42 items
A father and son building theme bikes and screaming at each other in a Hudson Valley shop. American Chopper premiered on Discovery on March 31, 2003, made Orange County Choppers' Paul Teutul Sr. and Jr. famous, and nearly a decade after its 2009 blowup handed the internet its favorite argument template.
Fox's juggernaut singing competition that made appointment television relevant again. Premiering June 11, 2002, American Idol invited America to vote for the next big pop star—and for most of the 2000s, you couldn't escape it. Kelly Clarkson's season-one victory launched her career and countless memes about Simon Cowell's withering critiques.
Tyra Banks turned the fashion industry into a weekly elimination bloodsport: makeover meltdowns, impossible photo shoots, and a panel that could end a dream with one photograph. And in 2005 it produced the eruption that outlived the whole series — "we were all rooting for you!"
The younger Simpson sister got her own MTV show, a number-one debut album, and a top-five hit in "Pieces of Me" inside one summer in 2004. Then came October 23 on Saturday Night Live, when the wrong backing track played, she did a little jig and walked off, and one bad night followed her for the rest of the decade.
The ballroom show that made Len Goodman, Carrie Ann Inaba, and Bruno Tonioli household names. ABC's Dancing with the Stars premiered June 1, 2005, as a six-celebrity summer experiment, and within a year its finales were pulling 27 million viewers.
The bald rocker who got voted off American Idol in fourth place, said "A little, yeah" when asked if he was surprised, and then put out a six-times-platinum album the season's winner never came close to. "It's Not Over" and "Home" owned 2007 radio.
Crab boats in the Bering Sea, forty-foot waves, and captains chain-smoking through the worst commute on Earth. Discovery's deckhand documentary turned Sig Hansen and Captain Phil into household names and made armchair viewers experts on pot counts and ice-covered rigging.
Mike Rowe in a sewer, cheerfully. Discovery's ode to the people who do the work nobody wants — and the host who spent a full day doing every job right alongside them, badly, gratefully, and narrating the whole time.
A family facing hardship gets sent on vacation while a crew of designers completely rebuilds their house into a dream home — then comes the reveal, a crowd gathers, and the chant erupts: "Bus driver, move that bus!" This was comfort-food television at its warmest, the feel-good juggernaut of the 2000s.
Six strangers, three progressively insane stunts, $50,000 on the line. Fear Factor turned watching people eat bugs and face their worst nightmares into appointment television, and Joe Rogan's deadpan 'Evidently, fear is not a factor for you' became the phrase you repeated at anyone who hesitated at anything.
Public Enemy's Flavor Flav choosing a girlfriend from twenty women he had renamed things like New York, Hoopz and Pumkin, and handing gold clock necklaces to the ones who stayed. Its 2006 second-season finale drew 7.5 million viewers, the biggest audience VH1 had ever had.
Gordon Ramsay screaming at a line of sweating cooks over an undercooked plate while a hundred diners wait, the red team against the blue team, and a chef's jacket hung on a hook under a photo that bursts into flames. Fox's 2005 import of Ramsay's British show made him America's most famous angry chef, even if critics and former contestants say the anger is played up for the cameras.
The third lane of the late-90s teen-pop trinity—Britney, Christina, and Jessica Simpson, marketed above all on that big Texas church-choir voice. Her debut album was a platinum hit, but her real dominance came via a reality TV show that turned her marriage into ratings gold and a Chicken of the Sea moment into the decade's defining soundbite.
Fox's 2003 prank on The Bachelor: twenty women competed in a French château for a bachelor they were told was a millionaire, who was actually construction worker Evan Marriott. If the last woman standing still wanted him after the reveal, the two split $1 million. More than 30 million people watched the finale, and the sequel proved the trick only worked once.
MTV's answer to The O.C. was real: Laguna Beach High School students, sun-bleached and cinematic, playing out a triangle nobody could stop watching. Everyone picked a side—Team LC or Team Kristin—and the drama was nothing like real life.
