Episode
4
Letting the Fun Out of the Bags
Days 10-12: November
21-23, 2001
Aired: March 20, 2002
Hey Sean, I'll
betcha if they can't see our lips move, they won't be able to hear all
the insulting things we're yelling!
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Every now and then, even reality shows need a little tweaking to "keep
it real." As Gawdfathah Rob himself brought up in the last episode, as
long as you have fear on your side, you can get people to do anything.
Even the stupid, stupid Maraamu, who begin this episode reveling in their
brilliant stratagem that rid them of Hunter, who, as the Atlas of the
tribe, had been doing them the disservice of carrying the entire tribe
on his back since Episode 1. Okay, on second thought, even the fear of
the mighty and all-powerful Burnett may not be enough to pierce Maraamu's
thick skulls, but that's mainly because as soon as they remember their
pre-show survival training included watching the S3 "Twist" episode, two
seconds later it's gone again.
Rob is especially pleased with himself, because he
now wields the power in the tribe, which he is not above gloating about
at length to the camera. Hint to future contestants: No matter how powerful
you may or may not be, it is extremely unwise to taunt the producer in
this fashion. It's all well and good to ignore the sign saying "Please
don't tap on the window" next to his cage, but waving your alleged game-playing
prowess under Mark Burnett's nose is tantamount to begging him to whip
out a rules change that he's been "planning since before the game even
started."
Shockingly, just as in Survivor 3, there is a noble,
hard-working victim in this mess, this time by the name of Gina. And again,
we are strongly encouraged to believe that her days are numbered, and
that those numbers may be similar to the number of letters Sarah can remember
to put on her ballot when voting someone out. Alas, all is lost!
But then we see the Promised Land. Or at least the
alleged Promised Land. The Rotus are as happy as clams, or at least clams
that haven't been been dug up and ground between the tribe's teeth. Everyone,
from Gabe to Tammy to dear old Pappy, goes on and on about how Rotu is
a happy family. Sure, it's a family that appears to have taken enough
ecstacy to kill and elephant, and the dad is wandering around in embarassing
yellow short shorts that all the kids wish he would quit wearing in public,
but it's a family, nonetheless. Pass the toasted coconut, please! Had
Gina known this ahead of time, she may have opted to try to swim back
out, to see if she can still catch that fishing trawler.
Just as America is about to doze off watching the Rotus
sing their eighth verse of the Barney theme, Burnett whips out the kicker,
in the form an earth-shattering treemail. Knowing that the animal rights
people would get all in a tizzy if he sent it on an actual severed horse's
head, he opts for the next-best thing: scraps of wood from the construction
of the Tribal Council building, a place the Maraamu know and love a little
too well. Sadly, the pitiful M's get distracted by the message on the
wood, and completely miss the symbolism, instead jabbering incessantly
about Wheel of Fortune and puking. Mercifully sparing us the majority
of this witless repartee, Vee glibly informs us "We decided we just didn't
know" what it was about. Oh, really?
Turns out it's a fun game of Hide-the-Buff. Under more
severed Tribal Council hut chunks. Psst, Maraamu, we're looking at you!
Anyway, the tribes "completely randomly" select wood chunks to stand on,
by walking en masse to the discs closest to their carefully-placed tribal
mats. And as luck would have it, as they turn over their discs and put
on the new buffs waiting below, the Rotus end up with a majority on both
new tribes, sparing Gina. How about that?
Kathy looks over her new Maraamu tribemates and thinks,
"No, it's not a problem that each of the five guys on Rotu, and probably
the three women as well, are stronger than the three skinny girls and
the old man on this tribe put together. I can still order them into winning."
Sean and Rob celebrate their escape to the cool tribe by asking "When's
nap time?" And Sarah, looking lost and flea-bitten, vacantly wonders who's
going to tell her how to vote now.
Jeff Probst trudges slowly into Mark Burnett's office.
"Okay, we're in deep Maraamu now, Herr Commandant. Your attempt to save
Gina worked, but created bigger problems. Sure, the twist shot those slackers
smack into Rotu State Penitentiary, just as you planned, but now Operation
Eye Candy is stuck with the Taskmaster and the Dynamic Divinity Duo! She's
a goner for sure!"
Adjusting his monocle (because all evil masterminds
need a monocle), Burnett squints over at Probst, the slanted light of
his venetian blinds illuminating the faint crinkle of a smile on his lips.
"Poor misguided Jeff!" he exclaims. "Didn't you get the memo? We've decided
to take a different direction with Sarah. The whole skin thing has become
too much of a distraction. She's starting to look like a smallpox victim,
and it's making the camera operators vomit. I don't need to tell you we
don't want a repeat of the final immunity challenge from Africa, do we?
