George Galloway’s cat cosplay! David’s dead! The age of shocking, sublime celebrity reality TV is over

‘It’s the most famous house in Britain!” the hosts AJ Odudu and Will Best kept telling us, repeatedly, with a slightly hostage-like tone, as they stood outside Big Brother’s compound preparing to welcome a new crew of celebrity contestants. It is the first series of Celebrity Big Brother since 2018, when the show was won by the soap actor Ryan Thomas on Channel 5. This time, ITV’s reboot features “stars” including the Princess of Wales’s uncle Gary Goldsmith, the Dragons’ Den success story Levi Roots, the former This Morning presenter Fern Britton and the former X Factor judge Louis Walsh.

During Monday night’s live launch, my social media feed was full of complaints that the lineup didn’t exactly scream A-list. Sharon Osbourne – who is married to rock royalty and can reasonably claim to be one of the first “reality stars” – is the most famous person there. But she is only staying as a “lodger” for a week, with her very own fancy private room. (Presumably ITV’s budget didn’t stretch far enough for a full stay.)

In the UK, enthusiasm is rapidly waning for “celebrity” reality shows. I’m a Celebrity … Get Me Out of Here! – formerly the jewel in ITV’s crown – had one of its lowest rated series ever in December. It was won by Made in Chelsea’s Sam Thompson – a lovable reality star turned presenter who has appeared on just about every “celebrity” show there is, from Celebs Go Dating to Celebrity Ghost Hunt, Celebrity SAS and, of course, Celebrity Big Brother. Recent series of the show have been overshadowed by rows over Nigel Farage and Matt Hancock appearing, with critics accusing ITV of helping to “rehabilitate” their reputations.

Love Island’s latest series was an “all star” season, which featured a squad of former contestants who have used the show to become celebrity influencers in their own right. The show was a ratings flop, pulling in a measly 1 million viewers on its finale night. It was a far cry from 2019, when the summer final drew 6 million viewers. Love Island initially became a cultural phenomenon by departing from the drunken conflicts we had been accustomed to seeing. Now, though, the “spon-con”-heavy show is seen as a fast route to influencer fame – and has suffered for it.

In the UK, viewers are gravitating towards shows starring “normal” people. ITV’s civilian reboot of Big Brother, which aired last year, was a ratings success and felt like a noticeable return to the show’s original premise of at least pretending to be a social experiment. Similarly, The Traitors UK finished a record-breaking run in January. Contestants such as the pantomime villain Paul Gorton and the secret mother-son duo Diane and Ross Carson stole the show, with 8 million tuning in to the nailbiting final. Elsewhere, Netflix’s Squid Game: The Challenge saw 456 “normies” from all over the world compete for $4.56m – reality TV’s largest ever cash prize. The show instantly topped Netflix’s most-watched charts.

Reality shows starring “normal” people seem to be trumping the allure of celebrities, because they can more easily attract viewers who don’t usually watch reality TV. People who wouldn’t identify as a “reality TV fan” – perhaps because the genre seems too low brow – are happy to watch The Traitors because it feels more like a social experiment than the slickly edited reality competition show it actually is. The same goes for Race Across the World – a BBC competition show that introduces us to teams who try to beat their competitors to different locations for the price of an air fare, without taking the plane. As viewers, we become deeply invested in their stories as they bundle in and out of buses and fight exhaustion. Despite the fact that it is quite clearly a reality show, it feels more like a semi-educational personal journey.

Celebrity shows are still thriving in the US, though. (The Traitors US, which features an entire cast of reality stars from franchises such as the Real Housewives and Survivor, is now the country’s most-watched reality competition show.) Maybe the economic circumstances in the UK have something to do with our attraction to previously unknown faces? There is an innocence to reality shows before they become a certified route to fame. We saw it on the early seasons of Great British Bake Off, Love Island and RuPaul’s Drag Race, right back to the original Big Brother in 2000. Amid a recession and a cost of living crisis, perhaps we are craving that type of connection with people who feel more relatable.

ITV’s first series of Celebrity Big Brother may still be a huge success. It premiered to a respectable 2.8 million viewers, which is more than the final Channel 5 series. Louis Walsh shows early signs of being a villain in-the-making. But I can’t escape the lingering sense that it’s all become too professional. The Love Island winner Ekin-Su Cülcüloğlu, for example, appeared on Dancing on Ice and the latest series of The Traitors US, before entering the CBB house on Monday night. Now, she is one of the favourites to win.

This week, George Galloway was sworn in to parliament after his byelection win. I was reminded of how ridiculous he looked when I first encountered him on series four of CBB in 2006, during which he cosplayed as a cat in a skin-tight catsuit, drinking pretend milk out of the actor Rula Lenska’s hands. Or remember when Angie Bowie was on the show when her ex-husband, David Bowie, died in 2016? That led to an epic misunderstanding and the eternal quote: “David’s dead!” There isn’t the same level of chaos (or desperation) when “celebrity” shows are packed with the same old professional reality stars, all hoping to use the platform to sell us teeth-whitening strips on Instagram.

Ultimately, reality TV is a casting director’s medium. The success of these shows depends most on the personalities we are watching and our varying connections with them. It’s early days but, with the exception of “Mrs O” – who, again, isn’t staying for the duration – there isn’t anyone in the CBB lineup who feels hugely surprising, or even a little bit rogue. (Where was Captain Tom’s daughter? Was she too busy salvaging the wreckage of her unauthorised spa?) Time will tell – and I’ll still be watching regardless – but like most “celebrity” reality shows, it’s starting to feel too predictable and formulaic to create TV gold.