As accusations of sexual assault emerge from the dark underbelly of Channel 4’s hit series Married At First Sight, superfans like me are shocked. But should we be?
I do now feel regret at having binged every series of MAFS in light of allegations which emerged yesterday from two British women who say they were raped during the filming of the British version and a third who said she had been the victim of a non-consensual sex act.
MAFS has often been described by its millions of devotees, of which I am one, as their ‘guilty secret’. But these allegations have given that term a new meaning.
For those that don’t know how MAFS works, it is a reality show in which complete strangers, matched by experts, ‘marry’ at first sight (the weddings aren’t legally binding) – then spend three months together, mostly holed up in a flat, trying to make their ‘marriage’ work.
It’s an intoxicating, if voyeuristic, watch.
When MAFS first launched in 2015, the contestants were mostly rather innocent, beautiful ‘brides’ and handsome ‘grooms’, all roses and wedding frocks and dreams of a fairytale ending which, of course, only a tiny fraction of them ever achieve.
We got to know the couples intimately and were taken in great detail through their travails.
But over the years, the series delved increasingly into the sex lives of the couples, and even I and my MAFS WhatsApp group – yes, I proudly belong to one – started to find it unsettling and the relationships increasingly controlling.
Bec turned out to be a monster, and any shrink would have diagnosed her within minutes as being emotionally vulnerable, writes Amanda Platell. And yet she was allowed to carry on attacking all the other ‘wives’ simply because it made great telly
We all understand that it’s the job of TV bosses to come up with the craziest, most out-there concept to attract viewers, spawning similar formats such as Love Island, Naked Attraction, Temptation Island and The Great Sex Experiment to name but a few.
But they all have one thing in common: as the popularity of these shows has grown, so has the willing participation of weird, ambitious or emotionally fragile people gagging to take part with a view to becoming a celebrity, whatever humiliation it involves.
Some may be looking for their happy ever after. But many more are clearly there to promote themselves. Not so much looking for love – but social media followers.
For three months they get prime-time TV exposure and you increasingly get the impression these contestants know how to work the system.
How to create the best high-octane emotional storylines, how to string them out to get the most screen time, how to milk the emotions of millions of viewers every night.
Screaming matches, dramatic walk-outs, only to come back grovelling, heartbreak, breakdowns, cheating, dishonesty, humiliation. Over the years it has become clear that the more vile a person’s behaviour, the more airtime they get.
The latest series of MAFS Australia, which finished last week, has been the worst I’ve ever seen, with ugly, sweary rows between the female contestants.
The head of the ‘expert relationship panel’, Mel Schilling, whose job was to steer the couples through their relationships, but who tragically died before the series was broadcast, said on the final show: ‘In all my years of MAFS I have never seen women behaving so cruelly to each other. It was just vicious.’
Head of the ‘expert relationship panel’, Mel Schilling, who tragically died before the series was broadcast, said on the final show: ‘In all my years of MAFS I have never seen women behaving so cruelly to each other. It was just vicious’
She was, of course, referring to the worst-offending ‘brides’: Bec, Gia, Brook and Alissa (contestants only go by their first names).
It was clear from the beginning of the series that Bec was emotionally unstable. Even her father warned that she had ‘difficulty’ forming lasting relationships and was unpredictable and volatile.
Bec turned out to be a monster, and any shrink would have diagnosed her within minutes as being emotionally vulnerable. And yet she was allowed to carry on attacking all the other ‘wives’ simply because it made great telly.
Which makes me wonder. Though lawyers for CPL – the independent production company which makes the British version of the show – said its welfare system was ‘gold standard’, how comprehensive was it?
Did producers just rub their hands in glee thinking: ‘Here’s another fruitcake, totally unhinged, they’ll make great TV?’
Did the ‘brides’ now claiming sexual abuse raise the alarm with the welfare team during filming?
Most women who suffer such trauma would immediately flee the situation. After months under the intense conditions of the MAFS hothouse, did they have Stockholm syndrome?
Others might ask what these women actually expected when they signed up for the show. To knit together or play Scrabble with their ‘husbands’?
Now that Channel 4 has removed all episodes of MAFS from its online streaming service, and sponsors of the show frantically pull out of their contracts, I think I can say with some certainty we will never see the likes of it again on British TV.
But given MAFS is a massive franchised brand, I’m sure it will live on elsewhere.
As for me, a disgusted, disillusioned former fan, I’m simply ashamed I was one of the millions who tuned in and I vow to never watch another series.