I mean, yes, she was supposed to be the winner and all, but if word gets
out that another IC was lost because of one of our employees puking, those
internet geeks will never let us hear the end of it! At least on the sites
we don't own."
"Shouldn't you have been worried from the start that
people would notice the irony that our 'reality' show spends a lot of
time focusing on the size of Sarah's chest?"
"Really, Jeff, you've got to start paying closer attention.
Haven't you heard? September 11th changed everything! Irony is dead!"
And so, it appears, is Rob, who seems to be upset
that his new tribe is not honoring his union contract of three two-hour
breaks for every minute worked carrying wood. Sean spearheads a revolt,
first drawing a slavery angle into it, while adding that ancient Rome
had lots of slaves,too. Therefore, the lasting scars of Sean and Rob's
combined cultural heritage demand that they be given reparations, in the
form of extra servings of food. But don't worry, they'll make up for their
lack of effort by lying around on the beach, making insulting comments
about their new tribemates. Holed up in the editing room, Burnett cackles
gleefully, "Don't blame me, I didn't say it!"
To fill time before the immunity challenge, we also
see the new Maraamu going on a hike to nowhere in particular, and getting
lost. As thrilling as this sounds, Sarah manages to become bored. This
would be wholly unremarkable, except that Sarah is then shown back at
camp using Paschal's American flag as a blanket, further inspiring Hunter's
Navy SEAL friends to track her down and neutralize her. Meanwhile, Neleh
reignites that happy old Rotu family-hour spirit by giddily slaying trapped
shrimp.
Eventually, as we're quickly becoming sick of both
new tribes, they get around to having an immunity challenge. It involves
weaving, in the sense that it's a puzzle with pieces that are already
woven together. So, in a more real sense, it has nothing at all to do
with weaving, but it does require teamwork to move the woven pieces, so
Kathy's extensive experience at ordering people around might come in handy.
Except that she's now on Maraamu, where both orders and skill are as foreign
concepts as, well, teamwork. And, as with every other challenge, Rotu
race out to an insurmountable lead. At several points, Maraamu in fact
seem to be losing more and more of their design, causing Jeff Probst to
race over and whisper the solution into Sarah's ear. In a cruel twist
of fate, it comes trickling out the other side.
So, once again, the Crappy Yellow Tribe That Couldn't
makes a trek to tribal council. Probst asks the usual set of questions,
such as "Now, seriously, you are aware that the point is to stay in the
game, right? I mean, sure, the vacation you get once you're booted is
probably worth more than the prize money you get for staying in, but we
do actually want you to try here. Or at least fake it well enough that
we can fix it in editing." Everyone nods profusely, and they go off to
vote. As the wind kicks up, it whistles through Sarah's ears. After reading
the inevitable four votes against, Probst invites her to bring him her
torch, to help light up his etchings back at his tent. "Maybe you can
end my innocence while we film the next episode, huh?" .
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Episode
3
Don't Ask, Don't Tell
Days 7-9: November
24-26, 2001
Aired: March 28, 2002
Getting to know
you, getting to know all about you....
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From time to time, the bivalve lifeforms that populate reality TV can
spontaneously produce a pearl. This week, Survivor was one such show.
From start to finish, this episode was chock full of the rich, enlightening
cultural investigation for which PBS routinely takes home truckloads of
Emmys. There was - and we can't even count this on one hand - a recapped
shot of vomiting, a bloody finger, a woman urinating on the bloody finger,
a toe with a gaping bloody gash in it, the severing of the piece of skin
formerly covering that gash, and a finger with a gaping bloody gash in
it. But wait, there's more! There's conflict aplenty, some brilliant strategizing,
more shots of Sarah's cleavage, extensive coverage of Sean's laziness,
and uh, the answer to this week's Puzzler: Are Maraamu the Dumbest. Tribe.
Ever?
Early returns suggest they may be. In this case, the
early return is from the previous episode's tribal council, in which they
ousted hard-working Patricia, and kept sullen Sarah, who seems almost
as immobile as the ventral upper half of her torso. But is Sarah happy
with this outcome? Oh no, she's waving her leper-like arms around because
Evil Oppressive Hunter dared insinuate she might need to work a little
more. She's also upset because she wasn't asked to help. Of course, the
last we saw of her, she was stalking off in a huff, refusing to help because
the others weren't following her orders. But that was so three hours ago.
Don't ask, Hunter, don't ask.
