Review: Judds' new show on Oprah's network fits mold: life as pity party

There is no joy in Juddville, which is not surprising because country music icons Naomi and Wynonna Judd are rolling out a reality show on OWN, where fun is apparently just one more form of denial.

When Oprah Winfrey announced that she was starting her own network, she pledged that it would be a mean-free zone, a shelter from the snark, self-immolation and schadenfreude she thinks is ravaging the television landscape. And so far, she has delivered.

That does not mean OWN is a happy place. Oh no, my friends, oh no. Reality show after reality show reveals nothing but pain and misery: the sexless marriages, the emotionally abandoned children, the hoarding families, the endless army of Americans (mostly women) who lack self-esteem, self-control and self-respect. Um, no thanks. I think I'll just check in with CNN and then catch up with Castle.

On Tuesday, Addicted to Food premiered, bringing those crippled by eating disorders into the glory tent for healing. Following a group of women (and one solitary man, bless his heart) who enter a 42-day Texas treatment program, Addicted to Food offers a welcome antidote to the boot-camp mentality of The Biggest Loser.

The woman who runs the program, Tennie McCarty, is a fascinating and powerful figure, with a backwoods accent so heady it's practically Old English, and her insistence on lumping all eating disorders together keeps things fresh. Unfortunately, as with every reality show, the group feels more like a cast than a group, and it includes, because apparently it has to, a bony bulimic control freak. Here also are the moody landscape shots, the inevitable platitudes — it's not what you're eating, it's what's eating you — and a violin-heavy soundtrack to ensure that you understand just how tense all this self-examination can be.

Those violins figure heavily with The Judds as well, ditto self-esteem and souls with holes. To be fair, the Judds, with their precarious balance of talent and family drama, were a reality show long before the genre existed. And for a few blessed moments, it appears that this show might wind up being a pretty interesting behind-the-scenes look at the reunion tour of mother (Naomi) and child (Wynonna), both natives of Eastern Kentucky.

There are some pretty cool moments in the pilot, which airs Sunday, but then the violins gear up, with the tears and the glares, the life-coaching and admissions of fear, pain and inadequacy. About the 20-minute mark, Naomi reveals that her earliest memory (at age 31/2) is of being sexually molested, something she has never told anyone. But now, she's sharing this wrenching memory with photographs, on a television show. My heart goes out to her, but it is difficult not to feel manipulated.

In and of themselves, the shows of OWN are much like any group of reality shows — some are good; some aren't. But taken together, they begin to feel like a big ol' pity party, with everyone too busy weeping into the low-fat clam dip to remember it's OK to can the violins and put on a little dance music once in a while.

This story was originally published April 8, 2011 at 12:00 AM with the headline "Review: Judds' new show on Oprah's network fits mold: life as pity party."