Mon, February 11, 2008

All right people, take your seats. The university has talked me out of retirement to resume my survey course, Survivor: Strategy, Tactics, and Boob-Pixelizing. I'm sure you've all read my books: A Probst Among Men, When Sub-Alliances Collide, and Slacker vs. Martyr: A Case Study in Survivor Work Ethic for the Lazy and Insane. I've collaborated with renowned nature illustrator Charles Wickham on a four-volume Encyclopedia of Metaphorical Animals, to be released by Knopf later this year.

The point is, this is well-trodden ground. We're not here to crack the code or reveal some earth-shattering new analysis. For most of you, this is an easy-A course. We'll be applying these familiar concepts to a new season of in-progress Survivoring, to see what we can get. By the end of the course, you'll all receive a certificate of study in Basic Survivor Theory, which will allow you to skip the part of the CBS audition process where you videotape yourselves skulking through backyard shrubbery wearing fake camouflage war paint, and skip directly to the part where you wriggle semi-clad in front of the camcorder for no discernible reason.

Bear with me, because I'll be forced to develop our syllabus on the fly, the night after we all do each week's assigned viewing. This increases the chance that we may have three lectures in a row titled "Why Are Tribal Council Answers So Goddamned Coy?!" If the game gets truly awful (as it often does) we may see a repeat of two years ago, when I came to class drunk and reeking of the Monkeys of Lopsided Remmunity Challenges and the university revoked my tenure, escorted me off campus, and shuttered the course early.

I. OSTEWHUB

("Or So The Editors Would Have Us Believe") This concept applies to every aspect of watching Survivor. The editors have the responsibility of compiling each week's footage into a cohesive story, which means a great deal of selection: most of what happens doesn't make it on the air. For some reason, they have also been tasked with obscuring the voting intentions of everyone in the game, so that each week's Tribal Council is a Big Shocking Surprise, even when most votes really don't need to be. This season, OSTEWHUB will also be important in playing the game, because half the contestants are competing against people whose personalities and strategy have only been revealed to them through edited episodes of Survivor. The "favorites" team may not have met before, but they've been through the drill so at least they know appearances can be deceiving. (The exception that proves the rule: Parvati, who apparently saw some mafia-grade conniving from Eliza during the Vanuatu season. Personally, I missed it, but you know girls: one false move and they'll turn on you.) We'll come back to OSTEWHUB time and again. This week, for example, it plays a major role in interpreting the Tribal Council vote.

II. "Fans" and "Favorites"

This season, Survivor tells us its 20 (gag!) competitors fit one of two roles: a "fan" or a "favorite." Hasn't everyone who's appeared on the show since Australia been a fan? People aren't being kidnapped into Survivor are they? (With the possible exception of Probst.) I know Yau-Man was recruited at a mall, and they reportedly had to dig deep to find non-whites for the race war season, but for the most part it seems like people audition for Survivor because they've seen the show. (This group has been briefed on the "Fans vs. Favorites" branding, however – they miss no opportunity to gush about what huge fans they are.) Of course, the term "favorite" is used as generously as "all-star": it comes down to who could be cajoled back onto the show. No returning "favorite" comes from a season earlier than the All-Star game, with the exception of Jonny Fairplay, who is available to appear before a camera any time one is powered on. Yau-Man wins the impromptu applause-o-meter when Probst announces his return, and people have an inexplicable affection for Ozzy, but other than that, these people were hardly difference-makers in past seasons. (I am, of course, thrilled to see Jonathan again. And he's champing at the bit to disappoint me again with his hasty, misguided strategy.)

