Weighty issue: Is reality TV too harsh for kids?

By BRIAN LOWRY

Do spouse-swapping shows go too far in bringing children into the mix?

IT'S BEEN SUGGESTED that a society is judged by how it treats its most vulnerable members. If that's the case, history should view reality TV, circa 2006, in a particularly harsh light.

Next week MTV will premiere "Fat Camp," a feature-length documentary about overweight teenagers shipped away to shed pounds and, in theory, gain life lessons. For the most part it plays like a teen soap, only with real teens, whose oversized emotional frailty is filtered through an unblinking lens.

Good fun, huh? Pass the diet soda and butter-free popcorn.

We have long since moved beyond empathy for fame-seeking adults who willingly plunge into this murky pool, assuming a "Let the contestant beware" attitude. Yet in the search for new thrills and the often-pushed envelope's edge, younger and more susceptible subjects continue to get their 15 minutes in the camera's unforgiving glare.

Some media watchers, including Jon Stewart and the New York Times' op-ed page, have recently cited the indignities heaped on "American Idol" aspirants, such as Simon Cowell telling an androgynous youth that he should wear a dress.

To be fair, Cowell is the show, and in some respects his tough-love approach delivers a wake-up call for misguided dreamers to start planning for a future that's achievable.

More problematic, however, are programs in which parents bring minor children into the mix, including ABC's and Fox's dueling spouse-swapping and nanny shows, as well as Bravo's "Showbiz Moms and Dads." Kids are frequently painted as colossal brats, while pointing a finger at parents for their misbehavior.

THIS ISN'T TO DISMISS "Fat Camp" out of hand, since there are commendable aspects to it, including the very rare sight of teens who aren't stick-thin finding romance, or what passes for it at summer camp.

Those moments are largely undermined, though, by invasive images of an unhappy 14-year-old girl sobbing uncontrollably, or a sequence in which she inadvertently drops her towel, exposing her backside to giggling cabin mates and (albeit obscured by pixilation) the audience. A counselor chastising them for their insensitivity hardly compensates for the intrusion, or for a boy whose infatuation with another girl borders on stalking. These "characters" are the movie's stars, providing most of its drama.

Issues of propriety dealing with minors are "something that we think about very carefully," said Marshall Eisen, MTV's VP of news and documentaries, conceding that there are no firm guidelines "beyond our sensibility and experience in putting this stuff on the air.... We do wrestle with it, and we try to treat them with respect."

Of course, it's possible, even likely, that these youths will be thrilled by any exposure on MTV, just as "Idol" worshippers line up to be abused by Cowell. Besides, according to a Time magazine poll, Americans are highly skeptical regarding the reality content in so-called reality TV, much like the percentage of fruit in fruit punch.

Sounds good, but don't believe it. Reality thrives in part because fans accept its basic truth, meaning these kids have to live with the way they're depicted. And while that may be fine for "The Apprentice" gang, it's harder to rationalize running children through the same grinder.

What's next, "The Biggest Loser: Junior Edition"?

Given that it's inevitable real kids and TV are going to collide, here's a simple question any producer should ask: Would you want this televised if it was your kid, or a close friend's?

For those who can't honestly answer yes, it's clear who the biggest losers really are.

"ARRESTED," R.I.P.: "Arrested Development" signs off Fox on Friday with a two-hour marathon opposite the Winter Olympics in the kind of parting shot that ill befits a critically lauded Emmy winner.

The three episodes previewed are deliciously absurd, including Judge Reinhold becoming a TV jurist (with William Hung's "The Hung Jury" as his house band) and -- no lie -- a road trip to Iraq.

Clever as they are, those half-hours also underscore why the series withered on its hyper-creative vine, proving not only too droll for the (living) room but a trifle hollow, with little humanity -- such as the Pam-Jim relationship on "The Office" -- for a wider audience to latch onto.

So despite reported interest from other networks, here's a guess that the show has breathed its last -- news that's enough to make fans of smart comedy blue, even without the makeup.