Maybe it’s time to reconsider that ageist crack. After all, “The Real World” itself has become, in TV terms, a senior citizen. It is MTV’s longest-running series ever, with 191 episodes over those 10 years. That’s no small feat at a network with an attention span as long as Britney Spears’s skirts. An average episode now draws more than 2.2 million people, almost triple the number of viewers who first tuned in back in 1992. To celebrate itself, the show’s new season returns to the city where it all began: New York. But MTV isn’t the only network that owes “The Real World” a debt of gratitude. In many ways, the show pioneered the entire reality-TV genre. Would “Survivor” or “The Mole” have made it on the air if “The Real World” hadn’t proved that turning a camera on a bunch of nonactors without a script could be as entertaining as many sitcoms and dramas? Of course, that means they get some of the blame for “Big Brother,” too. “Too bad you can’t put a copyright on a confessional,” says Murray, “but I guess the Catholic Church has that.”
Bunim and Murray came to “The Real World” from opposing universes. He trained as a journalist and created documentaries for local news programs around the country. She was an executive producer of soap operas at CBS and NBC. They were brought together by a Hollywood agent, and they spent a couple of lean years toiling on various unproduced projects before finally hitting on “The Real World.” “We started with just the two of us, working around the clock. Now we have a company of 160 people–and we still share an office,” says Bunim. “We’re very tolerant of each other,” says Murray. “We recognize each other’s strengths.”
In a way, “The Real World” is the perfect marriage of their oddly matched backgrounds–unblinking reportage packaged in a dramatic narrative. “We took the documentary form and commercialized it,” says Murray. They didn’t always know what they were doing. For the first New York series, the duo originally planned to use six young adults. “But we got into casting and fell in love with seven people and we weren’t willing to give any of them up,” says Murray. “We had to put a rollaway bed in the hall at the last minute for Norm.” In fact, “Real World” houses–eye-popping palaces that have become as famous as many of the cast members–have often given the creators nightmares. In the first season, Bunim and Murray had to knock a hole in a wall so they could film in the kitchen. In Los Angeles, no one ever went into the living room. And as much as the show is supposed to capture the “real” life of 20-year-olds, “The Real World” banned televisions after the boring Boston cast spent too much time watching it. Ever notice how no one ever blasts the stereo? “We don’t allow music either,” says Bunim. “You can’t get any audio past it.”
But they obviously have the kinks–if not the kinkiness–worked out. The last two seasons produced some of the most compelling stories yet: Ruthie struggling with a drinking problem, Julie juggling her Mormonism with her blossoming sexuality, Danny and his closeted boyfriend in the military. The new New York show, which debuts on July 3, picks up right where those flamethrowers left off. The first episode breaks out in a mini race war when one of the white cast members tells two of his African-American housemates that his uncle in Ohio won’t hire black people because “they tend to be slower.” It’s a fascinating echo of the first New York season, where the racial tension surrounding Kevin gave the show its narrative focus. Bunim and Murray insist they don’t cast the show exclusively with an eye toward social engineering, despite all the angry black men, outspoken gays and naive virgins they’ve featured over the years. “When you say this show is about diversity–how could you not?” says Murray, who typically receives 5,000 applications per season. “But it ultimately comes down to who are the seven best people. All the story has to come from that cast. If you don’t have people with layers that are going to be peeled off throughout the season, you’re not going to get your 24 episodes of series television.”
After doing that for 10 years, Bunim and Murray suddenly find themselves Hollywood’s new producing sensation. Their bubble-gum-flavored “Making the Band” is in its second season on ABC. Fox is gearing up to debut “Love Cruise,” a sort of “Dating Game” on the high seas, while the WB has its “Mole”-like “Lost in the USA” scheduled for the fall. “It’s exciting because the networks’ minds are really open now to trying new things,” says Murray. “A few years ago there was one show we pitched and the programmer said she couldn’t really sell it because her boss kept asking for the script.” Not that Bunim and Murray are afraid of working with a script. They’re developing a movie with DreamWorks called “Stolen High School Video Tapes,” about a kid who hacks into his school’s video-surveillance system. They’re also experimenting with mixing reality and scripted programs. The most promising idea is called “Real Soap,” which is half on-air soap opera, half real-life scenes of the actors who work on the program. “You would die for a guy like Robert Downey Jr. to be on this show,” says Murray. “Every time he comes in, you go, ‘Hey, Robert. Anything new in your life?’ " And then you’d lock him in the confessional.
