Probably not. I know I wouldn’t have been in my prime. Most of us are much better off watching from our living rooms. It’s safer, and plays best to our personal skills and talents.
There has been a proliferation of “challenge” game shows in recent years, if you haven’t noticed. “Survivor” is some 25 years old, celebrating their 50th “season”. (They do two seasons a year, because one really isn’t enough for most people.) Some of the initial reality shows merely involved a dysfunctional collection of people living together – in a large apartment, at a resort, on an island. As they progressively got on each other’s nerves, the tension, the excitement, and the entertainment value for the viewers grew. Plus, the networks liked them because they were much cheaper to produce than dramas and comedies with real actors. Anyway, from these humble beginnings of mostly unclothed young adults in bed or in a hot tub, emerged the “challenge” shows. Contestants competed in highly structured, often insanely complex physical tasks. Those that either failed to complete the challenges or were late in completing them, left the game, or were “voted off” by the other contestants.
We often hear from the show hosts in their recruiting efforts, “if you think you’d be a great contestant on . . . . .” with a route to applying. However, having seen many of them over the years, I will suggest that a number of individuals or teams have, shall we say, misplaced faith and confidence in themselves. We watch them in action, shaking our heads and wondering if they had watched previous seasons of the show, or had any clue as to what the challenges involved. The required skills for success, and their personal skill sets are a mismatch. So, what I have done here, as a public service, is fill possible future participants in on what they’ll need to know and accomplish. Or, they can ignore my advice at their peril and we’ll see them flounder hopelessly.
Applicants for “The Amazing Race”. Phil Keoghan, host of this wonderful around-the-world game, solicits applicants for the show’s next seasons. Presumably, applicants have actually watched past seasons, and therefore know what types of challenges to expect. Some, however, seem blissfully unaware of some skills needed to complete. For example, contestants should have a basic sense of direction. Yes, you have to find your way from one destination – be it the clue to the next challenge or to the finish line. Some don’t have that. They drive around endlessly, hoping they’ll stumble upon those clue boxes. So, here are a couple of “detours” for those wanting to apply but probably won’t be successful:
Don’t apply if you are afraid of heights, because at some point, you’ll be rappelling down the side of a building, a cliff, or a tower.
Don’t apply if you tire easily, and 50 yards is your limit. You’ll need to run everywhere, with a backpack, soil leisurely strolls are more your style, you may not be built for success here.
Don’t apply if you have no sense of direction, and can’t follow road signs or a map. You’ll end up circling around Budapest for hours, totally lost, arriving well after dark, where Phil will tell you you’re the last to arrive and need to go home.
Don’t apply if you are a young couple, married or not, who’s relationship is rocky to from the starting gate. Never assume that physical and emotional challenges and stresses will heal all. It won’t, because the hard fact is we’ve seen couples that, despite their talk of “so being so proud of . . “ as they’ve failed and are heading home, I’m reasonably sure that one or the other will be in a divorce attorney’s office with a week.
Don’t apply if neither of you can drive a car with stick-shift. One team couldn’t even get out of the parking garage. They must use a car service at home.
Don’t apply if you can’t remember what you did yesterday. At the end of the journey, you will need to recall all of the places you visited and the tasks you completed, typically in the chronological order in which they happened. And, if you have the organizational skills of a fruit fly, or didn’t make note of them along the way, there’s a good chance that the $1 million prize will elude you.
Similarly, applicants for “Survivor”. Again, it goes without saying that you’ve watched this show before, and are well aware of the required mental and physical skills. For example, if “camping out” for you means poor cellphone reception or a hotel without a turndown service, this show isn’t for you. You’re on a remote island, and your only protection from the elements is palm branches. Only if you win challenges do you get real food. Otherwise, you’re enjoying a diet of bugs, coconuts, and tree bark. If you require two showers a day with fluffy towels, again, this may not be for you. Things that you shouldn’t need to be told (and yet, apparently, some do):
Don’t apply if you have terrible balance and fall over easily. You’ll be expected to walk across balance beams, climb ropes, and stand upright while juggling something round. If you’re a klutz, it won’t end happily.
Don’t apply if you’re afraid of water. A healthy number of challenges starts with the instructions, “swim out to the raft . . . .” and the interaction with water gets more difficult from there. If you tend to sink like a rock, or your primary swim stroke is the dog paddle, don’t even get out of the boat on arrival.
Don’t apply if you’re a bit of a clothes horse and require daily changes of clothing. Nobody gets out of the boat on arrival with a suitcase, so you’ll be wearing pretty much what you had on when you first stepped onto the beach, and your physical appearance will only go downhill from there.
Don’t apply if you’re not good at assembling puzzles. Just about every challenge wraps up by putting together a bag of puzzle pieces that your team found buried in the beach or sunk out to sea. Those pieces, when put together like a jigsaw, spell out a message or look like something identifiable. Interestingly, one contestant last season made it to the finals, and he admitted in an early show that he wasn’t good at puzzles. We found out along the way that he was right. He wasn’t.
Don’t apply if you are a compulsive blabbermouth, or you never have an unexpressed thought. Success relies on discretion, secrecy, hidden motives, deception, and plotting revenge. If you are an open book, you’re doomed. Or, if you are good at those, you might consider a post-game career in politics.
The most recent entry into the deceptive and duplicitous format, an import from the UK, hosted by actor Alan Cumming, and sited in a Scottish castle is “Traitors”. A race to win a pot of gold, earned by completing in “Amazing Race” type challenges. The show pits “faithful”, those working together, with a group of “traitors”, who are trying to undermine them. Contestants are either voted off, “Survivor” style, or they are mysteriously “murdered” by the traitors meeting secretly. Many of my suggestions above to those seeking to become contestants are similar, although a pool of them is drawn from other reality shows – Big Brother, Housewives. You get the picture. That adds an element of excitement, as the ones from other, previous competition reality shows know each other and have formed some sort of alliances. Here are some thoughts for these people:
Don’t talk too much. Your every word will be used as a clue in deciding if you’re one of the traitors. Much like “Survivor”, they have a round table each night, in which one player they suspect of being a “traitor” is voted off, and compulsive talkers often are the first to go. One was voted off this season just to being annoying, which he was.
In contrast to the above, don’t talk too little. The ones that are statuettes also come under suspicion. So, if you’re naturally a quiet observer, at least force yourself to say something innocuous and intelligent every now and again.
Make sure you look good in a monk’s hooded robe. If you’re chosen to be a “traitor”, you’ll be wearing one every night. And make sure you have good night vision as you’ll have to make your way, with just a lantern, into a dark tower in the dead of night. Should you stumble, either climbing the stairs or over something, you’ll drawn unwanted attention to yourself.
I hope all of this has been helpful to anyone pondering an appearance on one of these shows. I didn’t start out as a regular watcher, but my wife and daughter are, so . . . . Neither my wife nor I have either the physical stamina or mobility to even consider these “games”, and in truth, we never did. We’re far better off watching from a safe distance of . . . . our living room. Pain, suffering, exhaustion, and emotional distress always look far better on someone else.
I'm Thinking...No! 