Duuuhh dah.
Duuuuuuuuhh dah.
Duh dah. Duh dah. Duh dah. Duh dah.
Duh dah. Duh dah. Duh dah. Duh dah.
DUH DAH.
Trumpet crescendo.
The infamous soundtrack from Jaws? Yes. But this week it could also double as the ominous sound heard by Discovery execs struggling to contain a growing backlash over a stunt it pulled during one of its biggest franchises: Shark Week.
Leading off the this year’s week of shark-infested programming was a two-hour program dubbed Megalodon: The Monster Shark Lives. That title isn’t quite as compelling as SyFy’s recent Sharknado, but it’s in the neighborhood. So much so that a whopping 4.8 million viewers surfaced to watch the show, the most ever in Shark Week’s 26-year history.
Including, I’ll admit, my family.
Megalodon: The Monster Shark Lives featured dramatic footage of researchers trying to solve the mystery of a sunken ship off the coast of South Africa, as well the inexplicable case of a whale in Hawaii that had had its tail bitten off … in one big bite. The only logical explanation, the researchers said, was that the monstrous prehistoric killing machine known as megalodon, believed extinct for millions of years, perhaps still swims deep in our oceans.
As the show progressed, scientists and photographers set a trap for the rogue prehistoric predator, which they estimated could be somewhere between 60 to 100 feet in length. They baited the megalodon with a 40-foot humpback whale lure and a chum slick of blood and guts five miles wide. And then, amazingly, the thing actually showed up, sank the lure and swam to a depth of about 6,500 feet as breathless scientists tracked, then lost track, of it.
It was compelling television. Right up until the dramatic conclusion, we were sitting on the edge of our seats asking, “What’s going to happen?”
I’ll confess, however, that my wife and I also kept looking at each other throughout the show and saying things like, “No way!” “Nuh uh!” “That can’t be real.” Still, other than the fantastical nature of the creature, there was little in the “documentary” itself to suggest it was anything other than the latest real, albeit way over-the-top, Shark Week program. After all, what do you do to keep attracting viewers after three or four seasons of Air Jaws footage of Great Whites jumping out of the ocean?
The answer, of course, is to jump the shark in a different way.
At this point, I should also admit that I have a romantic—though not particularly rational—affinity for the possibility that certain mystical or prehistoric creatures might still be lurking out there. You know, like Bigfoot. The Abominable Snowman. The Loch Ness Monster. And I think a show like this one plays upon that fascination with mystery and a compelling desire to know what’s really out there in the deep woods, beyond the snow line and in the depths of the world’s darkest ocean trenches. Like Mulder from The X-Files, there’s a part of me that says, “I want to believe,” even though I know better.
This telegenic pursuit of a prehistoric creature played on that want. We now know that the gripping footage of the supposed Megaladon was staged and the scientists interviewed were actually actors. But the program looked real, following a format very similar to other programs in the Shark Week lineup. Few viewers noticed, it seems, the show’s briefly flickering disclaimer that read (in part), “Though certain events and characters in this film have been dramatized, sightings of (a possible megalodon) continue to this day.” I know we certainly missed it.
The problem here is that when a network invites viewers to believe in something that isn’t actually real, well, they’re not going to be happy when they realize they’ve been duped. Writing for discovermagazine.com, Christie Wilcox said,
Here’s what I don’t get, Discovery: Megalodons were real, incredible, fascinating sharks. There’s a ton of actual science about them that is well worth a two hour special. … The real science of these animals should have been more than enough to inspire Discovery Channel viewers. But it’s as if you don’t care anymore about presenting the truth or reality. You chose, instead, to mislead your viewers with 120 minutes of bulls‑‑‑. And the sad part is, you are so well trusted by your audience that you actually convinced them: according to your poll, upwards of 70% of your viewing public fell for the ruse and now believes that Megalodon isn’t extinct. Megalodon: The Monster Shark That Lives was not just a disservice to your genuinely curious audience. It was a lie. You used your reputation to deceive your viewers, and you didn’t even apologize for it.
Then she added, “Part of me is furious with you, Discovery, for doing this. But mostly, I’m just deeply saddened. It’s inexplicably depressing that you’ve gone from ‘the world’s #1 nonfiction media company’ to peddling lies and faking stories for ratings. You’ve compromised your integrity so completely with this special, and that breaks my heart.”
Wilcox was among the first to criticize Discovery. But a long line of rankled Shark Week fans queued up behind her. Hundreds criticized the move on Twitter and on the cable channel’s Facebook page. Brandon Sturgeon commented there, “Discovery….your programming has become a joke. What happened to the science, reality based programs that teach us about this wonderful world? Please read the comments in ALL the threads and take note. We want actual science. We want to watch your programming without wondering if its a hoax.”
I think that comment gets at the crux of it for me, too. My family has continued to watch Shark Week programming as this week has progressed. But more than once I found myself thinking, That’s interesting. … I wonder if it’s actually real.
I’m personally not angry with Discovery—though I do think the megalodon show stunt was an unethical and unnecessary ploy for viewership. But I do feel like I’ve lost some of the innocence and wonder that Shark Week once held for me. Instead of thrilling to images and interesting factoids about these amazing—and fear-inspiring—creatures, a part of me will now always wonder how much of what I’m seeing is real science and how much of it is fabrication for the sake of generating drama and ratings—just like reality TV everywhere else.
