I say it every year: this summer, I am not going to watch Love Island. I’m a grown woman! I’ve got better things to do! I’m too tired to contemplate the ethics of the reality TV genre! Sadly, in the words of Davide, one of this year’s contestants, I am a “liar, actress”. It turns out, once again, there’s quite a big gap between the person I want to be (culturally discerning, socially active on weeknights), and the person I truly am (someone who watches Love Island).
There is one consolation: this is the best series of Love Island in years. In fact – dare I say it? – it might just be the best thing on telly this summer, full stop. I refuse to wage psychological warfare on myself about this. I am addicted and I will not apologise. And, actually, it might be time that we stop feeling shame about reality TV in general. The genre is a bit like Shakespeare: you can do it lots of different ways, and it’s never, ever going away. And, when it’s done well… you’ll probably enjoy it. You might even learn something.
