One of my favorite things in the entire world is pop culture. TV shows, movies, video games, books – you name it. If it’s a series, there is a pretty high chance that I’ve either finished it in its entirety – between versions and seasons – or am working on doing so. Some may say it’s a waste of time to get so deeply involved in this world, but what is life without a seemingly meaningless passion? While it is ridiculous to say I haven’t finished a show or a book – after all, “Outer Banks” season five is still calling my name – you best bet I try my hardest to do so.
Most recently, my obsession has been with reality and competition TV. Something about its formula is so addictive that, unlike some books that I’ve killed myself to complete, I genuinely want to know everything about it via the firsthand experience of finishing it. In these types of TV shows, there really isn’t a point or elaborate storyline. You don’t get put off by bad writing, cliched plots, or continuity errors because, for the most part, it’s unscripted. I mean, the drama writes itself – literally.
For me, the show is “The Traitors.” Last year, while I was in my Philadelphia hotel room for the annual high school squash nationals trip, I discovered the show by finding out that one of my favorite contestants on another reality/competition show I love, “Love Island USA,” was on the newest season that was then being released; it’s safe to say that I’ve been hooked ever since.
For those unfamiliar, “The Traitors” is a competition murder mystery game, located in the Scottish Highlands – at least for the relevant seasons – in which there are a set of usually three traitors amongst a group of around 20 faithfuls, who compete in missions as one team to add to the prize pot or to earn a shield, either protecting themselves from the nightly killing or, as a traitor, stealing that opportunity. Sure, the missions get repetitive, the gameplay itself is pretty flawed – which is an entire other tangent I could get into – and you often find yourself screaming at your TV, asking why on earth they would make that decision or wishing your favorite player used your better argument to defend themselves during the banishments, but it is home nonetheless.
So far, I’ve watched all four completed seasons of US (and counting), two seasons of civilian United Kingdom, half of New Zealand’s only season, one season of Canada, all of “The Celebrity Traitors UK” – which is technically just one season, not including the one being released right now, which isn’t available to Americans – and the official podcast.
I eat, sleep, breathe, “Traitors.” Getting ready for school? Watching the latest episode. Doing homework? Watching the latest episode. Eating? Watching the latest episode. Going to bed? Watching the latest episode. I think I’ve convinced myself that I could genuinely win this game; all I need is to age a couple of years and get a passport. But why “Traitors?” Why did I latch onto this show so dearly? I, for one, would love to get into “Big Brother,” “Survivor,” “Real Housewives,” and “Vanderpump,” but have you seen how long those shows are? There are literally over 700 seasons of “Big Brother.” Seven hundred. Do you think I have the time for that? Unfortunately, no. So, I refuse to touch them, even just for one season.
Additionally, with the rise in social media and the easy access to content, whether it be TV shows or movies, I and others can’t help but feel obligated to consume it. At some point, the joy of engaging in pop culture turns into an overwhelming chore. Anne Helen Peterson shares in her article “Overloaded: is there simply too much culture?” in The Guardian that “I was a media studies professor who was able to devote hours of my ostensible working day to the task of consuming media. I was still falling far behind, and more so every day.” It is clear that the presence of content is growing exponentially, and we average users, as well as those who are literally being paid to consume, are stuffing our mouths full of this information until we all burst open like in “Monty Python’s Meaning of Life.”
At what point does the typical hobby of sitting down and watching the latest episode of your favorite drama turn into a part of your nightly routine just to keep up with society around you? This is my exact debacle with the show “Pretty Little Liars.” It is genuinely one of the worst shows I’ve ever seen; there is literally a teacher-high-schooler relationship dynamic that somehow everyone but her parents – at least where I’m at in the show – is okay with.
But of course, because it’s a popular mystery that people still make content and references to – like the “-A” trend on TikTok currently – I feel like I’m cheating by finding out the answers online without watching it. I’m not sure exactly which came first, but either way, it’s a wannabe “Gossip Girl” with its anonymous blackmailer and rumor-spreader plot, and that show isn’t even that good. Yet, I’m still chugging along, currently on the second season of “PLL” with unfortunately about five more to go, plus a spin-off sequel. I mean, nobody is forcing me to watch it, but somewhere in my DNA is clawing at the back of my brain, telling me to start what I’ve finished, and sadly, I’ll listen to it and finish the show one of these days.
Perhaps that completionist mentality is instilled in us by the producers of the media themselves. Streaming services like Netflix’s whole goal is to get people to stay paying for its service – we live in a capitalist society, after all – so of course it’ll try to provide as much content as possible to get people to remain on the app. Peterson, later in the same article, explains this perfectly: “To make itself ever more valuable to ever more people, Netflix began employing their massive datasets…to give flailing consumers a way to stay afloat…you were supposed to feel comforted by the fact that the screen showed you what was popular…It was supposed to feel organised yet abundant; contained but appealingly infinite.”
There is also an additional strain that, with streaming services immediately releasing an entire collection at once, some social media users with all the time in their hands will binge-watch and post about it, whereas people facing the hustle and bustle of life feel pressured to drop their responsibilities to both not get spoilers when having a non-committal scroll through TikTok and, generally, to not come down with the classic case of FOMO.
I’ve tended to notice that, unlike in the past where cable was the staple of the American household in which episodes would be broadcast on a weekly schedule, pop culture has turned into an animalistic race where the winner is whoever can get to the watering hole first, or, whoever can finish the show or head to the theaters on the day of national release and immediately publish their opinions.
The idea that we, as people who live in a first-world civilization, have to keep up with the latest anything to relate within our society should be challenged. There are so many other world-changing things that we could focus on with our given geographical privilege, but instead most teenagers and young adults choose the media culture around us, with some of the short-form content being forgotten later that same day.
It’s okay to not understand that reference, or meme, or phrase, and it’s okay to not watch that super popular movie everyone and their mother knows about. In a way, our minds can be clouded by everything else present in our lives because the impact pop culture has on Americans envelops it so strongly. There is an infinite amount of media with only a finite number of years we have in our lives, so it is important to manage our time effectively in a way that we won’t regret. If your passion is “Big Brother” and you choose to watch all 700 seasons (somehow), be my guest, but if yours is biochemical engineering within the kidney, you must know that it’s okay to be on the outs for a week; after all, nobody actually cares.
Many say that competition TV is scripted and fake because, of course, it’s ridiculous that 20 random strangers are surviving – pun intended – on an island with nothing on “Survivor”, right? Similarly, people say that reality TV is a mindless waste of time, whereas others may consider it their guilty pleasure. At least for me, nothing is guilty about the pleasure I experience trying to complete the franchises I hold so dear to my heart.
Unfortunately, I can’t say the same with all of the other content I try to consume; I find myself pushing through these horribly dull movies with half-lidded eyes just because it’s an absolute classic and that it would be a real shame to die and never experience it. As someone who wants to do anything and everything, I feel that invisible yet heavy societal burden to watch whatever is popular simply because everyone else has. While that cloud looms over me and those similar, I know that I can always fall back to my tried and true, “Traitors” and dating competition shows, no matter how mind-numbing that one insufferable film bro who’s top movie on Letterboxd is “Dead Poets Society,” “Whiplash,” or “Interstellar,” says they are.
