Cast care · hired by the show
Tuni hires iPads, the duty-of-care system and white-glove support to reality productions. It arrives in flight cases, configured, and it leaves when you wrap. The cast get their evenings back. So does your team.
iPads for every contestant, enrolled, locked down and labelled, in flight cases. Streaming works. The outside world doesn’t. No spoilers, no news, no way to phone home — unless you say so.
One quiet screen for the crew: tomorrow’s schedule pushed to every device, breakfast orders totalled for the kitchen, the daily welfare check-in where it belongs — with welfare, and no one else.
A person who answers. Setup on site, a show-day checklist that has survived real show days, and the same person on the end of the line for the run. Small enough to care; proven enough to trust.
Contents
Every production takes the core. The rest is switched on per show — each module is a line item, not a rebuild.
Netflix, Prime and the rest, inside a locked-down browser. The catalogue without the current affairs.
Orders placed from the sofa the night before; totals with the kitchen by morning, printed or exported.
Tomorrow’s call on every device the moment it’s set. No printouts under doors.
A daily check-in the welfare team actually reads. Free text goes to welfare, not the wider crew.
One message to every screen, or one screen. Replies, if you allow them.
Looks and fittings per contestant, per day, on the device that’s already in the room.
Family messages through a private portal — screened in Europe, moderated by humans, delivered gently.
A private notebook for the cast. Who can open it is enforced by the server, not left to paperwork.
SAG Exhibit G, prefilled by production, reviewed and signed on glass, exported as PDF.
A full music catalogue without adverts — or the news read out between songs.
Welfare and schedule boards for the gallery wall — full, masked or aggregate, enforced at the source.
Your cast have what they need in the room with them: dinner, tomorrow’s plan, a way to ask for help. Fewer knocks on doors, and far fewer surprises.
Your crew run the evening from one screen instead of six group chats. The outside world stays outside until you decide to let a little of it in.
Everyone sees what their job needs, and nothing more.
Built in production.
Not in a pitch deck.
A full season of primetime UK television, on air, 2026 — every order, every check-in, every letter
Quietly serious
Every production runs on its own isolated infrastructure — its own database, its own storage, its own keys. Nothing is shared between shows, so nothing can leak between them. When you wrap, the data is archived to your instruction and then destroyed, on a date you set.1
Sensitive things are treated as sensitive. Welfare free-text goes to the welfare team, not the wider crew. The family-message screen runs on European infrastructure; message content does not cross the Atlantic.2 And access to the cast notebook is enforced by the server, role by role — not left to a policy on a hard day.3
The devices hold the line too: allow-listed services, screenshot shielding, a passcode on the private surfaces, and remote control of every toggle from the dashboard — in the room, mid-show, without a rebuild.
1. Wrap-dated retention with a grace period and an undo — erasure is a console action, not a project.
2. AI pre-screen on EEA infrastructure; a human moderator has the final word on every message.
3. A GDPR pack — DPA, DPIA, security policy — is prepared per production and kept current.
Enquiries
A guide price in one email. A working demonstration in one call. Devices on site in time for your cast — and collected when they leave.
[email protected]Crew: your dashboard address is on the call sheet.