In this space last Tuesday I fretted over the impending arrival of the Discovery Channel’s latest “reality” series, Clash of the Ozarks.
The series had not then premiered. Now it has. Episode 2, “Gates of Hell,” airs at 9 p.m. today if you’re interested.
The six-episode series following a clan war between the Hardy-area Russell and Evans families promised to lay bare the raw underbelly of a community that “still very much resembles a town right out of the Wild West,” where passions run deep and rugged frontier individuals live by the “code of the Ozark hills.”
That code, according to patriarch Gary “Crowbar” Russell, is “protect your family; defend your land; destroy anyone that gets in your way.”
Crowbar’s arch nemesis, businessman Kerry Wayne Evans (Crowbar pronounces it “Carawane”), told FoxNews, “When you live in a small community, you fight for what you believe to be right and that is what made our country great.”
Their conflict? Crowbar is hide-bound to the good ol’ ways, and the tie-wearing Kerry Wayne is an advocate for (his version of) change and progress.
“There are things we need in the community that I try to do,” Kerry Wayne says. “I’m not satisfied with the status quo. Progress is not a bad word.”
My pre-season concern was that the series was going to perpetuate the stereotype of Arkansans as hicks and hayseeds - xenophobic backwoods rubes sippin’ ’shine from a Mason jar, chewin’ Red Man and spittin’ the juice into a Hills Bros. coffee can.
That’s the track record for this sort of “reality” show. I could cite a dozen examples, from The Simple Life with Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie on Fox and E! to Discovery’s own Moonshiners.
Another early red flag was the melodramatic Discovery publicity that breathlessly pointed out that “lack of progression has turned Hardy into a land where emotions and territory conflicts outweigh a law-abiding society.”
That conjures an image of bullets whizzing down Main Street; of womenfolk hiding the children in the root cellar; of a town brutally divided by clan loyalties. “Whose side will you be on?” Discovery asked.
On which side, for example, is Hardy Mayor Nina Thornton? Contacted by phone, the affable Thornton was asked about the clan war raging in her lawless little frontier town.
“Isn’t fiction wonderful?” Thornton quipped. “I’ve lived here 25 years and I’ve known both those men and it’s going to be a great fictitious series.”
What? A reality show playing fast and loose with reality? Is there no clan war?
“We’re a tourist city,” the mayor said. “That’s what we do. We don’t have bullets flying down the street. We’re pretty calm and the tourists love us.”
In fact, Thornton didn’t even see the show’s production crew until near the end of filming, when they stopped by to ask if permits were required to film in town.
“These people don’t even live in our city limits,” Thornton said of the alleged “feuding” clans.
As it turns out, Clash of the Ozarks isn’t Thornton’s first encounter with a reality show. The Thornton family had been suggested as hosts when The Simple Life producers were scouting Arkansas locations. The Thorntons were visited, but turned down.
“‘Your family is not hicky enough,’ is what he told us,” Thornton said. “Our children wear shoes to school.”
Paris and Nicole ended up on the Leding family farm in Altus for a month. The Ledings and Altus came out looking just fine (although the socialites thoroughly embarrassed themselves) and Hardy will probably survive this embarrassment as well.
Having now seen an episode, it’s clear that the participants are not natural actors like the boys on Duck Dynasty. “Unscripted” reality shows most certainly do have scripts. Maybe the acting will improve as the series goes along and Crowbar will rise above being such a caricature.
There are two breakout characters for comic relief. Barefoot, overall-clad Jimmy Haney is, well, let’s call him “colorful.” He lives in a tent down by the river, carries knives and is wary of “flatlanders.” Thornton says what you see is what you get with Haney.
Then there’s taciturn 82-year-old Sevella Mae Terrell (Marty’s mom). She rocks on her porch, snaps beans and cleans her shotgun. Cleans it a lot. Think Granny on The Beverly Hillbillies without the sass. The Terrells and Russells are partners in the moonshine business.
What about that ubiquitous moonshine? To Discovery’s credit, there is a small disclaimer noting moonshine is illegal and “do not attempt any of this at home.”
Blink and you’ll miss the other disclaimer about “certain scenes contain re-enactments.”
In tonight’s episode, the bank has Crowbar’s land, he’s gotten an eviction notice, and Kerry Wayne is drooling over the prospect of bidding on the Russell property.
One final thing. Discovery thoughtfully provides English subtitles for Crowbar on occasion, when his hillbilly drawl becomes incomprehensible.
The TV Column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Email: mstorey@arkansasonline.com
Style, Pages 26 on 03/04/2014