The 50 Best TV Shows of 2025: No. 3 – Celebrity Traitors | culture

FOr the narrative twists, the unforced comedy, or the high-profile cast, The Celebrity Traitors has tucked most televised dramas into a cocked hat, or fashionable cape. We’ve all been swept up in it, from teens to retirees, judges and retail workers, and even non-fans of game shows. The show became the national conversation in a way television critics no longer thought possible. It was lightning in a bottle. Which would be a great way to kill someone.

Why was television perfect? On the face of it, it’s a simple formula that balances banter and tension, fun games and wicked group dynamics. Bucking the BBC’s ‘dumping’ model, where episodes were drip-fed until we were enslaved. Their star, of course, is Claudia Winklemann – impeccable clothes, signature hair, and sly presenting style. I saw a lot of Winklemen at Halloween parties last October, and it was like being John Malkovich with bangs. But this year the show exceeded even its own standards.

The believers were, objectively speaking, the worst. They made it their mission to expel anyone useful or loyal, and they never missed a beat. But you can’t blame them, given the bizarre nature of the group. There was the two-faced Celia Imrie, flirting with Jonathan Ross, shaking hands nervously, and talking about putting pussies in wells. Funny killer Alan Carr was delicious, gliding merrily along even when he was incapable of feigning sincerity with any seriousness. Kate Garraway used the word “stunned” at one point, which no one has ever used in a conversation in history. (In response, Tom Daley gave her a side-eye that would have gotten her a gold medal in the dubious Olympics.)

However, the believers had their heroes. Mystery Ninja Nick Muhammad, purer in heart than Harry Potter. And “serious” rugby player Joe Marler. They were like David and Goliath teaming up. Round tables, especially when full of loved ones, are often dances of conflict. (There are so many times you can hear “I’m voting for you because you’re smart and you’re going to be a brilliant traitor and I love you.”) There was none of that from the loose Harlequins mainstay, who took the traitor’s arrest personally. If he thinks you’re one, he’ll stare at you like Bane. To illustrate, he might drag his finger down his throat.

Marler’s “Big Dog” theory – as well as being controversial – was a fascinating vision of patriarchy. There seems to be something about being a tall white man in his late sixties that means people defer to you. It takes a lot to lose your seat at the table – see Jonathan Ross. One cannot help but think about our political life. It was like watching the group choose a prime minister. “It’s like playing chess against five-year-olds,” was Ross’s own assessment. A hustler to the last, and his final speech was brilliant.

One has to give Stephen Fry his due too. Often times, with reality shows, I wonder how smart “smart people” really are. Are they just a smart entertainment industry? But after judging the Believers’ strategies ineffective, Fry put forward an original theory: that the Night Traitors would be the most fatigued members of the group. Cat Burns, the traitor to whom this was directed, had to stop yawning and think quickly. She revealed her neurodivergence, and the exhausting need to hide it. A risky card to play, but perfectly timed.

You can tell a lot about people by what they respond to in a show. For example, as convincing as the double bluffs and counter-strategies were, what I liked most was when the contestants spelled each other’s names wrong. Round tables are tough enough – imagine having to listen to your friends explain to you why they think you’re cunning and a liar. Then imagine you’re looking at their menu, and they call you “Meina” or “Nather” or “Charlot” or something else. It’s ten times funnier when the distorted name is “Tom Daylee.”

Unlike me, TV viewers are sophisticated these days. They understand narrative and casting decisions and can tell when the player is granted a Hero Adjustment. There are podcasts that examine the nuances of every interaction on the show. Given this scrutiny, the fact that the producers were able to deliver a poignant finale, a conclusion that seemed shocking, inevitable, and utterly satisfying, is nothing short of astonishing. They are masters of psychological manipulation. You have to say, this is disloyal behavior.