The couples clearly love each other and have fun at their weddings, but the series plays into existing stereotypes about Southern culture, and the people featured on the show often come across as uneducated and crass.
Some sexual innuendo, including references to bondage. One groom-to-be shops for "scanty panties" for his bride. One man is shown mooning the camera, and a bride-to-be takes nude pics for her groom (no nudity is actually shown).
Parents need to know that although this reality series about couples who plan eccentric country weddings is meant to be in good fun, some of the behavior plays into existing negative stereotypes about Southern living, and some of the featured folks come off as crass and uneducated. There's also drinking, smoking, gun use (mostly for hunting and target practice), and some strong language ("bitchy, "ass").
Hosted by Tom Arnold, reality series MY BIG REDNECK WEDDING profiles couples who embrace their country roots and plan over-the-top, country-western style weddings. The couples and their families proudly celebrate their love -- and heritage -- by getting hitched on horseback, exchanging vows with the help of ordained ex-cons, or hosting mud-wrestling competitions during the reception. There's no crystal on the tables or champagne on the menu, but baked beans, roast squirrel, and chicken dumplings make for finger-licking wedding-day meals. Family members and guests contribute by buying unique lingerie for the bride or organizing shotgun salutes.
The series attempts to diffuse existing stereotypes about people from the South by using the term "redneck" to connote pride in one's Southern heritage. But the weddings here are presented as bizarre and eccentric and sometimes feature behavior that comes off as uneducated and crass. Instead of celebrating the fun, meaningful side of country-style weddings, the show actually perpetuates negative stereotypes about the South.
This, combined with extensive alcohol consumption and some salty language, makes it rough viewing for younger viewers, although it might appeal to teens and adults who enjoy this kind of guilty pleasure.
Families can talk about the difference between dispelling stereotypes and perpetuating them. Can stereotypes ever be used to empower people? How? Can you think of any examples? Families can also talk about what defines "country living." Does wearing a cowboy hat or riding a horse automatically make someone "a little bit country"? What other assumptions do we tend to make about people based on what they wear or do? Does the media reinforce those assumptions? If so, how?
If you've ever asked yourself "what to do for my 18th birthday," remember: you don't have to get married. From shotgun brides who may or may not be actually carrying shotguns to hillbilly wedding parties that just flat out refuse to wear sleeves, these country wedding folks have taken redneck wedding chic to the next level. They probably have no idea about the good and bad things about Andrew Jackson. Rest assured that the likes of the camo wedding cakes and fancy moonshine mason jars you'll see here are enough to make any Southern bride and groom squeal with delight. These folks invite you to deem them white trash all you like, as they care on in comfort, style, and on the wings of a killer beer buzz the likes of which most big city folk can scarcely dream about. They don't care about famous libras.
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The term "stupid rich" takes on new meaning with CMT's Bayou Millionaries, which finds a humble Louisiana family in the fortunate position of living on the fourth largest gas deposit in the United States, sitting on an almost literal gold mine.
New money in the truest sense, the Dowdens of Shreveport are nothing like any family that you've seen on Bravo's Real Housewives. In fact, they're closer to the iconic redneck family from The Beverly Hillbillies, camped out in their original home despite earning a monthly five-figure paycheck for simply allowing the gas to be pumped out from underneath them.
Watching the Dowdens acclimate to their newfound wealth is quite entertaining, particularly because their financial common sense seems severely lacking. In one episode, the family advertises their yard sale on television, and, afterwards, sheepishly admits the cost of the ad easily outweighed their profit. On another, we see them uneasily attempting to fit in at a country club, trying their hand at tennis and golf for the first time, to no success.
Aside from maybe Keystone Light, no other alcoholic beverage has as strong a redneck connotation as moonshine, the clear liquid that is said to make a drinker hallucinate, much like Absinthe was once rumored to.
Discovery Channel's Moonshiners sheds light on the illegal practice of producing the 180-proof alcohol through pursuing Tim Smith and his sidekick, "Tickle," as they evade the authorities in Virginia while concocting their strong drink, which they refer to as "'Shine."
