When A Reality TV Villain Becomes An Actual Villain

What makes someone a villain? It’s a question that endlessly fascinates pop culture, from Netflix’s never-ending scammer series to Disney’s villain origin stories.

The line that separates heroes and villains is also one of the most compelling aspects of The Real Housewives — the reality TV franchise I have spent hundreds of hours watching, writing about, rewatching and passionately debating. Since the first installment aired 2006, these shows have evolved from a fabulous-lives docu-series into a Survivor-style contest, where rich women get liquored-up and battle for relevance, approval and fame. Who is right, and who is in the wrong? Who will be cast as the villain in the editing suite, and who will win redemption? Who will survive to fight another day? These dynamics shift from one season to the next.

In the first season of the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, which debuted in 2020, self-described “queen bee and MVP" Jen Shah easily fulfilled the trope of the reality TV villain. Long before she was arrested in March 2021 and charged in connection to a telemarketing scam that targeted older people — a crime she pleaded guilty to this week and could face up to 14 years in prison for — Shah was RHOSLC’s most controversial cast member. (And that’s saying a lot, because her then-co-star Mary Cosby is married to her former step-grandfather and has been accused of running a religious cult). She threw things across rooms; she splashed water all over the production crew; she cussed out anyone who stood in her way. Even as she emotionally terrorized some of her castmates, she insisted she was the wronged one with almost Trumpian fervor. And she did it all from her “Shah Chalet” (which turned out to be rented) alongside her “Shah Squad” (her paid entourage) in some of the most extravagant outfits the franchise has ever seen, heightening what Housewives scholar Brian Moylan has called an “arms race” of glam.

So all eyes were already on her when, while filming season two, the NYPD and FBI showed up to arrest her. Her co-stars learned about the charges of conspiracy to commit wire fraud and money laundering, which carried a potential prison sentence of 30 years, as the cameras rolled. In the back of a black sprinter van, hurtling towards a group vacation in Vail, Colo., we watched them trying to process the news. The scenes that followed were uncharted territory in the reality genre — and made for some of the most gripping, high-stakes scenes in the franchise’s history.

In the season that followed, Shah passionately professed her innocence to her co-stars, her family, and her legal team. “The only thing I’m guilty of is being Shah-mazing!” went her season-two tagline; she sold “Free Jen Shah” merch. But on July 11, reality caught up with the reality star. A week before her trial was scheduled to begin in New York, Shah changed her plea to guilty, bringing any hint of a redemption narrative to a close. She admitted to selling services which had no value to elderly people across America for years, telling the judge that she knew her actions were illegal. She will be sentenced in November and faces 11 to 14 years according to the details of her plea deal. Variety reports that Bravo has been filming the lead-up to the trial and will continue to film with Shah, much to the delight of some fans.

Shah’s story is not the first time that Housewives has felt more like a true-crime series than an escapist reality show. Teresa Giudice, a founding cast member of the New Jersey, spent 11 months in prison in 2015 for mail, wire and bankruptcy fraud. Her husband Joe Guidice, who served 41 months, was eventually deported to Italy by ICE. On Beverly Hills, Tom Girardi — estranged husband of Real Housewife Erika Girardi — has been accused of treating his law firm like a “ponzi scheme” to fund the pair’s lavish lifestyle, prompting scrutiny from Erika’s castmates (and the media) about how much she knew. (She denies any wrongdoing.)

Perhaps this is not surprising: If you’re going to build a reality TV empire around America’s elite, you’re going to learn that the country’s wealthy don’t always think the rules apply to them. In the past, these struggles have simply been a storyline to overcome: Giudice signed a multi-million dollar book deal, filmed a spin-off show and is now reportedly one of Bravo’s highest-paid stars. Luann De Lesseps, an original cast member of New York City, also rebounded from a drunken arrest and felony charges with a successful cabaret career. (Her tagline the following season? “I plead guilty — to being fabulous!”)

The best housewives — in terms of entertainment value — don’t have to be the best people; as long as they bring the storylines and the glamour, they can earn the support of fans who’d never tolerate such behavior in their own lives. As several of Shah’s co-stars became engulfed in racism scandals and bitter feuds, she walked away from the show’s second season with a relatively positive edit despite the headlines that circled her — proof that the value system of reality TV doesn’t always align with the real world’s.

But now it’s clear that Shah’s misdeeds are on a totally different level than what we’ve seen before. Andy Cohen, who had a conflicted reaction to Shah’s guilty plea, acknowledged the difference between the harm caused by Shah’s scheme and the Giudice family’s tax fraud: “I think you wind up getting more upset when you know that there are victims.” Coupled with Shah’s apparent desire to deliver maximum spectacle on screen, it’s hard to ignore the real-life toll of making such extravagant TV, or shake the feeling that I’m feeding into a culture that rewards the pursuit of wealth and fame at any cost. Shah wasn’t the first reality star to be sent to prison, and she probably won’t be the last.

Soon, the cameras will disappear and the memes will die down. Shah’s family — including her teenage sons and her mother, who liquidated her retirement fund to help her fight the case — will be left to pick up the pieces. Shah bears ultimate responsibility for her crimes, of course. But as a viewer, I don’t feel completely innocent.