• by David Goetzl  @dgoetzl, April 10, 2008

Several years ago when MTV's reality series "Laguna Beach" burst onto the scene, many felt it was too coincidental that pivotal scenes involving the teens--be they crying jags or relationship catharses--just happened to be captured by the cameras. Then it emerged that the producers apparently were nudging or encouraging the particular behaviors when the bright lights were zeroing in.

It was part of the ever-expanding "plausible reality" genre.

As "Laguna" grew in popularity, producers began to weave product placement into episodes. And there was "plausible reality" there in abundance, with the "stars" touting T-Mobile Sidekicks and the like.

No doubt coaching was involved there, too. Which begs the question: Just what level of orchestration actually goes on with participants in reality shows when product placement is involved? How much spontaneity is there when "Top Chef" competitors exult over Hellmann's during close-ups?

Perhaps standing next to a cameraman, is a producer saying, "Do you mind mentioning the mayo is naturally rich in omega 3?" Is an executive from an agency that put together the placement, who's on the set to make sure a client got what it paid for, lobbying a show-runner: "Can we do another take to talk about how it's ideal for artichoke dip?"

The "plausible reality" sure appeared to be in play during a recent episode of NBC's "The Biggest Loser" weight-loss competition. In a scene in the March 25 show, a group of competitors waxed poetic about Orville Redenbacher's 100-calorie mini bags (one of the top product placements of the week, according to measurement firm iTVX). Their enthusiasm was due to the seeming improbability that they could enjoy a bowl of popcorn with limited calories. And they expressed it as if they had been prepped by the legendary acting coach Stella Adler.

One contestant hands a bowl to another and then: "That's my bowl?" That's 100 calories? Holy cow!"

Another competitor is incredulous about the limited calories. "Come on?" is the retort.

In an interview, a contestant turns more serious and speaks about the potential benefits of the Redenbacher minis while watching a good movie. "You can have that in your life. There are alternatives out there. And I can know the exact calorie content and I can enjoy ... but I'm not suffering ..."

Was a teleprompter involved?

It's a fun question--but from a marketing standpoint, of little consequence. The Redenbacher integration is another example of NBC opening up an organic marketing opportunity on the "Biggest Loser"--and ConAgra taking advantage of it for Orville. No doubt lots of viewers watch the show for inspiration as they pursue their own weight-loss endeavors. And marketers that have been able to slot in products that look attractive to eat--Nabisco, for example--but offer minimal caloric intake would seem to pick up customers.

And whether the contestants interacting with--and delivering positive messages about--those products are nudged or coached, ordered or even bonused, their messages seem to pop.