was broadcast as an early internet livestream. There are a few extra twists of the knife which somehow make this whole situation that much more gut-wrenching, but I'll leave them for you to learn on your own.

The doc consists mostly of clips from the show (dubbed by Fred Armisen) interspersed with Nasubi reflecting on his time in that room, specific incidents, and his relationship with creator/producer Toshio Tsuchiya. Those comments are by far the most useful, as they help us better understand what such an unimaginable experience does to a person. He discusses his mental health, his inclination to perform for the camera, and the crushing loneliness, as well as a bunch of other details edited out of the finished package each week. For example, how he lived on crackers provided by the producers for the first few weeks so he wouldn't starve until he won some food. All of which is interesting...to a point.

As the recounting progressed, it became clear that neither the documentarians nor Tsuchiya nor Nasubi were interested in connecting the situation to any bigger picture. No discussion of Japanese (or global) reality TV at the time. Minimal speculation on why so many people were so fascinated by the spectacle. No commentary on any sort of aftermath for the show, and only some basic discussion of the lasting effects on Nasubi. Most gallingly, there was little attention paid to the ethics of the whole situation. Of course, just by presenting the situation and its horrors and hearing him talk about breaking down crying does present its own argument to a degree. But Tsuchiya didn't feel the need to justify it apart from "The gods of reality television gave us a great gift." Even the little interesting bits that came up weren't pursued. We learn early on that the door wasn't locked, and that Nasubi knew. Yet he stayed. You can make some inferences as to why, but it would have been far more interesting to get him to talk about it himself, and really dig into where that mentality came from. It's something that can come back around to how real-world pressures pointed him in a direction, what it says about Japan at that time, and where the country stands now.

The lack of any deeper societal context or analysis leaves the whole first hour or so feeling like an excuse to rebroadcast the show, as we see so many clips from his months in isolation. Which isn't to say they should have omitted them: they're invaluable to see how the show portrayed him and discussed his hardships. Rather, they just feel hollow without something more surrounding them. The short segment showing his various appearances on other interview shows and such post-challenge is a bit more instructive, even as it does little to comment directly on the show.

Then there's the final third, in what amounts to a twenty minute epilogue. It feels like a completely different movie, and seems to be focused on inspiring us and convincing us it all worked out, rather than holding any sort of mirror up to reality. It's centered around him using his fame to raise money for his hometown of Fukushima and help clean up after the nuclear accident, which then morphs into keeping the world's attention turned their way through an ascent of Everest. Which...okay, cool I guess. So what are we to make of him being thwarted by yet another tragedy while at base camp? You can view it as perseverance and determination, a trait he directly attributes to being greatly strengthened by the show, which comes into play as he pushes for another attempt the following year. But in the doc, its role is unclear. Which encapsulates that whole final section.

I also find it super fascinating that he talks a good deal about connection, about how humans cannot exist alone, and yet we get absolutely nothing about his personal relationships. Maybe that's something he didn't want to talk about, but it leaves me feeling like there was yet another huge chunk missing. No talk of friends, or lovers, or dating, and only minimal talk of how it impacted his relationship with his family, despite his mother and sister being two of the interviewees. We see him giving back to the community through service, but get no sense that it's even resulted in any bonds with its inhabitants. All of which combines to imply a very solitary, isolated, lonely man, yet is never commented on.

Ultimately, while the story of the show is fascinating in a car crash sort of way, I didn't come away feeling like I had any better understanding of Nasubi or the show. It remains this bizarre and terrifying period of time, and the idea that it wasn't the only one of its kind blows my mind. So while it's a good introduction to an event many today are likely unfamiliar with, it doesn't offer much past that surface level look. That weakness is present in so many documentaries I've seen lately (new and old), and points at this mantra I feel I've been repeating ad nauseam: finding an interesting story is the easy part, and only half the job. What makes for a great documentary is the other half.