Real Housewives of Salt Lake City transforms reality TV into art

The season 4 finale was a masterpiece, if I do say so myself

This week, Bravo aired the season 4 finale of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City—a 43-minute absurdist spectacle where the reality TV genre simultaneously cannibalized itself and reached its artistic zenith. If you don’t typically wade into the reality TV muck like I do, let me convince you with three reasons why this RHSLC episode has single-handedly elevated reality television to new heights. But first, the memes:

First there was the revelation of Monica Garcia, the latest addition to the cast, as a Deux Moi-like social media troll, alias RealityVonTease, dedicated to tearing down her fellow cast members. In this day and age, it’s incredible to conceive that a fan, someone from the plebeian ranks of social media, had propelled themselves to the patrician echelons of a Real Housewives cast. It was a meta twist that underscores a shift in Bravo’s signature television formula, moving away from highly produced depictions of “real life” to something akin to social media-driven Sims battles. The individuals on screen now navigate a delicate balance, simultaneously catering to and contending with the ebb and flow of online chatter—a dance of endorsement and anxiety. The women of RHOSLC were rightly rattled to realize that a member of these online fan armies was now their equal.

This brings me to the second reason, which directly links the Real Housewives universe with pop culture’s current preoccupation with class warfare. In recent years, an array of films and series has delved into narratives centered around working-class outsiders infiltrating and subverting the lives of the privileged. Think of works like Parasite, The Menu, Triangle of Sadness, Inventing Anna, The Tinder Swindler, Dirty John, and most recently, Saltburn.

This thematic thread explores the collision of social strata, providing a lens through which we can dissect the dynamics of power and privilege. Additionally, it provides about half of the audience with a surrogate to experience their comeuppance in this highly economically polarized societal moment we currently find ourselves in. Monica as a hero that eats the rich on our behalf and makes great TV in the process. The other half of the audience views Monica as a villain, a scammer, a barbarian invading a civilized world she doesn’t belong in. If anything, it’s fascinating to look at public response to the Monica drama as a kind of Rorschach test for reality TV audiences, revealing where they position themselves in the ongoing class struggle.

Reason number three becomes apparent when you examine the memes above: that production value, baby! In the finale, which brings the women to Bermuda for their annual cast trip, the editors and producers pulled all the stops to deliver something akin to HBO.

Big Little Lies likely loomed large on the mood board, but what rendered this episode cinematic in feel was its skillful channeling of various reality genres, crafting what could convincingly be labeled a reality TV pastiche. Heather Gay’s confessionals, detailing her discovery of the truth about Monica, felt like a plunge into a true crime documentary like Snapped. The dramatic music, coupled with b-roll footage of storm clouds enveloping the women and their idyllic setting, were straight out of the Survivor or Milf Island playbooks. The climactic dinner where the women confront Monica seemed a direct nod to one of reality TV's earliest viral moments—Sue Hawk's infamous "rats and snakes" monologue from the first season of Survivor.

I loved that final shot of Monica getting ousted from the trip by the other women, and walking past a production crew that doesn't even turn to acknowledge her. It evoked a scene in Saltburn (a film I enjoyed despite its many flaws), in which Barry Keoghan’s character walks past disdainful servants once he’s eventually banished from the namesake palace. These breaking-of-the-fourth-wall scenes, a reality trope perhaps most famously played in The Hills' series finale, have rarely been as poignant as depicted here - or as ominous.

Reality shows, as a rule, tend not to evolve much. Once they lock onto a dynamic that works—whether a character or storyline trope—they'll wring it dry until the show plummets into the abyss of staleness. The Real Housewives franchise, surprisingly, has thrived since 2006 by being one of the few reality TV sub-genres willing to adapt and change. Nonetheless, shows that I previously enjoyed such as Real Housewives of New York, Atlanta, and Potomac have all struggled to find their footing in our post-COVID times. The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City finale succeeded where the others failed by incinerating everything and rebuilding through a fusion of tropes and tricks inherent to other genres. In the process, they may have revitalized all Real Housewives shows, charted a new path for Bravo in developing future programming, and, quite possibly, delivered the first hour of reality TV that can confidently stand ten toes down against many prestige television shows airing today.