Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve probably heard about or even watched the America’s Next Top Model documentary, ‘Reality Check’, released on Netflix last month. For me, my friends, and a large majority of the internet, it’s been a hot topic of conversation.
The documentary recounts the series from its conception to the present day, covering the good, the bad, and the ugly (spoiler: more ugly than anything else). It revisits some of the most controversial moments in reality TV history, from exploitative challenges to blurred ethical lines. At a time when audiences are far less forgiving, it is interesting to reexamine the legacy of Tyra Banks and ask how reality TV rehabilitates its own image. Does this revival represent accountability, nostalgia marketing, or is it a calculated return to relevance?
The first episode sets the scene, capturing the initial hysteria that enveloped the nation when the series first aired. As one of the first and most successful Black supermodels, Tyra Banks is positioned as the documentary’s central protagonist, leading what appears to be a revolution within the fashion industry. “I wanted to show that beauty wasn’t one thing,” she explains. “I had a feeling I was going to change the beauty world. It was my way to get back.”
The documentary features sit-down interviews with Banks herself, alongside Ken Mok (Head of Story), former judges Jay Manuel, J. Alexander, and Nigel Barker, as well as a range of contestants from previous cycles. To begin with, everyone is beaming with admiration and reverence for Tyra and what she represented. But soon the cracks begin to show. As the documentary unfolds, it becomes clear that this mission to redefine beauty was increasingly entangled with the demands of reality television. It reminds us of the toxicity surrounding body image, the racial stereotyping that took place, and even medically questionable makeovers carried out in the name of entertainment. Yes, medical procedures (refer to Cycle 6, Episode 8, “The Girl Who Had Surgery”). Perhaps one of the most disturbing moments discussed, however, concerns former contestant Shandi Sullivan, who was filmed whilst under the influence being sexually assaulted. Branded a sexually deviant adulterer on national television, Sullivan recalls the experience as one of the most traumatic moments of her life.
It reminds us of the toxicity surrounding body image, the racial stereotyping that took place, and even medically questionable makeovers carried out in the name of entertainment. Yes, medical procedures (refer to Cycle 6, Episode 8, “The Girl Who Had Surgery”). Perhaps one of the most disturbing moments discussed, however, concerns former contestant Shandi Sullivan, who was filmed whilst under the influence being sexually assaulted. Branded a sexually deviant adulterer on national television, Sullivan recalls the experience as one of the most traumatic moments of her life.
This marks a turning point in the documentary, as the more insidious side of the show begins to reveal itself. Many of the other former contestants describe an on-set environment that was chaotic and heavily manipulated by producers, and that allegedly ignored industry standards for both emotional and physical safety.
Perhaps the most shocking aspect, however, is the judges’ lack of accountability. Ken Mok attempts to defend the production, arguing that the contestants were explicitly told they would be filmed 24/7. Meanwhile, Miss Jay, Mr. Jay, and Nigel Barker largely shrug off the more troubling moments with a kind of that’s the industry attitude. “You should be able to stick up for yourself and get the job done,” Barker insists. There are brief flashes of hindsight, the occasional awkward smile, or a muttered “God, we really did that?!”, but overall, the sense of sincere remorse feels limited.
The second episode continues to trace the show’s meteoric rise to success. Following the first cycle, America’s Next Top Model exploded in popularity far beyond anyone’s expectations. By cycle two, the show was reportedly reaching over 100 million viewers worldwide. With this sudden growth came pressure for the series to evolve, and, inevitably, for the drama to escalate. As a result, photoshoots became increasingly risky, dangerous, and controversial, ranging from wearing meat clothing to reenacting domestic violence scenarios. As one participant recalls, “They would take the girls’ fears and turn them into a photoshoot.”
With the drama escalating on screen, the documentary raises a larger question about who is ultimately responsible for the show’s ethical failings. “You guys were demanding it. You viewers wanted more and more and more,” Tyra exclaims, framing the show’s most extreme moments as a response to public appetite. This highlights a broader moral dilemma that examines the human fascination with watching conflict and humiliation at the expense of others. From soap operas to reality television to online scandals, audiences are consistently drawn to narratives of downfall and controversy.
But is it reality TV that is facilitating this morbid curiosity? The show’s success depended on this dynamic: the more extreme the content became, the higher the ratings climbed. As one producer observes, “I never thought, can we air it? Good television is good television.” Mr. Jay insists, “Of course, there were gobsmack moments, but it wasn’t my place to say ‘don’t do that.’” With contracts, legal agreements, and production hierarchies in play, accountability becomes blurred. Yet a recurring theme emerges: Tyra’s unwavering commitment to her show, to the point of dissolving her own morals and principles.
The documentary’s final episode details the show’s decline. Jay’s decision to leave at the end of cycle 17 precipitated the collapse of his friendship with Tyra, who reportedly texted, “I am disappointed,” after learning of his departure. Eventually, all three panelists were let go. Everyone except Tyra. She recalls a conversation with the executive producer in which she was told, “There are no sacred cows,” a thinly veiled warning that even she could be replaced at any moment. Following their departures, the series relied increasingly on gimmicks as it desperately attempted to remain relevant. “It reeked of desperation,” one commentator notes. Eventually, even Tyra herself was replaced.
The documentary’s most revealing moment comes at the very end, when Banks announces that America’s Next Top Model will return for its 25th cycle after a five-year hiatus. And Tyra will once again be hosting. This raises a provocative question: was the documentary truly an act of reflection, or a carefully calculated rebrand? It also calls into question the function of documentaries today. With the rise of celebrities producing their own documentaries, from Molly-Mae Hague to Victoria Beckham, there has been a growing trend of public figures entering the documentary space as a tool for image management and self-promotion. What we’re witnessing in ‘Reality Check’ is a three-hour-long advertisement for the return of both the series and of Tyra herself. Tyra concludes the documentary with less of an apology and more of a deflection:
“Looking at that show through the lens of today, I thank you for your criticism. That is the only way you change and get better, by somebody calling you out on your shit. It’s important. I want you guys to be just as open as I am now about getting called out on my shit when somebody calls you out on yours. Because that day will come. And continue to evolve, because that’s what we’re all doing.”
This is ragebaiting at its finest. Tyra has somehow managed to turn her long resumé of brutal controversies onto us, the audience. So apparently we’re all now liable to committing the kind of atrocities she has (don’t box us in with you, please Tyra!). This kind of weaponised accountability perpetuates incredibly damaging and toxic behaviour, and means nothing in the way of an apology.
For a woman who once felt like a breath of fresh air in an intoxicating and exclusionary industry, Banks appears to have fallen prey to the very system she once positioned herself against, the one she claimed to be protecting young models from. As one contestant reflects, “Tyra wants to challenge the fashion industry’s ideas of beauty, but she is still upholding the same ideologies and attitudes that once oppressed her.” In trying to rewrite the legacy of America’s Next Top Model, the documentary ultimately proves just how carefully that legacy is still being managed.
Congratulations, Tyra, you’re still officially in the running for becoming America’s Next Top Rebrand.