Amazingly, the "favorites" take that designation to mean "seasoned professionals." It's as though they think they've accomplished something that proves their Survivor prowess. (Not one of them is a previous winner.) Or somehow, because the other team is labeled "fans," they assume them to be autograph-seeking fans of theirs, not fans of the show in general. In an interview, Jonathan says, "People are 'fans' of the Boston Red Sox. That doesn't mean you want to play against the Red Sox!" If the only difference between me and Manny Ramirez is that his audition tape got picked sooner than mine, then yeah, I wouldn't mind playing against him. It's not like Jonathan slogged through the Survivor Minor Leagues, paying his dues and learning the keys of the game. He wasn't plucked from the Dominican Republic as a teen Survivor prodigy – he just showed up, and they dumped him in the wilderness with some other morons. (Correction: he showed up with that hat.) Ozzy – never a stranger to self-promotion – gives essentially the same interview. "They've seen how awesome I am; now they'll be out to get me." Here's hoping, dumbfuck. The sooner the better. If these returning players were really the experts they believe themselves to be, they'd have gained 20 pounds to stave off the starvation. By this metric, only Jonny Fairplay is a true expert.

(You'll notice, by the way, that Ozzy has been upgraded from "bartender" to "photographer," although I sense that may be a typo of "pornographer." Jonathan, once a "writer," is now a "writer/producer"; Parvati is a "charity organizer." Eliza is alarmingly still a "law student"; perhaps she had to repeat a grade.)

This whole scenario is going to turn into the dull luxury/poverty game we had a couple of seasons ago if the teams aren't shuffled quickly. Like, two or three weeks, tops.

III. Know Your Personalities

The "favorites" spend so much time preening and congratulating themselves that the "fans" breeze their way to victory in the immunity challenge. This means we barely spend any time with them, since most of the footage must be devoted to misleading us about the TribCon vote. We do get to meet Chet, the gay guy, who asserts that the Airai team ("fans") will have the advantage over Malakal ("favorites") because they've seen their opponents on TV and know their tricks and strategies. (Remember, Chet! OSTEWHUB!) We also meet Kathy, the golf course vendor. (This brings to mind a comical image of her going door-to-door with swatches of fairway, but I think it means she sells sandwiches at a golf course.) She's the oldest this year – at least in terms of spirit and ability – and she's a crazy person. She's the one who instantly puts her foot in her mouth by making random, intensely personal conversation with people she's just met. She's all over Chet to confirm that he's gay and ask him whether she should call him "gay" or "homosexual." My favorite reply to this type of question is, "I go by Chet, actually." But Chet's response is pretty good, too. He tells her he doesn't get offended and either term is fine. I love people who don't get offended, especially people who probably hear a lot of offensive things. Put this guy on the "favorites" team!

In an interview, Kathy says she "knew right away" that Chet was gay. "You can just tell," she says, indicating that she may have known a gay person once, "in the 1980s," but otherwise Chet is her first. Next she confirms with Chet that being homosexual "doesn't mean you want to be a girl, right?" Hello? Are their people alive in the 21st century who really aren't clear on this? Maybe Brokeback Mountain was a more "necessary" film than I had realized. For someone who can't distinguish homosexual from pre-op transgender, Kathy is awfully proud of her gaydar.

Moments later she's practically asking Tracy if she can touch her breast implants. Everyone giggles nervously, but you have to imagine Tracy gets this question nearly as often as Chet hears, "Are you gay?" At least Tracy's fake boobs were a choice. And in Kathy's defense, your implant-dar would have to be seriously impaired to miss this set. (People, please vote Tracy off soon. I do not want to watch her lose a lot of weight.)

Other than a few brief interviews (Erik: "I run track and I weigh 80 pounds. I'm taking Ozzy down!" Joel: "Og want million. Og strong!") the only other "fan" we meet is "aspiring writer" Mikey B, who will be referred to as Michael, because you can't have a nickname like Mikey B if there aren't even any other Mikes to be distinguished from. He quickly sets about nicknaming his teammates: "We've got Big Bird [Kathy], the southern princess [Alexis, apparently], the Incredible Hulk [Joel], Jon Bon Jovi in his prime [Jason], and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy [Probst – I mean, Chet]." Listen, bub. I'm sure you think you're such a clever aspiring writer, deconstructing Survivor with witty sarcastic barbs and reducing its players to one-note stereotypes. That's pathetic. Is it me, or does anyone else think Mikey B is like a dumber, chubbier David Arquette? See spot run, motherfucker.

