The Briefcase focuses on two “middle-class” families—a questionable but highly American take on the phrase, since both are debt saddled, with one primary breadwinner, and essentially living on the edge of financial ruin. Both are told they’ll be participating in a documentary about money. Instead, a producer from the show unexpectedly comes to their house with a suitcase full of cold, hard cash: $101,000 to be exact. That could be a life-changing – and in the case of families so near the financial cliff, nearly life-saving – sum of money. But this being reality TV, instead of just giving them the cash, there’s a major catch.
Both families are informed that somewhere out there, there’s another family “who’s also in need,” and are given a choice: “You can keep all of the money, you can keep some of the money, or you can give it all away.” Neither family knows that the other family also has a suitcase full of cash and is debating how much, if any, they’ll share. And since both families were originally told they were merely going to be the subjects of a documentary, neither of them really signed up for this exercise in televised torture.
What follows, predictably, is a gut-wrenching look at the two families being guilted this way and that over whether to choose charity or financial survival. In the first episode, the Bergins of North Carolina, a family of five—mom, Kim; dad, Drew; and three teenage daughters—are trying to make do on Kim’s salary of $15.50 an hour, since Drew’s ice cream truck business is failing. And in New Hampshire, the Bronsons—featuring dad Dave, an Iraq war vet who lost his leg in combat—are scraping by on the earnings of mom Cara, who works the night shift as a nurse and is pregnant with their second child.
The families are told they have to take the first $1,000 and spend it on themselves, which is basically a way of giving people who’ve been in dire straits for eons a fleeting taste of the kind of the financially carefree existence they’ll soon have to feel bad about wanting. From there on, the show does all it can to ensure the decision over the money is as guilt-ridden and uncomfortable as possible. Each clan is, bit by bit, given information about each others’ lives—including financial details, outstanding debts and shortfall salaries—and even allowed to tour each others’ houses. If you have any doubt about the cynicism that birthed CBS’s latest show, watch as mom Kim spots Dave’s prosthetic leg. It induces just the level of empathy—and guilt; always with the guilt—you might expect, and ensures exactly the sort of anguish CBS was hoping to capture on camera.
Now we don't really know what the real deal is. They may have been promised the money no matter what. This is "reality TV" after all. But the premise alone is disgusting. Exploiting the economic fears of average Americans suffering in hard times to sell the idea that the only decent thing for them to do is to "sacrifice" even more for other people while the wealthy get richer and richer, is a sick joke. (It's this come to life.)
So perfect that bunch of rich TV executives tossed this idea around and thought it was a great way to explore empathy and morality...