A Review of Sarah Palin’s Alaska

Is Sarah Palin’s Alaska a political statement? Come on! It’s just a little reality show. A little reality show about the former vice-presidential candidate raising her family and shooting guns and celebrating “hardworking Alaskans” and encountering fierce mama bears and exploring the rugged wonders and boundless adventure of the largest state in this, the greatest country on earth! Who could possibly see that as a political statement?

It is not exactly going out on a limb to say that a TV show involving Palin will polarize people. But there’s another division that Sarah Palin’s Alaska (debuting Nov. 14 on TLC) will create: between those who believe the show proves that Palin will never run for President and those who believe it proves she is totally going to run for President.

(See “After Alaska: Sarah Palin’s Year of Living Large.”)

There is evidence for both sides. Palin has an intense following and great influence, demonstrated by the 61 candidates she endorsed in the Nov. 2 elections. But she has low general-approval ratings. She’s ambitious and sees Ronald Reagan as her role model. But she didn’t even finish one term as Alaska’s governor. She recently told Entertainment Tonight that she might consider running in 2012. But she said it on Entertainment Tonight.

If Palin’s only goal is to be a media force, she’s doing fine. She has made millions off her 2009 book, Going Rogue; has a contract to appear as a commentator on Fox News; and has the press hanging on her every Facebook update and tweet. Even daughter Bristol has dipped a toe in, as a contestant on Dancing with the Stars.

(See photos from Palin’s new show.)

But if Palin does have plans for 2012, one could well see this show, which often plays as if Reagan admaker Hal “Morning in America” Riney had gone into reality TV, as an attempt to broaden her appeal. If Palin’s red-meat Fox News commentary is the sort of media you do to position yourself for a primary, then Sarah Palin’s Alaska, full of folksy moments and free-range metaphors, is a general-election play.

Family Programming
A TLC website for the show — SPAlaska.com — promotes it as “an insider’s look at Alaska” that “is lots of things … but it is not a political show.” But there is a reason that Sarah Palin comes before Alaska in the title, and the show addresses her notoriety and career head-on. (Overlooking a scenic view, she jokes, “You can see Russia from here — almost.”) Like any other busy working mom, she wrangles the kids, is glued to her BlackBerry — and every now and then goes to her custom-built satellite studio to do a remote hit on The O’Reilly Factor.

And as in a family sitcom, there’s a zany conflict with a neighbor: author Joe McGinniss, who raised a controversy earlier this year when he rented the house next door to the Palins while researching a book on her. He’s not seen (or identified by name) in the first episode, but his presence is much discussed. “How would you feel,” Palin asks, “if some dude who was out to get ya moved in 15 feet away from your kids?” (Note the wording: not “you,” “your kids.”) When the family returns home from a fishing trip, Palin asks, “Is he taking pictures?” — a concern that may be more sympathetic if you forget that this intimate moment is being captured by a team of reality-TV cameras.

See pictures of Sarah Palin and the Tea Party.

See pictures of Sarah Palin’s life since the 2008 election.

Eventually, the Palins erect a 14-ft. privacy fence, which Palin, just as any other concerned parent would, analogizes to securing the U.S.-Mexico border. “I thought that was a good example, what we just did,” she says. “Others could look at it and say, ‘This is what we need to do to secure our nation’s border.'”

(See the top 10 Alaskans.)

Liberals can dispute whether Palin can call herself a feminist, but she certainly believes the personal is political. And there’s a ton of personal in Sarah Palin’s Alaska. She makes cupcakes with daughter Piper, who, we learn, calls her mom “Sarah” when she wants to get her attention. When teen daughter Willow has a male friend visit, Palin points to a baby-proofing gate at the foot of the stairs. “It’s not just for [toddler son] Trig,” she says. “It’s for ‘No boys go upstairs.’ ” (The boy hops the gate anyway.) Eldest daughter Bristol and grandson Tripp — whose out-of-wedlock conception became news during Palin’s 2008 VP race — are often on the scene too.

(See pictures of Sarah Palin’s fashion looks.)

Above all, there’s hubby Todd, Palin’s “helpmate,” working the camera in the family TV studio and bouncing around ideas on tax policy. He talks her through her fear of heights when they rock climb on Denali. She needles him over his macho pride in “bringing home the bacon” when he catches the first salmon.

In style, Sarah Palin’s Alaska is a hybrid of various popular shows that TLC’s parent company, Discovery Networks, puts on. There’s the domestic hurly-burly of Kate Plus Eight, the wildlife vistas of Planet Earth, the blue collar work of Dirty Jobs, the rugged, forbidding Alaska of Deadliest Catch. But all the natural majesty is seen through a Palinesque frame. While fishing, the Palins spy a mama bear — Palin’s chosen metaphor for fierce, female GOP pols — defending her territory. (Lest the moment be too perfect, Palin allows that the mama was a brown bear, not a grizzly, her preferred rhetorical species.) “I love watching these mama bears,” Palin says. “They’ve got a nature humankind could learn from.”

(See Mama Grizzlies in the best viral campaign ads of 2010.)

The Simple Life
Producer Mark Burnett (Survivor) makes full use of Alaska’s rich natural photo-op reserves: Palin shooting a rifle, felling a tree, trekking in snowshoes. And the episodes open with a country-rock anthem — “You need a place to be your/ Sanctuary/ Follow me there/ Come on, follow me there” — that you could, closing your eyes, imagine being played as someone takes the stage at a convention.

In other words, you’re seeing more than pretty mountains. You’re seeing Sarah Palin, through her state, embody a nostalgic America almost unrecognizable in the rest of the country today: where blue collar work can earn a good living, where people live close to the land (using four-wheel-drive vehicles because they need them) and where the good life is blessed without seeming snobby. (When the Palins go salmon fishing or rock climbing, a “bush plane” pulls up to the dock on the lake in their front yard; they road-trip across the state in a mammoth tour bus befitting Spi&numlal Tap.)

Does showing this image on reality TV humanize a controversial public figure while burnishing her tough-woman cred? Or does it weaken a politician who already faces doubts about her qualifications for high office? That depends in part on how much you believe the old yardsticks of authority — projecting gravitas, finishing terms in office — still matter. GOP guru Karl Rove has said the show does not send a message “that helps me see you in the Oval Office.” But Palin does not seem to especially crave Rove’s approbation or consider Establishment criticism a liability. And if you were positioning a candidate for office, you could do worse than spend an hour a week placing her amid a rich landscape that embodies frontier optimism and individualism. The Palin’s in Sarah Palin’s Alaska is a possessive. But you could be forgiven for suspecting it’s really a contraction — Sarah Palin Is Alaska — or for wondering if someone is hoping for a spin-off: Sarah Palin’s America.

See “Portraits of the Tea Party Movement.”

See pictures of Tea Party souvenirs.

See the top 10 post-election Sarah Palin quips.