That 2002 was 21 years ago is obviously wrong in all but the most factual terms. The endlessly stylish and compelling documentary The Greatest Show Never Made hurls us back to that impossibly distant time yesterday when reality TV was the newest, most exciting thing and a man posing as a TV producer (or was he?) was able to attract hundreds of would-be contestants to audition for the latest entrant to the field, which would require them to give up their lives for a year. The chosen few duly handed in their notices at work, broke their leases, informed family and friends they were leaving and set off – with the passports they had been told to bring – on their new adventure. The only problem was that the show (which would require them to try to make a million pounds together over the course of the year) didn’t exist outside the producer Nikita Russian’s head.
Yes, his name was Nikita Russian. You might think that should have tipped them off. But 2002 was a more innocent time. No, really, it was. I remember. We were all sweet idiots. It was better.
