Here’s How Australian Survivor Can Avoid A Repeat Of S1’s Bullshit

It is with absolutely zero hyperbole that I state that the greatest TV series to ever grace screens in the history of mankind, Survivor, has single-handedly moulded the concept of reality television, nay entertainment, in the 21st century and is better than anything ever, ever, of all time, full stop, DO NOT @ ME.

Me weathering your bullshit, wrong opinions.

Currently in the 33rd season of the original, and best, US series (yes, I have watched all of them, no I do not get a lot of sex), the plucky little show that could has seen hundreds of Americans take to the shores of various tropical destinations, to Outwit, Outplay and Outlast each other, ostensibly laying the groundwork for the ceaseless tide of reality TV in which we currently float in, constantly battered by rancid debris (*cough* The Bachelor *cough*) and used diapers (*cough* My Kitchen Rules *cough*).
Unlike the vast majority of competitive shows that reared their often hideous heads during the reality boom of the noughties, Survivor stayed true to its core gameplay and format, keeping it entirely internal by refusing to transition to a public vote style nor mess with the fundamental structure of the ultimate winner’s pathway: work with your tribe-mates to further yourself in the game, then one by one vote them the fuck off the island.
This delicate balance, of gaining trust in fellow players only to inevitably stab them in the back, is what, in my humble opinion, has kept the show so reliably entertaining after these 16 years. Play too hard too early, and you paint a target on your back as a threat. Attempt to be everyone’s friend and not strategise enough? Enjoy the business lounge at Fiji’s airport, cause that’s where you’ll be heading, chump.
Oh and for all 33 seasons it’s been hosted by the ageless Supreme Daddy, my one-true-love and guiding light: Jeff Probst.

Pictured: Jeff Probst putting out the fire he started by winking slowly at it.

The US series has of course kept the format fresh with a series of slightly changed layouts, additional features of the game and a healthy amount of mid-game twists. Everything from Redemption Island (a chance to get back in the game after being voted out once) to super-powered idols that give their owners special benefits in the game and even a couple of seasons where the castaways had a pre-existing relationship with someone on the other tribe.
But what they’ve never, ever done, is undermine the core ideology of Survivor with blatant contestant deceit, useless episode lengthening fake-outs and twists that hold absolutely zero purpose except for making me want to hurl my burrito at the TV. Which brings me to Australian Survivor, the revived local version which aired its final episode last night.
If you’ve read this far, you’ll probably realise how much of a card-carrying, boned-up Survivor superfan I am, so earlier this year when Channel Ten (home of some truly garbage reality TV shows, let’s be real) announced they had picked up the rights to giving a local version of Survivor another red-hot-go (the less we talk about the heinous 2002 or 2006 editions, the better), believe that I had the following three reactions simultaneously:
The unfettered joy I experienced at the announcement of my all-time fav show getting an Aussie version was quickly deflated as many of my worst fears began to take form and the show’s details were slowly churned out.
First came the news that the castaways numbered 24 and were to spend 55 days on a Samoan island, an unprecedentedly long duration, only functioning to extend the length of the show, which, as it turned out they bloody needed to, as they then announced the show would air three times a week for 60-90 minute installations.

In many ways the fall of Australian Survivor was to be expected, given the current climate of locally produced reality TV garbage nightmares. Treating viewers like mindless imbeciles, character arcs, story tropes and the disgustingly ever-present concept of an individual’s “journey” are bashed so heavily handed over the audiences head amidst an unnecessary amount of episodes a week, it borders on torture.
 

Not trusted to make the kind of leaps in logic and narrative interpretation that your average 12 year old could muster, Australian reality show viewers are instead handfed overtly manufactured storylines that are boiled down to the most simplistic and banal versions possible and repeated ad nauseum either side of the ad breaks.

So when the show finally kicked off a few months back I watched with mixed emotions of trepidation, hope and an unwavering sense of looming disaster, much like I imagine it feels watching your child go to his first day of school, if that child was a real piece of shit who you just KNEW was gonna kick a teacher.
For the first few eps my fears were somewhat dissipated with newly minted local host Jonathan LaPaglia providing an excellent Jeff Probst imitation (meant in a genuinely complimentary way, if you can’t beat em…), the production quality was on point and the casting for the most part seemed well balanced.

