The number of roles Tyra Banks juggled during her reign on “America’s Next Top Model” was staggering. She wasn’t just a host; she was a co-creator, executive producer, and judge, essentially the all-powerful figure guiding a cohort of aspiring models.
However, a new three-part Netflix docuseries, “Reality Check: Inside America’s Next Top Model,” flips the script entirely. Banks finds herself in an unfamiliar position: an interview subject, with no creative control, no pre-approved questions, and no compensation. She saw the final product at the same time as the general public.
This unfiltered approach is a rare feat in the world of celebrity documentaries, where stars often trade access for editorial power. The series compels Banks to address the show’s complex history, including both its triumphs and its controversies. Appearing composed in a trench coat and full glam, Banks navigates a delicate balance of expressing regret and offering justification as former contestants recount experiences of humiliation and emotional distress.
Image: Tyra Banks, striking a pose in a trench coat amidst studio lights, featured in “Reality Check: Inside America’s Next Top Model.” The documentary offers a critical look at the series she helmed.
Banks, now 52, chose to participate after witnessing renewed pandemic-era interest in the show lead to significant online criticism. While her appearance has been met with mixed, often negative, public reactions, it raises questions about whether other celebrities facing scrutiny will follow suit. Her personal representative declined further comment on the series.
Jay Manuel, “Top Model’s” long-time creative director and on-camera personality, remarked, “It’s a shame that she wasn’t willing to be a little more vulnerable in this documentary… Because what I saw was ‘Television Tyra.’”
Video: A short clip from the “Reality Check: Inside America’s Next Top Model” docuseries.
Gaining viewer sympathy proved challenging. The documentary highlights a myriad of uncomfortable clips and poignant testimonies from contestants, painting a picture of young women overwhelmed by the mid-2000s reality TV machine. Some of the most infamous moments included photo shoots where models were asked to portray offensive stereotypes—homeless individuals, bulimic characters, or victims of violent crime. There were even instances of “race-swapping” stunts, with contestants instructed to adopt different ethnicities, sometimes involving blackface or brownface.
Banks, reflecting on the “race-swapping” episodes, admits, “I was in my own little bubble, in my own little head… And this was my way of showing the world that brown and Black is beautiful.”
Former contestants also detail the intense psychological pressure of having their bodies relentlessly critiqued on national television. Dani Evans, for instance, recounts being pushed to get cosmetic dental work to close a gap in her front teeth. Despite her initial objections, she eventually conceded, with cameras filming her in the dental chair.
“Hindsight is 20/20 for all of us,” Banks acknowledges. “It just so happens that a lot of the things that are 20/20 for me happened in front of the world.”
This documentary, currently a top-performing series on Netflix, marks a significant moment for Banks, who had largely remained silent on the recent cultural re-evaluation of her show. When faced with its past missteps, she offers candid responses, reminding viewers that “Top Model” emerged from the pre-2020 reality TV landscape, a period when the modeling industry itself was far from progressive or gentle.
However, Banks shines when discussing the show’s origins. As a 20-something supermodel, she envisioned a series that would challenge the industry’s ingrained biases. “What if I created a show where you saw what it took to become a model?” she muses, recalling its 2003 premiere. “And for this show to represent not all white, not all skinny, but just showing all the differences and all the different types of beauties.”
She brought her inner circle onto the show, including makeup artist Jay Manuel and runway coach J. Alexander. Known as “the Jays,” they became a beloved duo, representing a groundbreaking step for mainstream LGBTQ+ representation on television at the time.
Yet, this vision of inclusivity often clashed with the show’s execution, frequently leaning into intolerance for the sake of dramatic reality TV. One Season 1 contestant’s insensitive remark, “Ebony’s a lesbian, and I find this offensive,” serves as a stark example.
Even as the show championed “plus-size” contestants, judges weren’t always gentle. Janice Dickinson, a former judge, infamously commented on one aspiring model, “If the body could just slim down 150 pounds, that would be good.” Banks countered, “Then she’d be 30 pounds,” highlighting the industry’s unrealistic standards.
Image: J. Alexander, left, and Jay Manuel, both pictured with Tyra Banks, were integral to the show’s on-screen presence.
The documentary also underscores Banks’s own occasional harsh critiques, despite her public advocacy against body shaming. “As much as I hate and preach about models not having to be stick-skinny, we have to face it that we are in the fashion industry,” she once told a contestant. “If you don’t fit the clothes, you don’t work.”
The show, which concluded in 2018 after 24 cycles, has become a focal point for millennial nostalgia and numerous controversies. It’s no surprise that documentary filmmakers eventually came knocking.
Manuel revealed he’d rejected documentary offers multiple times over the years, fearing a one-sided “takedown” of the show or Banks. “I don’t believe in takedown culture,” he stated. “And I certainly do not believe that Tyra should be vilified.”
However, a meeting with executive producer Jason Beekman convinced Manuel that this documentary aimed for an honest yet celebratory look at “Top Model.” Alexander and Nigel Barker, another long-time judge, also agreed to participate. With Netflix already backing the project, the producers approached Banks. After weeks of negotiation, she agreed to a roughly hour-long interview, which ultimately extended to four hours.
One of the documentary’s most poignant segments revisits Shandi Sullivan, who, at 21, was discovered as a Walgreens clerk and propelled into the modeling competition. During a Cycle 2 shoot in Italy, a night of drinking with locals led to Sullivan being filmed in bed while intoxicated.
The cameras then captured her tearful confession to her boyfriend. The episode, dramatically titled “The Girl Who Cheated,” resulted in Sullivan being publicly shamed and called derogatory names by strangers who recognized her.
Image: Shandi Sullivan, featured in “America’s Next Top Model,” faced a difficult experience during a trip to Italy as part of the series.
“It does bring up that whole question of when do you just put down the cameras and just be a human being to another human being,” Sullivan reflected recently.
When pressed about the incident in the documentary, Banks stated that production was “not my territory.” Executive producer Ken Mok defended the show’s editorial choices, arguing that contestants understood it was treated “as a documentary” and that the scene had been significantly edited down.
Both Banks and Mok concede that the relentless pursuit of ratings sometimes pushed the show into absurd territory. Contestants endured photo shoots involving raw meat, maple syrup, simulated graves, and even a giant Greek salad.
Banks, now residing in Australia, appears eager to share the blame, suggesting that viewers themselves drove the demand for increasingly outlandish scenarios, echoing the era of “Fear Factor” and “Survivor”: “You guys were demanding it. The viewers wanted more and more and more.”
Predictably, this response didn’t win over all viewers, and some critics continue to question the sincerity of her apologies. (As one headline from The Cut bluntly put it: “Tyra Banks Isn’t Sorry Enough.”) However, it’s widely believed that silence would have drawn even harsher criticism.
Daniel Sivan, who co-directed the docuseries with Mor Loushy, asserts that in today’s digital age, “keeping silent is not an option.” He concluded, “People will talk trash about you online regardless of if you say anything… I think it was a very smart move by Tyra to come and open up and tell her side of the story.”