I remember being glued to the first, game-changing season of Survivor in 2000. Since then, I’ve fallen for everything from the raw talent on So You Think You Can Dance to the glitzy drama of The Real Housewives of New York City (my East Coast roots showing). But now? Watching cloaked figures lie and manipulate each other for $250,000 in a Scottish castle is the kind of reality TV chaos that really speaks to me.
Nothing has grabbed my attention lately like the U.S. version of The Traitors, a competition show centered entirely around deception and suspicion. In my view, The Traitors is ultimately a result of reality TV evolving into a genre where villains aren’t just tolerated — they’re often rewarded and celebrated for their dishonesty.
Each episode also permeates with a distinctly queer sensibility, and it’s not because of its players or its fabulous host, Alan Cumming (we’ll get to him later). It’s the secrecy and code-switching set against a glamorous backdrop that resonates with many queer viewers — me especially.
As a queer person growing up, I felt the need to be two steps ahead of others' suspicions, a skill I believe would serve well as a Traitor. My history of pretending to be straight and drawing inspiration from manipulative TV characters has prepared me to anticipate every scenario, from roundtable banishments to breakfast revelations, to keep me two steps ahead of the Faithfuls.
The Traitors gives me space to embrace the villain, to imagine slipping into that black cloak and playing the game as someone no one sees coming.
That fantasy is harder to buy into when everyone on screen already has a brand. Which is why NBC’s recent announcement that civilians will be making a comeback for the U.S. edition instantly makes the game less predictable and a lot more interesting. Especially for those of us still waiting to see ourselves at that roundtable.
If Agatha Christie wrote a drag version of Clue, it would be The Traitors
For the uninitiated, the premise of the Peacock show is this: Put two dozen competitors in a Scottish castle, assign them one of two roles (Faithful or Traitor), and watch what happens. I see it as an epically scaled version of the game Mafia, where players attempt to root out saboteurs while competing in challenges along the way, before voting to banish who they think is a Traitor.
The murder-mystery theme of the show will pique the interest of any fan of the genre, particularly someone like me who is a fanatic of the movie Clue and was raised by a mother who worshipped at the altar of Agatha Christie. I was immediately drawn to The Traitors in early 2023 when the first season dropped with a cast featuring a mix of civilians and reality TV stars. It was fascinating to see the dynamic play out between everyday people (Andie Vanacore, we say your name) competing alongside reality TV stars, including celebrated alums from Survivor (hi, Cirie!) and Real Housewives franchises (Brandi Glanville).
As Mashable's Shannon Connellan has outlined before, Cumming as the show's chic but cryptic host is reason enough to binge-watch the available seasons as we wait for the show to return. He’s a pitch-perfect facilitator, delivering delicious one-liners with the right amount of sass, styled in scene-stealing outfits.
However, that’s not entirely why this cutthroat competition has me hooked.
Come for the camp, stay for the sabotage
Having watched three seasons of the US version and two of the UK version, I’ve concluded that the show is designed for Traitors. With no real clues to find early in the mystery game, there’s no reason to suspect anyone. All a player has to do is voice some doubts, and from there, we get to watch how quickly people become influenced and how herd mentality sets in.
Watching them sneak around in their hooded cloaks in the castle’s turret every night is fun, but what hooks me is how easily I find myself rooting for the manipulators and how comfortably I imagine tapping into my inner Traitor.
There’s an inherent thrill to being a villain; just look at how many contestants arrive ready to dig into their murderous roles. There’s something intoxicating about practicing the art of deception, without a care for who you backstab in order to be a winner. It’s kind of alluring.
Soapy queens and scheming dreams
My urge to star as a villain on The Traitors stems from watching one too many primetime soap reruns in my youth and being enthralled by the secretive and conniving vixens I admired on those shows. Knots Landing’s scheming Abby Cunningham (Donna Mills) could intimidate a lion with her wicked smile, while on Melrose Place, Marcia Cross’s Kimberly Shaw plotted against her enemies with relish.
Then again, maybe I was attracted to the campiness with which these women executed their devious plans. As a gay man, I tend to respond favorably to camp, a style known for its ostentatious and theatrical qualities. Performative deception comes with the queer territory for me. Hiding my true self for years forced me to play a certain role and trick others into believing I was someone I wasn’t. And developing a sense for camp (knowing when to be “on” or “off”) may have trained me in keeping others further off my scent.
Buying the lie over and over again
The Traitors also resonates with me because it reiterates a lie reality TV has gradually fed me for years: Authenticity is everything. The American show clearly favors panache and polish over anything resembling realness. It relies less on people “being themselves” and more on established names and personalities to deliver a good episode.
Seventeen years ago, when I first entered the Real Housewives universe, I bought into those women living in luxurious leisure. But the more popular these shows became, the more famous these women became — and the more they seemed to become lucrative commodities. And because they were commodities, the more they – and perhaps the franchise – had to flaunt their wealth via shopping sprees, extravagant vacations, or catered events celebrating a pet’s birthday. That’s when I realized the authenticity felt performative. To me, it screamed, “Aspire to have this lifestyle!”
We’re living in an era in which the reality TV genre has evolved to the point where the line between performance and reality is at its blurriest. This has birthed a new type of “real people” who know how to work the camera, and the camera seems to keep focusing on them.
Now that NBC plans to bring civilian players back into the mix, I think it would make the game feel more grounded. I enjoy seeing regular people compete to win, not perform. There’s more of an authenticity factor at play with them, and I find that kind of endearing. Veteran reality TV players built their reputations on screen; viewers who know them are biased, expecting these personalities to clash with each other.
During her exit interviews, Big Brother’s Britney Haynes, who was the last Traitor standing in Season 3, reflected on how much players, especially reality TV vets, are always thinking about what makes for good TV. I have to ask then: Will future civilian players in the American production have the same know-how? What will casting directors be looking for this time? If we’ve become a nation of viewers that favors performative reality over watching actual, real people, could that dictate their selections?
Hiding in plain realness
As for the upcoming Season 4, it still leans heavily on familiar faces, but I can see how adding actor-comedians like Ron Funches and Michael Rapaport could inject some unpredictability into the mix of contestants. Even casting Monét X Change as the show’s next resident drag queen – following in the footsteps of past contestants Bob the Drag Queen and Peppermint – could ensure some complementary camp next to Cumming.
As Ira Madison III, former co-host of the podcast Keep It, shared earlier this year, “when you cast good people who aren’t seasoned reality TV people, they will deliver a good season.” I agree. I’m sure there are plenty of everyday Americans who have perfected the art of hiding their identity and could use The Traitors as a playground to demonstrate those skills, tapping into their inner villains by strategizing and deceiving their way to $250,000.
That's who I’d root for.
The Traitors and all of its foreign counterparts are currently streaming on Peacock.
