From what I hear, it’s pretty much standard practice to send tv script editors and others involved in bringing things to the small screen on Robert McKee courses.  Not just them in fact: ad agencies send their staff to get hyped up by McKee as he blunderbusses his audience through his scriptwriting bootcamp with his evangelistic take on all things story.  Like it or not, ad people are trying to pull on your heartstrings just as much as the dramatists we sanction for that purpose.

Makers of documentaries and reality shows are present at such events too, and the results are more than apparent at times.  Pretty much every reality show has a writing staff who engineer the escapades that its participants endure.  The lines might not be scripted, but with planning and editing it’s possible to create an experience that has the same shaped narrative arcs and emotional pull as a feature film.

One case in point is Gordon Ramsay.  He’s been reinventing failing restaurants in Britain for a while, and now he’s doing much the same in the States in Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares USA.  You’ll note that the premise is cunningly concealed in the title, making it that much easier to come to a decision when you’re scanning the listings.  It’s the same with films: beautiful movie Magnolia might be (is, in fact), but its bland title is nowhere near as indicative of its contents as 2001: A Space Odyssey, Slumdog Millionaire, or Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

The format is brilliant.  Ramsay is summoned to a restaurant that’s having bad times.  This evening’s featured a dysfunctional family for good measure: diabetic dad Joe can’t let go of the kitchen and criticises son Sam at every turn.  Mum wants the best for both the men in her life, but is it any surprise the business is failing?  Between the fetid emotional atmosphere and poor quality microwaved food, the Italian family and their restaurant are on the fast track to oblivion.

That neatly takes us to the first turning point in the story, when Ramsay stops acting like a concerned customer and starts work on turning the business around.  This is where his trademark swearing comes in, as Ramsay gets behind the scenes and discovers just how messed up things are.  It’s entertaining stuff with a good sideline in getting across how a professional kitchen should be run, and how far short of that many actual kitchens fall.

So, does all of this make Ramsay the hero of the show?  He certainly gets a lot of screentime, but seen from a screenwriting perspective Ramsay is in the role of mentor.  That is, he facilitates others to make changes while staying the same himself.  Ramsay’s tough persona is a constant, though we get to see cracks in it when he deals with his charges: he really does care, and he’s prepared to go to any lengths to achieve change.

No shortage of grounds for conflict then, with one of the world’s finest chefs getting stuck into a family situation that would do Freud proud.  And sure enough, there are fireworks, and a camera onhand to capture them.  There’s no emotion like vicarious emotion, and here there’s plenty of high drama in that regard.  Better yet, it’s unscripted: instead, energy has gone into creating a situation in which drama is unavoidable.

It’s after Brian the sous chef (he could have been a Sioux chef, this being the States) walks out mid-service that father and son are compelled to work together, like it or not.  At any rate, that’s how it comes across after the edit.  And, wouldn’t you know it, they pretty much manage to function as a team.  Not that dad’s going to give up on the kitchen easily: after spending his life in the trade, and convinced his son is useless, it’s difficult for him to move on.

All of which makes for compelling viewing.  Ramsay is a fascinating character, a tough love mentor who goads his charges into success and has no time for tired old habits, whether that means boil-in-the-bag chicken meals or a mother standing back from a situation between father and son that needs her active input.  Fabulous stuff, and after the payoff Ramsay gets to ride into the sunset, at least before coming back the following week with another recipe for putting a restaurant back together again.

What does all this mean for screenwriters?  Well, if the likes of Ramsay are finding gold on a regular basis, it’s our job to offer something even more precious.  That could mean added emotional intensity, greater stakes, or whatever.  But with reality tv delivering on those counts thanks to the application of concepts from the likes of McKee, the Hero’s Journey, etc, we’ve got to do something either above and beyond the hit that reality can give, or go in another direction entirely.