I met my first reality TV star a few weeks ago when the lovely Angela of ABC’s “The Bachelor II” flew in to join our tailgate at The Hunt. The reticent bombshell from Kansas City wasn’t permitted to talk about the outcome of who ultimately “wins” a faux life of happiness, so we discussed the wonders of Makers Mark instead.

Reality TV is a concept that has fascinated and frustrated me over the years. “Fascinated” because despite the Velveeta content, painfully contrived situations and grossly disingenuous characters, most programs somehow enjoy more success than most other new network shows. “Frustrated” because I started making my own reality-based docucomedy during the summer of 1998, long before the term “reality TV” found its way into the American mainstream outside of the “The Real World.” Alas, the train to on-screen stardom appears to have skipped my stop.

By the summer of 2000 my 12 weekend video analysis of life inside three different Jersey shore beach houses was complete in the form of Ketch Mango…12 Unsophisticated Weekends at the Jersey Shore. But by this time, Survivor, Big Brother and Temptation Island had already raised (or lowered) the bar on the whole reality idea thing. Still, despite these potholes on the road to Tinseltown, it is the unbiased view of the author that Ketch Mango is as original and funny as any movie to hit the big screen in years.

This 90-minute masterpiece is actually a collection of seven short stories that primarily occur from 11:00 PM to 5 AM in the deceptively blasphemous beach community of Long Beach Island. Ketch Mango—filmed primarily with the use of a weather-beaten VHS camcorder and no staff whatsoever—offers the following twisted tales:

Two unwanted pregnancies resulting in marriage

One arrest and bailout for public urination

Two engagements resulting from random hook-ups

Two different plumbers needing to fix the same abused toilet

And that’s just the first half of the movie…

Before you can say that you have seen this all on MTV’s Spring Break, remember that the people featured on those mindless shows auditioned to be spotlighted (see: opportunists) while the folks starring in Ketch Mango (i.e.: Reggie…The Last American Guido) simply are being their Old English drinking selves. It makes a difference.

The process for young filmmakers in getting a low-budget independent movie noticed is as difficult as finding a one-bedroom apartment in Hoboken for less than $1200. The seemingly logical route is to submit the work to a local film festival, but that experience has led me to believe that these festivals are as credible as Winona Ryder. Despite the self-proclamations that such festivals are altruistically formed to assist independent filmmakers, these events are nothing more than a moneymaking scam to support those already established in the Hollywood establishment.

For example, my first submission of Ketch Mango was to the inaugural Tribeca Film Festival. Cost for submission: $55.00, or the price of a VCR these days. Result: A politely written form letter of rejection without any explanations provided.

If I wanted to throw away $55.00, I’d bet on the Rangers.

The “independent” movies featured at the Tribeca Film Festival include the $200 million juggernaut “Star Wars: Attack of the Clones,” Hugh Grant’s “About a Boy,” Sandra Bullock’s “The Secrets of Ya-Ya Sisterhood” and Al Pacino’s “Insomnia.”

Yeah, THAT’S a fair fight.

My second submission went to The Back East Film Festival, an event held right here in my adopted hometown of Hoboken. Submission fee: $35.00. Can’t miss, right? A movie about New Jersey screened in a town where a substantial amount of its residents have actually lived what my movie is about? I was so arrogant that I actually began writing my Sally Field you-really-like me award speech.

Result: A rejection letter received three days after submission. O.J. time line/Oliver Stone conspiracy theory: There is no way in hell my submission was received, viewed and rejected via snail mail in 72 hours, unless the movies shown in the festival (see: friends of the organizer) were already pre-determined. Guess I didn’t get the eVite…

Third and final approach: Send the movie to the revolutionary thinkers bold enough to take a chance on highly lucrative Blair Witch Project at Artisan Entertainment.

“They will understand the potential of my movie,” I thought.

The head of Artisan’s acquisition unit at least had the sack to call to tell me the good news and the bad news.

Good news: They laughed their asses off…thought it was great and very well put together considering the budget ($700.00, or $200 more than I paid for my car). Before he’s even finished praising me, I start writing a nasty resignation letter to my boss at my proletariat day job.

Bad news: The movie doesn’t have any star power and therefore is “unmarketable.”

“But what about Blair Witch?” I asked. “That didn’t have any celebrities in it.”

The response: “The Witch, even though you can’t see her, WAS the star attraction.”

Ah. Well, at least my shrink says I’m making progress after having a quarter-life nervous breakdown following THAT conversation.

Still, Ketch Mango continues to take baby steps in its tireless effort to make me a star, so I may someday thumb my nose at Hoboken the way Sinatra once did. Two private screenings had already been held last year at Burchard Auditorium at Stevens Tech and The Shannon Lounge Screening room with modest audiences of 147 and 123 people, respectively. The movie can also be rented at Take 3 Video on Washington Street.

With the cold weather coming about 2 months early (I didn’t know I had nipples until I went out without a coat Halloween night), a movie featuring sand, sun and sex (actual footage not available) is just the cure for a Hoboken winter of discontent.

So mark your palm pilots: A special screening of the NC-17 Director’s Cut of Ketch Mango will be shown at the upstairs screening room at Rogos on 8th and Willow on Saturday, November 23 at 9 PM. Immediately after the movie will be a post-screening extravaganza featuring an all-you-can-drink open bar for $30.00. The evening will be just like being back at the Shore…just without the salt air, tan bodies and consequence-free environment.

Reality TV may be soooooo 1999, but a reality movie may still be considered fresh enough to eat. If you’re hungry for something different on the menu, stop by and catch Ketch Mango: A movie for the adult-lescent in all of us.

This concludes the shameless self-promoting infomercial portion of this column…

Joe Concha writes a weekly NFL Preview for NBCSports.com and is a feature writer for Hobokeni.com. To purchase advance tickets to the Ketch Mango Director’s Cut Extravaganza, or for more information on this event, please write ketchmango@yahoo.com.