Eleven Minutes
Dir: Michael Selditch & Robert Tate
Rating: 3.0
Regent Releasing
103 Minutes
What happens when a reality show competition ends? The winner is chosen, the cameras turn off and the producers count their money. Most of the losers pack it in and go home, returning to normal life. But what about the winners? How many of them go on to transcend their status as reality show contestants? How many of them become Kelly Clarkson?
Eleven Minutes depicts such an effort by Jay McCarroll, the first winner of Project Runway. Bravo’s fashion design competition show is a gem amongst the muck of reality television in that there’s some honest talent accompanying the amusing personalities. Unlike American Idol, it is about the act of creation and not just the ability to hit the right notes.
The film documents McCarroll’s three-month struggle to put together an 11-minute fashion show for Olympus Fashion Week. If successful, he would not only end up selling his work for mass-production, but also establish himself as a legitimate fashion designer — not just a television personality.
McCarroll is a choice subject for an exploration of post-television life in ways other than his amusing personality (a necessity for a celebrity fashion designer). The show was a hit, he won the competition and the eyes of the world were on him; months pass and yet nothing happens. We find out that he really only knows how to design clothing and has no experience in putting together an entire collection on his own. In many ways, he is back where he started.
Directors Michael Selditch & Robert Tate simply document the efforts of Jay McCarroll without really giving the viewer a sense that the fashion show might never happen, but what Eleven Minutes lacks in tension it makes up for with education. For those interested, it shows just how much effort goes into just 11 minutes of people walking down a runway in different pieces of clothing. Money and attention must go to PR campaigns, talent agencies for models, the people who actually construct the clothing, and even towards memorable, eye-catching invitations. These were all things McCarroll did not have to consider when being provided for by a television show.
What makes the film truly worthwhile, however, is the way it demystifies success via reality television. In the post-American Idol world, it would seem like success is determined by a tribunal of judges and the votes of an entire nation. Any amateur can rise to stardom provided they have a modicum of talent and make a decent audition tape. In reality — “real” reality — it still takes the same amount of ambition, talent, and good luck that is required of those that haven’t been on TV. The most people should hope to get from being on these types of competitions is publicity. But who wants to be affiliated with a reality show?
by Danny Djeljosevic