Love my #Dads

A photo posted by Mitch Feltscheer (@mitchfelt) on

And then the shit started to hit the fan, which in this case was me. I am the fan and the shit that continued to spew forth towards me from the TV screen was the numerous, unforgivably poor production choices and format upheavals that worked to betray the very core ideals that have kept US Survivor such a monolithic success for 33 seasons.

Yes, as I mentioned, US Survivor has played around with the structure somewhat, but what they’ve never, and I stress, NEVER done is commit the cardinal sin that Australian Survivor so gleefully wiped its arse with and that is mess with the sanctity that is Tribal Council, the arguable core of the Survivor dynasty. 

If you don’t know what Tribal Council is, well firstly you’re uninvited from my Survivor themed wedding, and secondly, it’s the hallowed grounds adjacent to to the castaway’s camps where every three days a group of contestants go to air their grievances under the wise grilling of an angelic Ultimate Daddy and without fail, someone gets voted out.

So when early in the season of Australian Survivor, Jay-La-Pags gathered the increasingly stanky misfits from the losing tribe to council and revealed that, ~psych~, no one was in fact going home tonight, yours truly nearly had a conniption and upended his living room coffee table.

Cut to a week later and not only did JLP once again lie to his wards regarding Tribal, but the resulting double-twist that the votes already cast are not for elimination but for a tribal swap, pulled the final thread of hope I had for a truly great local version of the greatest show on TV and I spiralled into Dennis Reynold’s levels of rage.
Look, throw in your twists and your Super Idols and your god damn Hungry Jacks-related reward challenges, but once you mess with the sanctity of Tribal Council and ostensibly lie to the contestants, you undermine the core process of a successful Sole Survivor’s pathway to victory and begin punishing contestants for excelling at the game’s three tentpoles of Outwitting, Outplaying & Outlasting. 
A fact wholly proven when a week or so later, manipulative underdog Phoebe pulled off a spectacular move that WOULD have blindsided a fellow castaway, only for the Tribal Council in question to once again be revealed as a fake-out, a dastardly move on the producer’s behalf, which ensured her departure the following episode.
Other slights to the Survivor name witnessed on Aus Survivor include but are not limited to, a post-challenge reveal that the last three placed contestants were off to the previously unannounced Exile Island for apparently no reason, some truly heinous examples of sensationalised advertising (remember when the gratuitously hyped ‘SUE’S BIG MOVE’ turned out to be nothing more then a figurative readjusting of one’s undie straps?) and, oh jesus fucking christ these:
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Due to the many faults by producers, it’s hard not to put the blame on them for an unusually tepid back half of a season of Survivor, which resulted in one of the dullest final threes in history, with snoresville ex-Army blank page El riding the coat-tails of the frustratingly and equally vanilla-flavoured straight-edged Lee, joined by clueless, shiny-object-distracted Kristie.


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Ultimately we live in world of our own design, and with the consistently high ratings of The Bachelorette & Masterchef style shows, it’s of no surprise that Australian Survivor would borrow many of its thematic mainstays. 
Whilst I’m upset the show didn’t turn out how I would have liked it to, and my housemates now know and fear the constantly burning rage living inside me that only escapes when Survivor makes me sad, I did mostly enjoy the return of Survivor to our fair shores, and am excited to see it return next year.
Until then, I’ll be busy getting balls deep into the new US season which just started, in which I’m currently placed third in my fantasy league (I was serious about that little amount of sex thing), but if LaPags wants to come over sometime soon to chat how exactly to improve Season 2 of Aus Survivor, I’ll be waiting. 
Shirtless. With many scented oils.

Australian Survivor airs its final episode tonight on Channel 10 at 7.30pm, with applications now open for the second season. 
The current season of US Survivor: Millennials Vs Gen-X, airs on 9Go Thursday nights.
Images: CBS / Channel 10

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