‘The sheer incompetence was astonishing’: What we learned from celebrity traitors | Traitors

‘WWhy is it always mine? I always have to do the dirty work for these traitors. I’m surprised they didn’t put me in that tower with the hovercraft! Yes, it’s always you, Alan Carr. And most people who watch The Celebrity Traitors wouldn’t have it any other way. But even aside from marking Carr’s rise to national treasure status, The Celebrity Traitors felt like a timely national bonding experience from beginning to end. Elon Musk insists civil war in the UK is inevitable. Sorry, Elon, but not during Celebrity Traitors, he’s not. We’re all too busy watching Celia Emery scream down the well.

So what did we learn? Of course, the experience of “Celebrity Traitors” was very different from the civilian version. On a basic level, it’s easier to pick a favorite and root for them. Although £100,000 is a lot of money for someone on the national average wage, it is a small sum for the likes of Stephen Fry and Jonathan Ross. Of course, the celebrity winner(s) wouldn’t get the prize anyway, as the winnings would go to charity – but in any case, there was a strong feeling that it was all about the fun parlor game and not the winning.

At first, it was the lack of risk – plus the fact that most of these people already knew it, or at least knew it custom, each other – which made the roundtable meetings rather frustrating. Too bad no one pretended to be Welsh. No one hid his true profession, so how could they? To admit to being an actor in “Norman Traitors” would be a death wish. Here, you can’t move for love. There was no alliance, no confrontation, and hardly any real intent at all. “We love each other very much,” David Olusoga once said. “That was our weakness.”

Accordingly, while stars are born (hello, Cat Burns), the pre-existing celebrity hierarchy has undoubtedly spilled over into the game. There was a lot of talk about unconscious racial bias when Niko Omelana and Tameka Empson were the first two famous people to be exiled. But arguably the most likely explanation is that they simply weren’t popular enough. After all, it’s easier to wage a witch hunt against some troll on YouTube than it is to wage a campaign against national treasure and designated genius Stephen Fry.

However, this became less of a problem as the game went on. There has been a realization that no one is ever honest with most of these people – especially in public. So, while the atmosphere of unforced, genuine familiarity was a vicarious pleasure, the somewhat egregious moments – like Carr muttering “Yabba daba don’t!” And when Jonathan Ross showed up at breakfast apparently dressed as Fred Flintstone – that was really cool; The sound of bubbles popping gently.

The sheer incompetence displayed on screen was astonishing and strangely endearing. In this celebrity version of the show, it becomes clear that overtly analytical intelligence won’t get anyone very far. David Olusoga’s tortured, circular monologues are so consistently misleading that you actually begin to retrospectively doubt the veracity of his highly regarded documentaries (imagine overthinking things to the point where you’re left doubting the most faithful believer in the history of traitors, Nick Muhammad). Stephen Fry was generally hedged and annoying as Bugpuss’ Professor Yaffle before David Olusoga was cast again in the finale. And Kate Garraway – literally a news journalist, lest we forget – often made blunders like someone trying to blow up a birthday piñata during a bomb disposal operation. “Kate Garraway repeating things” has become a meme since the show began.

In the absence of anything useful from the much-vaunted brain trust on offer, it was left to the rugby player to get things done. This has also been revealed. For all his charm, there is, you might think, very little insincere kissing and flattery in the world of Joe Marler, and this was his greatest. He came from a different professional arena than anyone else on the show: an unemotional place of teamwork, mutual accountability, hard-hitting, and intense competitiveness. He’s probably the only believer who treats The Celebrity Traitors like a game and winning is the goal.

But in reality, the fun was in the sharing, which is something no professional athlete can say. At times, the series felt like a series of extended interviews — the wittiest, wittiest chat show imaginable. We learn more about these people’s basic personalities by sitting and watching them eat lasagna and gossip together than we do from magazine profiles. The era of reality shows as ritualistic celebrity harassment was dying anyway. But “Celebrity Traitors” seems like another nail in the coffin.

Given the certainty that impressive names will be clamoring to appear in the next installment, the biggest problem facing the producers will be selection. The balance here – between young and old, between familiar and modern, between plausible and absurd – was perfect. The civilian series suggested it, but the blockbuster version confirmed it: it’s one of the most refined small-screen entertainment formats ever created. Parting, say kindred spirits Alan Carr and William Shakespeare, would be a sweet sorrow.

The Celebrity Traitors series final takes place on Thursday on BBC One at 9pm.