‘Fairground Attractions’ on Netflix Explores The Lives Of Britain’s Carnival Workers — But Don’t Call Them “Carnies”

Carnivals are a classic delight; they roll into town with the promise of carefree summer nights, nostalgic charms and timeless memories. Making them happen, though, is a grueling business — one that we may think we understand, but we probably don’t.

Fairground Attractions, a British reality show that’s leaving Netflix at the end of June, takes a look at the people who make the merry magic happen — people Americans might call “carnies.” (The show opts for the more charitable British term, “showmen.”) Historically, society has applied a lot of negative connotations to the people in this itinerant trade — stereotyping them as dirty, duplicitous, and even dangerous people. This isn’t a Jersey Shore-type mockery of its subjects, though. It’s more in the vein of Deadliest Catch – a straightforward, un-sensationalized look at people in a difficult, demanding profession that the general public rarely sees from an insider’s perspective.

To make a terrible pun: it’s quite fair.

“My family, they’re all in the business – I was in school, but I was drawing all over my lessons, because my head wasn’t in it. I wanted to be at the fun fair,” notes Kimberly, a second-generation member of one of the ‘showmen’ families the series profiles. “I wanted to do this all my life. I never want to give it up, the adrenaline, I love it. I think about it in my sleep.”

These are largely family businesses — parents training children to follow in their footsteps and carry on the trade. It’s a loose definition of family, too — both blood relatives and simply kindred spirits with the showman lifestyle in their blood. These are blue-collar, salt-of-the-earth people, but the show’s creators treat them with respect. While Henry, one lifelong showman, barks entertaining patter to a delighted crowd, the narrator notes that “[he] prides himself on customer relations, but behind this is a head for serious business.”

With serious business comes serious business concerns — this isn’t the mid-century heyday of the classic fun fair, where it might be the only attraction in town. There’s plenty of competition for people’s time and money, including elaborate modern theme parks. “Time moves on, and we modernize,” Kimberly notes. Henry might be an old-time showman, but his grown son is operating high-tech, multi-million dollar rides that can attract a crowd from a distance with the glittering promise of “the ultimate thrill ride”.

Meanwhile, location is everything. While some showmen have begun to stick to fixed sites, developing their own small amusement parks, the majority still travel the country — following the crowds where they are, including to Britain’s many well-attended music festivals. “The rents are incredible, and you’re hiring a huge staff to work long hours,” Mary, the matriarch of one show family notes, “it may look like you’re making a lot of money, but you’re spending so much, you’re barely scraping by.”

Blessedly, in the more restrained tradition of British reality shows (relative to our own style of content in the United States), the show isn’t trying to turn each subject into an exaggerated character — trying to make tabloid stars from a pawn shop owner’s sons or a bickering home-flipping couple. That’s not to say there’s not drama, though. One family faces great worries as the launch of their fair seems threatened by the possible spread of civil unrest in nearby neighborhoods of London. There’s some tense times as it’s unclear if the business can open, and even the possibility that police could pull the charter that allows them to operate.

Back at the music festival, there’s more predictability in schedule, but the trade-off of plenty of inebriated customers. “You have to be careful on events like this,” Mary says wearily. “You want them to have fun, but you want them to leave fit and well.” This does offer a rare chance for the staff to let their hair down, though. “We normally have a lot of rules for the workers, because of the reputation showmen have, we don’t let them go out at night.” At a festival, though, where the traveling workers won’t be conspicuous, they’re afforded the chance to join the fun.

There’s always unexpected challenges — waking up in one’s own hangover only to find that over-partied festival-goers have squatted overnight inside a ride, or even corralling a guest who’s not used to playing by the rules. “Who’s Prince Harry?” one ride operator scoffs, as another explains how he was forced to confiscate the then-bachelor royal’s beer before he boarded the bumper cars. (The show was filmed in 2011, and it’s clear Meghan Markle has been a positive influence on her husband.)

Fairground Attractions is a classic entry in the reality show canon — a look into an unfamiliar world that quickly gets you invested in the stresses, concerns and challenges the subjects face in their daily lives. It’s not a caricature or a mockery, but it’s more watchable than a strict documentary.

It’s also a great way to kick off your summer — after a couple of episodes, you’ll be craving some cotton candy and a spin on the Tilt-A-Whirl.

Scott Hines is an architect, blogger and internet user who lives in Louisville, Kentucky with his wife, two young children, and a small, loud dog.

Stream Fairground Attractions on Netflix