IV: Vote Out The Swing Vote

When two alliances of equal numbers are courting the vote of one person to help them eliminate someone from the other group, they should always pool their resources and vote for that swing vote. This is Survivor Strategy 101. (We offer that course in the fall, by the way.) The point of an alliance is to consolidate power with numbers. If one person is a swing vote, that guy has all the power and your alliance has none. Thus, both alliances will always gain by eliminating that person – then they can sort things out the next week. Rather than taking a 50/50 chance that you'll lose a member and be outnumbered, you guarantee that you remain strong and get rid of a powerful opponent and a source of uncertainty. In the course of Survivor history, this has happened roughly never. But Jonny Fairplay sets up the perfect situation within a few hours of waking up on day two, and miraculously, the rest of Malakal obliges him. Of course, the editing makes it impossible to figure out whether the alliances joined forces, or whether each group independently realized it was dangerous to keep Fairplay in the game. Originally, he sets up a fake "vote out the swing vote" in which the he and the Flirting Foursome (Ozzy/Amanda; Parvati/James) will actually vote for Eliza. But for reasons we never see (because they'd spoil the ending and for some reason the editors hate that even though the ending is only three minutes away), everyone votes for Fairplay except Fairplay.

V: Understanding Jonny Fairplay

To quote the great Dave Foley: "Jonny Fairplay is like Andy Dick, if Andy Dick weren't gay. Or funny." I hated him on Survivor: Pearl Islands, not really because of the fake dead grandma, but because he made such a big deal out of how brilliant that was and it didn't really gain him that much. Mainly, I hated his ability to make everyone else trust him even though they knew they shouldn't. People would routinely say things like, "I know he lies constantly, and I know he's probably lying right now, but I guess I'll do what he says." He coasted through a handful of successive TribCon votes that way. Plus, he is an unfunny Andy Dick, and without funny, Andy Dick is just a horror show. Completely obsessed with himself, an absolute whore for attention, utterly unable to realize when "the joke's on you guys" has run its course and has become a pathetic crutch for utterly unacceptable behavior.

But Fairplay won me over, partly by dressing up as Probst, and – when questioned about it – quipping: "You wanna know what you're playing for?" This got a huge laugh from fans and favorites alike, and I of course loved it. If only he would ditch "the joke's on you guys" and focus all his energy on "the joke's on Probst," I think he'd instantly become my all-time favorite. I also like his strategy, because at first he appears to be playing his typical Jonny Fairplay game – trying to mix things up just for the sake of doing it. But in no time, he's actually got two separate alliances believing that he is a mole for their side within the other group without questioning for a moment whether he might actually be a mole for the other group inside them. As he says, "Have you people never watched this show before?" It's pretty breathtaking.

He begins by playing his typical publicity game, making announcements like "Yau-Man tackled me" or "I have a pregnant girlfriend; I'm here to win some money." (The Fetus-Needs-A-New-Pair-Of-Shoes strategy.) He hopes that later, when he's hatching some unrelated lie, someone will remember one of these statements and it will seem like he's being honest or consistent, rather than just barking out anything that might give him an advantage. Then he's off conspiring with each alliance and feeding them exactly what they want to hear. Then Malakal loses the immunity challenge. And before you know it, Fairplay is interviewing that he really misses his girlfriend and he's concerned he might miss some important news about her pregnancy. He seems to break down, worrying that he's being a bad father-to-be by living in the jungle for the bulk of her third trimester. At first, this seems like textbook Jonny Fairplay crocodile tears. (And here I'm referring to my textbook, Jonny Fairplay's Crocodile Tears.) Could this Unborn Child be the new Dead Grandma? Have we confirmed he even has a girlfriend?

