Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Surviving Paradise’ on Netflix, Emptyheaded Reality TV That Valorizes Cheap Luxury And Exclusion

Surviving Paradise (Netflix) is produced by Studio Lambert, the reality show gamemaker responsible for stuff like The Traitors, The Circle, and the upcoming Squid Game: The Challenge, which already has its contestants wanting to sue. The challenge on Paradise? Who can represent an archetype of reality show casting in the most vacuous way possible? $100,000 is the grand prize, but to get it, contestants will vote each other into and out of the promise of popping bottles in insipid comfort vs a scenario that amounts to low-intensity car camping. There will be alliances, and eliminations, and new people added to this farce mid-game. But in the meantime, there will be a lot of empty complaining. “Did I sign up for Fyre Festival?” titters one contestant. “I don’t believe I did.”  

SURVIVING PARADISE: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT? 

Opening Shot: A structure built in an architectural style that can only be called “reality show chic” is perched on a hillside overlooking a patch of ocean water. Its sprawling outdoor area includes two pools, a champagne bar, overlook platforms, and a beveled walkway that descends to the forest floor below. 

The Gist: “I have no idea about the rules, I’m here to win money.” So says one of the initial twelve contestants on Surviving Paradise as they’re ferried to the game site by air, land, and sea. According to host Jessimae Peluso, these people think they’re heading for a summer of partying and the potential to win a cash prize. But what’s actually up is a cheap binary between inclusion and exclusion. Once everyone has arrived and partaken of a cocktail or six, Peluso appears at what’s been dubbed The Villa. “As of right now,” she says, “none of you are living here. You will be staying deep in that forest. Surviving only on rice and beans on the edge of paradise.” And this, basically, is the show. Upvote, and you reside in aspirational bling-tackiness. Downvote, and you gripe about it around a campfire that was prepared for you.

Let’s meet the reality competition avatars. Sarah Kate says “I’m a southern belle, but I have a little bad bitch spice to me.” Sisco uses a version of “vibe” or “vibing” approximately a zillion times in 20 minutes. (At one point, he may refer to his teeth as a vibe.) Shea fancies himself a ladies man, Copan is bringing aw shucks energy straight from America’s heartland, Lellies is keeping a sharp eye on everybody right from the jump – “I don’t know what I’m walking into, but I’m a hustler, and I get it together every time” – and Alex says his interests include tanning, chilling, and going out a lot. “Ermigod,” Taylor exclaims. “You’re me as a guy!”

After a night spent in the campsite where nobody seems to understand basic latrine etiquette or how to operate a sleeping bag, the group gathers around the dutch oven full of steamed rice that no one lifted a finger to cook and proceeds to complain that it isn’t avocado toast. Then it’s time to form flimsy alliances over an aimless afternoon before that evening’s voice vote back at the Villa. It’s not clear if you can just upvote yourself, but eventually one contestant does gain a majority and is granted three “Insider” spots, with the rest relegated back to “Outsider” status. And boy, the bad blood is already flowing between the individual power centers. In cutaways, Tabitha expresses concern that her alliance making has blind spots, while Lellies asserts her Insider status. “Some people are playing the game. But I’m not the type of bitch you play a game on.”

What Shows Will It Remind You Of? Too Hot to Handle has been duping its contestants with glee for multiple seasons now. Make sure you don’t confuse Surviving Paradise with Bachelor in Paradise (aka “Butt-chelor in Poo-radise”). And the entitled “I’m an idiot, get me out of here” folks of this Paradise might have learned a thing or two from the contestants on Love Village. When confronted with living quarters dating from the nineteenth century, they didn’t stand around and pout. They simply got to work with cleaning and repairs to make their situation livable.

Our Take: It comes down to luxury versus latrine. And as you might imagine, nobody in this bunch chants “Latrine! Latrine! Latrine!” with the same vigor that they can be heard to chant “Luxury! Luxury! Luxury!” Apparently there will be challenges in Surviving Paradise that will offer actual stakes. (Something called the “Survival Drop” causes another flair-up of complaints around the “Outsider” campfire.) But if you can make it to that portion of Paradise without skidding on its utterly superficial veneer, then see Jessimae Peluso for your champagne koozie, because you’re made of truly hearty reality show viewing stock. It’s impossible to imagine nine episodes being filled with anything as empty as Surviving Paradise. 

And yet, there are still so many questions. To a person, the contestants here are indignant about “the fucking twist” that has made them apply wisps of reality show logic boilerplate to achieve new levels of gloating over glasses of Korbel Brut, as their fellow competitors sleep on cots under the stars. But since none of them knew anything about the structure of Surviving Paradise on the way in – they claim their ignorance out loud multiple times, usually in conjunction with a craven couplet about winning the cash prize – wouldn’t it be entirely possible that some sense of roughing it could be in play? What would any of them have done if they arrived only to find out they were on “Alone in Paradise”? Clearly, these contestants’ understanding of reality TV begins and ends with poolside cocktailing. Which probably explains that “Luxury! Luxury! Luxury!” chant.

Sex and Skin: “Insiders” either sport short sets and bikini tops or Dan Flashes shirts open to the navel; “Outsiders” pull gray or green fleece separates from monogrammed backpacks provided by the show.

Parting Shot: “It feels like we’ve been here at least a week. I don’t even know what fucking time it is. I’m so done! Like, I’m stressed! I’m coming back into that villa and I’m raising fucking hell!” For someone who spent like three or four minutes forging alliances, Tabitha views her grievance through a singular lens.

Sleeper Star: Lellies feels like the person with the most actual dimension on Surviving Paradise. Her style of gameplay has layers, her ambition seems greater than simply getting into the Villa, and the percentage that she goes totally coldblooded mode on more than one competitor is super high.   

Most Pilot-y Line: It’s impossible to get past the line “surviving only on rice and beans on the edge of paradise.” Like, what’s wrong with rice and beans?

Our Call: SKIP IT. The reality show landscape is thick with options. It’s worth your while to build an alliance with literally any of those choices before you try the empty, callous drivel of Surviving Paradise.

Like its name, Surviving Paradise feels assembled from pieces of more interesting reality TV.

Johnny Loftus (@glennganges) is an independent writer and editor living at large in Chicagoland. His work has appeared in The Village Voice, All Music Guide, Pitchfork Media, and Nicki Swift.