Bear Grylls gets dropped somewhere terrible, finds the one thing no human should eat, and eats it on camera. Discovery's late-2000s survival hit — equal parts genuine expertise and irresistible showmanship.
The MTV show that walked you through celebrities' mansions, one "welcome to my crib" at a time. Premiering on September 12, 2000, it turned the house tour into appointment television: the car collections, the home theaters, the walk-in closets, and the wall-to-wall excess. It also became infamous for stars who padded their episodes with rented mansions and borrowed cars, which only made it more fun to watch.
Three singles watch a stranger paw through their bedrooms from a van. A guy dates three moms and picks a girlfriend sight unseen. Five daters wait on a bus to be dismissed with one word, at a dollar a minute. MTV's mid-2000s dating block, Room Raiders (2003), Date My Mom (2004), and Next (2005), was half-hour reality television at its most shameless.
Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman, two special-effects veterans and a crash-test dummy named Buster, testing urban legends with real experiments and — whenever remotely possible — explosions. MythBusters was every 2000s science class's reward day, and it convinced a generation that engineering was cooler than anything in the textbook.
MTV's cameras moved in with pop's most photogenic married couple and struck gold in the very first episode, when Jessica Simpson stared at a can of tuna and asked, "Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish?" Newlyweds turned domestic squabbles about laundry and Chicken of the Sea into appointment television — and made Nick and Jessica bigger than either of their music careers ever had.
The boy band America watched get built. O-Town was assembled on ABC's Making the Band in 2000, under Lou Pearlman, and for two years it delivered exactly what the show promised — "Liquid Dreams," "All or Nothing," a platinum album — before the label let them go in 2003.
The original "famous for being famous" heiress. "That's hot," a tiny dog in her handbag, a pink Sidekick, and a permanent spot on the tabloid covers — Paris Hilton was the face of 2000s celebrity culture.
Xzibit takes your hopeless beater to the shop and it comes back with a fish tank, seven screens, and flames. MTV's most gloriously absurd makeover show — and the birthplace of "yo dawg, I heard you like…"
"Make it work." Heidi Klum's double air kiss and "Auf Wiedersehen," Tim Gunn pacing the Parsons workroom, Michael Kors and Nina Garcia on the judging panel, and a dozen designers sewing cocktail dresses out of grocery-store finds against the clock. Bravo's 2004 sleeper hit turned fashion design into a sport and won a Peabody for it.
Ashton Kutcher's hidden-camera prank show, and one of MTV's signature 2000s hits. Premiering on March 17, 2003, it ambushed celebrities with elaborate staged disasters — fake arrests, fake tax seizures, fake catastrophes — and filmed them melting down before the big reveal. The Justin Timberlake episode, in which he was led to believe the government was seizing his home over unpaid taxes, became one of the most famous pranks in reality-TV history.
The competition show that threw The Real World and Road Rules casts into the same arena and let them fight it out for cash. Premiering on MTV on April 20, 1998, it evolved through several names — from Road Rules: All Stars to Real World/Road Rules Challenge to, eventually, just The Challenge — and became a physical, strategic, elimination-driven staple of MTV's 2000s lineup. Improbably, the spin-off outlived both of the shows that created it.
The Real World's road-trip sibling, and one of MTV's defining 90s reality shows. Premiering on July 19, 1995, it stripped five or six strangers aged 18 to 24 of their money and packed them into an RV, sending them from place to place to complete missions and chase clues. The Winnebago, the cramped quarters, and the scavenger-hunt format made it its own thing — and it spun off the long-running competition series that would eventually outlast both of its parents.
Poison frontman Bret Michaels, a bandanna, a mansion and 25 women in the Flavor of Love mold, competing in challenges for a date and a backstage pass to his heart. VH1's Rock of Love with Bret Michaels ran three seasons from 2007, the last one on tour buses, and left behind a trashed mansion, a lawsuit and a whole wing of celebreality spin-offs.
