I have just subjected myself to the first week of Season 27 of Big Brother — four interminable episodes — and after 26 seasons, I cannot believe people actually watch this mess. I also can’t believe it’s taken me this long to start. I’m going to watch the whole thing, and I’ll probably loathe myself for it.
I don’t like the Big Brother residents — they’re mostly insufferable — and the challenges are mind-numbingly stupid. But I can’t resist the social dynamics, which is exactly what makes Survivor and Traitors so compelling. Everyone in the house speaks in reality show clichés, and even after just one week, it’s clearly such a pressure-cooker that they manage to spin serious drama out of something as mundane as a long shower.
What hooks me is the way the game pits everyone against each other while simultaneously forcing them into alliances to survive. There’s something primitive about it that makes it impossible to look away, even though I can’t imagine being in the same room with any of these people for more than ten minutes without evicting myself from the house. Put me on Exile Island for a month on Survivor before making me spend five minutes in conversation with even one of these people.
One week in, I’ve got a rough sense of how it works. The week begins with a challenge to determine the Head of Household (HoH), a double-edged sword. While the HoH is safe from eviction, they also have to nominate three players for eviction, instantly creating enemies. There are a couple of other challenges throughout the week that can save a nominee (or someone else) from the chopping block, and another competition near the end that reduces the potential evictees from three to two. The rest of the house then votes on who to send packing. It’s a series designed to create enemies.
A typical week includes three episodes, most of which are filler. Everyone in the house seems to be playing the game at all times, which makes watching 17 people (including returning reality star Rachel, of Big Brother, The Amazing Race, and Traitors fame) strategize endlessly kind of exhausting. But that’s also the draw: everything else about Big Brother is Candyland, but there’s real chess in how they manipulate the house dynamics.
Everyone talks about what’s good for “my game,” with little concern for what’s good for anyone else’s game. In the early going, they’ll latch onto the flimsiest excuse to nominate someone, like taking a long shower. The interpersonal drama after just one week already feels like it’s hit a fever pitch, and I can only imagine how much worse it’s going to get. People are crying. People are lashing out. There’s already a ton of paranoia and absolutely zero chill. And of course, romantic tension is in the air.
It’s reality television middle school, and God help me, I can’t stop watching.
Spoilers: The first eviction is a guy named Zae, who’s two parts muscle, one part blonde hair, and zero parts personality. He never stood a chance. The only real surprise was how emotional the former baseball player got over being voted out, as if someone had just put down his dog. Come to think of it, Zae was kind of a puppy dog. He threatened Rachel, and having seen her in The Amazing Race and Traitors, even I know that was a monumentally stupid move.
Please, I beg you: If you don’t already watch Big Brother, don’t start. But if you do, know this: there is no one to root for, only contestants to root against. Even the muscle-bound guy named Keanu who plays Dungeons & Dragons and inexplicably follows around the woman who paints aura flowers and dresses like she time-traveled from the 1960s.
What is wrong with these people, and why can’t I quit them? I blame Dan.