Fairplay tells Parvati the same story and pretends he wants to leave, and Parvati hatches a plan to tell that story to the other alliance, get them to waste their votes on him, and the rest of Malakal can vote out Eliza. Fairplay goes to Ami and tells her his sob story as planned; Ami sets aside her typical credulousness and asks her group if they should be skeptical of this. Fairplay interviews that he's a mastermind (it amazes me they can find footage of him not saying that into a camera), and then we're off to TribCon.

What happened?

Ask the editors, because it's impossible to say. If I were Jonathan, I'd have approached Parvati or Ozzy and said, "He's feeding us this line about wanting to go home, but he might be feeding you the same thing. The smart thing is to contain the problem and just get rid of him." Maybe that happened. Or maybe Parvati's group just wised up on their own. Maybe everyone planned from the start to trap Fairplay in this situation. Or maybe everyone actually took him seriously, felt bad for him, and sent him on his way.

But there are some problems with that. For one, if he really wanted out, he could quit. He explicitly tells Probst, "This is not a quit." That's splitting fine hairs. The only difference between quitting and asking everyone to vote for you is that some people could still vote for someone else. If Fairplay were sincerely upset and wanted to leave – and not just fucking with people – he'd quit. Also, if something terrible happened to his pregnant girlfriend, the producers would notify him, just like they did with Jenna M on Survivor: All-Stars. He knows that. Everyone should know that – have these people never watched this show? Maybe not, because they would also know that being voted off does not mean being sent home. I don't even think you're allowed to call home. You have to hang out in a hotel room and wait for the end of the 39 days, to preserve the secrets of Tribal Council until the episodes air.

So what the fuck happened?

In his exit interview, Fairplay says he left on his terms and he had everyone eating out of the palm of his hand. This implies he really did want to go, but of course his pride forces him to imply that. My theory is that Fairplay got to the island and suddenly remembered how uncomfortable it is to live out there for six weeks. He realized he'd be a target, like Hatch was on All-Stars, because everyone knows he's a manipulator. He realized he'd be under constant pressure to do crazy stuff, or it would look like he'd lost his edge. (As Ozzy says, in a rare moment of clarity, "He has his villain persona to live up to.") I think that's a lot of pressure. There's really no way he can win – either the million dollars, or the little game in his head where he controls everyone like puppets. So he decided to bail, but he did it – in typical Fairplay fashion – in the most convoluted and contrary way. He came up with a lie to make it seem like he brilliantly engineered his exit, rather than being eliminated by a bunch of people who knew better than to trust him. Was the "swing vote" charade just a way of hedging his bet in case he wasn't voted off? Maybe, but Fairplay voted for Ozzy, so he definitely wasn't playing according to Parvati's game plan – that would've required a vote for Eliza.

I guess the best thing to do is not devote too much thought to it. Who knows what goes on in Fairplay's head? I'll admit, though, I was sorry to see him go. He definitely owed us more.

Study Questions

1. Parvati says this time around her strategy will be "more than just flirting." Did she mean "other strategy" or did she mean "going all the way"?

2. Who's more despicable: someone who would label himself a "fan" of Survivor, or someone who would voluntarily appear on the show twice? Discuss.

3. Is Kathy the mutated result of an experiment mixing the DNA of Ruth Buzzi and Joan Cusack? Will she ask to see James's penis to confirm "what they say" about black men?

4. Eliza refers to her "keen powers of observation." Calculate the ratio of Eliza's retinal surface area to that of a normal human.

5. If every player on your team has fallen ass-backwards into an alliance already, does teaming up with the only viable remnants technically qualify as "building an alliance?"

Viewing for Next Week

"The Sounds of Jungle Love" in which Joel astonishes us all by playing the workhorse-martyr, and Ozzy makes yet another sex tape.

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