Tuesday, December 10, 2013

"Best Funeral Ever" TLC Reality TV Show - Are You Kidding Me !!!! What's Next?

3 Viewpoints in 2 articles:

Posted at 01:35 PM ET, 01/07/2013

‘Best Funeral Ever’: Most frightening reality TV show to date?

I've been to a lot of a funerals. Never once did it occur to me to consider I might rank one "better" than another. After all, someone has died. But some people consider death a time to celebrate gaudily and that's where Dallas' Golden Gate Funeral Home comes in. And TLC's new show, “Best Funeral Ever” is positively frightening.
"Best Funeral Ever" (Jen White - TLC)
To be clear, I'm not passing judgment on anyone that chooses to make their funeral a big, even if ridiculous event, but those events are private. A television show that effectively trivializes death for the purpose of a party is not the direction that we need to be moving in as a society.
Listen, I get it. Absurd reality shows have become the backbone of television programming, in the way that game shows once littered the landscape. And as I said before, even in the face of seemingly obvious dysfunction, not all of these shows (such as “All My Babies’ Mamas”) are without merit.
But for “Best Funeral,” the problem is that there is absolutely no payoff. The show seems to highlight the fact that people think these forms of "mourning" are weird. The idea of inserting a reality show into the business of death is more ghoulish than I care to ever see again.

Some might say this is another program in a long line that makes black people look bad. Between the Real Housewives series, the Love & Hip Hop shows, the aforementioned “All My Babies Mamas” and so on, there is no shortage of programming that seems to capitalize on highlighting how some people of color tend to operate. But this show is worse than that. This show makes America look bad.
The employees of the home are all black and everyone they go to for commercial help is white. The show isn't some commentary on race relations, but you can't help but notice the obvious juxtaposition of seemingly confused white folks to the funeral home hijinx of the negroes celebrating death.
At one point, we are informed by John Beckwith, Jr., owner/CEO, that his company has a little secret: professional mourners. In his class – yes, they have a class to instruct their employees how to feign grief — Beckwith says, “not all families know how to show their emotions. Some families need someone else to start crying, before they can start crying.”
He then stresses the importance of proper alligator tears. “A mourner can make or break a funeral,” Beckwith instructs. “This family has one time to celebrate their loved one’s funeral. We must get it right.”
Seriously, TLC? In a time when we're forced to witness funeral after funeral due to the ills of an allegedly civilized society that finds people senselessly taking lives, you're airing a show where people are faking misery for money in real life?
In one show scenario, the original singer of the Chili's Baby Back Ribs song is being celebrated. The funeral features a BBQ-sauce fountain, a casket that looks like a smoking pit and a Flinstones-sized prop of a side of ribs. There is a ceremonial dipping of a rib into the barbecue sauce as some sort of commemoration.
Another is a Christmas-themed event, complete with double-digit farm animals as part of some sort of Nativity scene. Lastly, there's one service in which Golden Gate holds a funeral at the Texas State Fair. They bring the urn to the fair and let the family ride the rides with it. The cause is noble enough: the deceased lived with a physical condition that prevented him from ever enjoying such a pleasure while he was alive.
I understand that moments of levity can be helpful, even cathartic. I remember when an aunt of mine passed in 2004. She always had a knack for finding the fun part of life. And during her service, when a man nobody recognized found his way to the pulpit during the remembrance portion and loudly longed for a person of a different name, the comedy of the gentlemen's obvious confusion broke up the tension in the room.
It was exactly the kind of unplanned, irreverent moment befitting of who she was. "Of course that happened," we all said to each other afterward. And not in a bad way. Nobody likes funerals, but they are a part of life. I have no issue with Golden Gate Funeral Home doing what they do to make money, but TLC's exploitation of how families mourn their dead is shameful in an era in which we can barely focus on keeping each other alive.
Clinton Yates is a columnist for The Root DC.