Jo Frost stepping out of a black London cab in a tailored suit, ready to fix your family. Supernanny made the "naughty step" a household phrase, turned toddler meltdowns into primetime television, and gave every 2000s kid the ambient fear that one bad tantrum could summon her.
The CBS reality-competition show that premiered in 2000 and kicked off the modern reality-TV boom. Contestants are stranded in remote locations, split into rival tribes, and compete in challenges while voting each other out at Tribal Council. Host Jeff Probst's iconic catchphrase "The tribe has spoken" and the show's tagline "outwit, outplay, outlast" became part of the cultural lexicon.
HBO wired a real taxi with hidden cameras, put a real cab driver behind the wheel, and let strangers talk at three in the morning. Passengers found out they'd been filmed only when the ride ended. It won an Emmy in its first year, ran on and off for fifteen years, and remains one of the strangest things a premium network ever put on the air.
The boardroom reality-competition that made "You're fired!" a national catchphrase. Premiering on NBC on January 8, 2004, and produced by Survivor mastermind Mark Burnett, it pitted contestants against one another in business tasks — running lemonade stands, marketing products, managing teams — with the loser of each week sent home from a tense boardroom showdown. The winner walked away with a one-year, $250,000 contract to promote one of Trump's properties, and the boardroom showdown became a fixture of mid-2000s television.
Lauren Conrad left Laguna Beach for Los Angeles, a Teen Vogue internship, and four years of impeccably lit drama about whether any of it was real. The Hills perfected the scripted-or-not reality soap — then ended the whole argument with television's greatest mic drop, pulling the camera back to reveal a studio backlot.
The reality show that turned a heavy-metal legend into a beloved, bumbling TV dad. Premiering on MTV on March 5, 2002, it followed Ozzy Osbourne and his family — wife Sharon, son Jack, and daughter Kelly — through the chaos of daily life in their Beverly Hills mansion. Ozzy shuffling around cursing at the remote control became one of the decade's defining TV images, and the show's runaway success helped invent the celebrity-family reality genre.
The MTV series widely credited with launching the modern reality-TV genre. Premiering on May 21, 1992, it dropped seven young strangers into one shared residence and filmed them around the clock, opening each season with the now-legendary narration about what happens "when people stop being polite and start getting real." Part documentary, part soap opera, it turned ordinary twenty-somethings into a cultural phenomenon and gave television the template — the roommates, the confessional, the manufactured drama — that nearly every reality show since has borrowed.
Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie give up their cell phones and credit cards to live with a farm family in Altus, Arkansas, and fail at every job they are given. The premiere on December 2, 2003 drew 13 million viewers to Fox, and the show ran five seasons across two networks, surviving even the stars' real-life falling-out.
Survivor for cartoons: 22 teenagers, one crummy summer camp, a sadistic host named Chris McLean, and a hundred grand on the line. The animated reality-show parody that late-2000s kids treated as completely, unironically real drama.
Two sets of neighbors, two days, a $1,000 budget, and one question: what did they do to my living room? TLC's room-swap hit made home renovation a national spectator sport — and taught America to fear the phrase "I had an idea."
From "human cockfighting" banned in 36 states to a reality show on Spike TV that saved the company with one brawl. Griffin versus Bonnar, April 9, 2005: the night cage fighting became something you watched with your roommates.
Feel the rain on your skin. The pep-talk anthem that opened every episode of The Hills, played from every radio in 2006, and still makes millennials narrate their own lives like a season premiere.
Two families — usually polar opposites — traded moms for two weeks, with a rules-change ceremony in the middle and an excruciating reunion table at the end. The appeal was simple and irresistible: watch how other people live, then decide whether your own house was really so bad.
Four giant red balls over a muddy pond, the Sucker Punch, the Sweeper, and two announcers mocking every contestant who got flattened. ABC's summer obstacle course, billed as the world's largest, premiered in June 2008 and became the thing the whole family watched in a heap on the couch, the champion walking away with $50,000 from the floodlit Wipeout Zone.