Of course, it's much more entertaining to watch the misfit castaways duking it out on a uninhabited Mexican island and competing with the offbeat skills they've honed back home. Their talents include opening beer cans with their teeth, chasing chickens, and herding a mean cattle. Seriously, one of the contestants, a sunny blond named Jeannie, managed to lasso a full-ride rodeo scholarship.
God among Southern men, Steve Austin, hosts the challenges, where contestants compete for luxurious prizes like a private outhouse, an ice cold case of beer, and a fine meal of freshly prepared lizard. To each redneck palette, his own.
Still, the real danger of confronting gnashing teeth would be scary business if it weren't for the sharp-mouthed beauties hunting them. Admittedly, those snug tank-tops don't hurt their cause either. A&E, for the win!
Animal Planet's highly entertaining Hillbilly Handfishin'follows Skipper and his partner, Jackson, as they school out-of-towners on their techniques (which are also referred to as "noodling") and trudge through shoulder-deep murky waters in search of catfish. The stuffy city folk who join Skipper on expeditions into Oklahoma's waters only make the backwoods men brazenly plunging their entire arms into the slush seem even brutish.
The unlikely group of folks they've rounded up for Rocket City Rednecks include several men who hold Ph.D.'s, actual rocket scientists, a certified genius, and a NASA machinist. Each guy is as brilliant as he is unflinchingly Southern, making this one a science reality show like no other in its class.
Performing experiments in Alabama's backyard, the men mix science and redneck sensibilities to entertaining effect, using discarded beer cans to bomb-proof a truck, launching moonshine-fueled rockets and cracking jokes about how much they enjoy consuming each all the while.
The Robertons stumble upon success by crafting the best duck caller on the market out of Louisiana swamp wood. Their product sounds simple enough, but the thin reed of wood commands millions of dollars in profits, thrusting the backwoods clan far beyond mom-and-pop wealth.
Duck calling may be serious business, but the Robertsons manage to wrangle up the comedy by staying true to their backwoods roots. Chasing gators, capturing beehives, and shooting bullfrogs are all on the agenda, proving that the Robertsons have one foot in the office and the other firmly submerged in the river.
You have to hand it to the History Channel, they know a ratings monster when they see one. And, really, there's nothing about a gang of Cajuns chasing gators in Lousiana's swamps that doesn't sound like it would command attention, even if only by way of ridicule.
The insta-hit Swamp People takes the danger of the Deadliest Catch and inserts salt-of-the-earth people into a far less exotic locale. The risky task they undertake seems thankless, but the men hunt down their thrashing prey with gleeful flourish, uttering catch phrases like "choot 'em" that leave haughty viewers to ruthlessly poke fun at Southern speech patterns.
Remember that Mountain Dew and Red Bull guzzling, truffle-shufflin' toddler who struck fear into your heart captured your heart on Toddlers & Tiaras? After her surprising summit to Internet fame, TLC has, unsurprisingly, given six-year-old Alana Thompson her own reality show.
Here Comes Honey Boo Boo will begin airing on August 8th, at which point we will bet it will instantly pull rank as the most redneck show on television. Aside from Alana's prematurely trashy antics (seriously, what child says "A dolla make me holla?"), her family is a corrals every known Southern stereotype, and as witnessed in the trailer, is aware of just how redneck they appear.
Despite "having all [their] teeth," Alana's family is a comical incarnation of the backwoods clans seen in most horror movies, using extreme couping, mud-diving, four-wheeling, and armpit-farting as new ways to incite terror and laughter in equal measure.
Since 2008, CMT has been following couples to be as they take that momentous strut down the aisle; or, in the case of My Big Redneck Wedding, through the muddy country fields. Each episode follows a new couple, with Tom Arnold hosting the "down home" (CMT's euphemism for really freaking redneck) nuptials.
Instead of enjoying a first toast with expensive bubbly, couples enjoy tandem beer funneling. Gone are the white gowns; women opt to wear coordinating camouflage dresses (you know, to match their man). Flowers are substituted with shotguns, and boutonnieres swapped out for guns and cans of beer. One couple even leaves the ceremony on their quads, a powerful ending to a peculiar ordeal that will (obligatory wedding pun) have you rolling in the mud-caked wedding aisle.
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