Dallas mortuary’s TV show is a controversial undertaking

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Lara Solt/Staff Photographer
John Beckwith Jr. (top center) and family members Carolyn Haynes, John Beckwith Sr. (seated) and John Beckwith III own Golden Gate Funeral Home, one of the nation’s largest and most respected African-American funeral homes.
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Apparently, not even death can kill reality TV.
But even for a shameless genre that spawned such boob-tube tomfoolery as All My Babies’ Mamas andHere Comes Honey Boo Boo, the latest lure, Best Funeral Ever, may take the cake.
Most shocking is that the TLC series, which debuted as a pilot program in January and made its season premiere Monday night, was launched at one of the most respected and largest African-American funeral homes in the nation.
And that, for better or worse, happens to be in Dallas, at the Golden Gate Funeral Home, a fast-growing family-owned enterprise that is a force to be reckoned with in the multibillion-dollar-a-year nationwide funeral business.
John Beckwith Jr., a charismatic 47-year-old whose uncanny sense of humor belies his profession, is the front man for Best Funeral Ever, which turns the solemn into spectacle.
Episodes feature everything from fake mourners, which Beckwith says he’s never used other than in the TV show, and a wedding for the cremated remains of a couple that died 10 months apart.
Nothing seems off limit, whether it’s putting someone in a chocolate casket or staging a track race for a former Olympic runner.
For all that, Beckwith has been lampooned. Some critics say he’s turning the mortuary business his parents founded into a national laughingstock.
“It’s official,” Nsenga K. Burton, an editor-at-large for The Root, wrote after the pilot aired in January. “Reality-television executives have lost their minds … setting back images of black folks in television at least 60 years.”
You won’t hear me trying to talk Burton out of her unsparingly harsh characterizations. Black folks waitedforever for some TV show to put their family life in a positive light. So it’s fair to wonder whether this genre is working to undo what The Cosby Show finally achieved 29 years ago.
“I get what they’re saying,” Beckwith said. “But there is another side of the story.”
And here’s where Beckwith shines, where his business savvy shows and one appreciates the method to this madness.
“One of the biggest problems we’ve had in the funeral business was it’s so secret,” he said.
So a few years ago, to demystify his trade, Beckwith started hosting a local weekly TV and radio program called Ask the Undertaker.
He also launched a ride-along program that allows people to shadow Golden Gate officials and observe how they work with families.
“The only limitation we have is that they are not allowed to go into our morgue, for privacy reasons,” he said. “And they can’t go into our files.”
Beckwith is breaking down other barriers, too: In a business that remains largely segregated, he’s trying to attract more Latino and Anglo families.
“We want to bury everybody,” he said. “But more than anything, when a family walks through those doors, we want to make them feel special and empowered at a time when they’re grieving.”
His easygoing if unorthodox approach is working. The small business that started in Waxahachie 33 years ago has expanded to Fort Worth and Louisiana and settled into larger digs in Oak Cliff.
The funeral home buries or cremates about 2,500 people a year and generates about $10 million a year, he said. “We’re definitely in the Top 5 of any nationwide black funeral homes,” he said.
Beckwith isn’t taking criticism of the reality show lightly. When some of his longtime customers first saw it, he said, “They were like, ‘John, what are you doing?’ We really surprised people with the plot.”
“We were a little upset” at the initial reaction “because we thought people knew us,” he said. “More than 98 percent of our services are traditional.”
Several families featured in the show were among the 200 guests at a red-carpet event that Beckwith and the show’s producers hosted Monday night at the University of North Texas at Dallas.
The families said the zany services were cathartic for them and in keeping with the spirit of those laid to rest.
“When you’re watching it,” Beckwith said, “I know you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. But we’re not celebrating anyone’s death. We’re celebrating their life.”
James Ragland writes on race and culture, education, social services and public health. Follow him on Twitter at @jamesrag land61 and on Facebook at facebook.com/JamesRagland61.

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