Then there's Sean, who is deeply offended that Hunter
had asked him to fetch some water. See Sean's jam-packed day of sitting
around was completely thrown off by this intrusive request, and the mental
anguish this inflicted probably cost them a challenge or two. And Hunter's
request, which couldn't have been less of an order if Beavis and Butt-Head's
teacher Mr. Van Driessen had given it, appears to actually have been dripping
with condescending bossiness. Don't tell, Hunter, don't tell. The food
will fall out of the trees by itself if you just wait for it, Hunter.
As a counterpoint, we visit Rotu. Soon to be beset
by Jobian trials and tribulations, which are foreshadowed by Neleh's accidentally
burning the toes off her socks. Oops, good thing Uncle CBS gives you fresh
ones if you burn them, eh? There isn't really much going on here, except
the revelation that everybody loves bossy Kathy now, and she forces them
all to kiss her, to prove it. Except Pappy Paschal, who is too busy racing
around the camp, kissing anyone who can't outrun him.
And then there's John, who gets an extra-special bonding
experience of his own. In his continuing quest to guarantee a final four
spot, he staggers off in fins and mask, and attempts to set up another
pig snare, this time under two feet of water, on top of a coral reef.
Sadly, within two seconds of entering the water, he's managed to impale
himself on the ubiquitous local sea urchins, about which the Survivors
were warned extensively in their manuals.
Being a nurse, he thinks back to his training, and
remembers that both lemon juice and urine can ease the sting's pain. Seeing
as lemon trees don't grow within oh, about twenty feet of where he's standing,
he selects the golden shower option. Everyone comes running at the first
call for volunteers. Paschal races over first, and, suddenly remembering
he left his browser hooked up to a water sports porn site back on the
computer in his chambers, turns away in embarrassment. But urine luck,
John! Kathy is right there to lend a helping hand, or at least to irrigate
one. And oh, what a relief it is!
Back at Maraamu, the night's rain seems to have drowned
out the bickering. But that all changes when Jeff Probst arrives, informing
the hapless M's that if they want to exhaust themselves losing another
reward challenge, they're going to have to build a raft out of bamboo
first. The production assistants were too busy boozing it up on their
cruise ship last night, so it just didn't get done. Sorry, those are the
breaks. As Jeffy's boat putters away, the Maraamu look anxiously at the
bamboo drifting aimlessly in the water. They know that if they give it
the evil eye long enough, it will eventually start building itself into
a raft.
But the Rotus actually seem to be having fun with building
their raft. Hack off half of Robert's big toe, he's still giddy with delight,
even when Kathy pees on it, "for cleansing purposes." Gabe, who we suspect
may actually be either Rod or Todd Flanders, can barely contain his enthusiasm
at the prospect of extra manual labor. Paschal kisses the cameramen, Jeff
Probst, and the entire production crew. John ventures back into the water
and is immediately eaten by a Great White shark. Hours later, he's coughed
back up on the beach, missing several limbs, which he cheerfully passes
off as "merely flesh wounds," and the whole tribe gathers around the campfire
to sing "I've Got That Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy Down In My Heart."
Maraamu, meanwhile, seem unable to escape the iron
grasp of Robert's voodoo doll. While Rotu are wiping the blood off of
their newly-completed raft, Maraamu's languishes unbuilt, while Sean lounges
around singing show tunes, and Vecepia gets to the end of her Bible for
the third time today. Hunter takes this opportunity to whine to the camera
about his tribemates. Apparently, he's a little peeved that they may not
be functioning well as a group. Well, duh!
Eventually, apparently after getting the cameramen
to finish it for them, in exchange for the promise of extra footage in
the future of Sarah bending over, Maraamu and their raft miraculously
end up at the reward challenge. This one involves racing the rafts in
a criss-crossing course to pick up boxes. Naturally, Maraamu lose again.
Okay, it was pretty close until Rotu surged imperceptibly ahead, and Sean
gave up rowing, in disgust. But we're not blaming anyone, it was just
bad luck that Sean threw in his oar. Rotu selects blankets and pillows
for their reward, and giggle uncontrollably about the sleepover they'll
be having tonight.
Back at camp, Maraamu have some tough questions to
answer, such as "How the hell do we keep losing to that bunch of goobers?"
An informal poll is taken, and it's almost unanimously agreed that the
primary problem is that Hunter is trying too hard in the challenges, such
that it just makes everyone else tired to watch him. They remind Hunter,
"Don't ask us to work, don't tell us to work. It's clearly your fault
we keep losing, you team-oriented bastard."
Jeff Probst approaches Mark Burnett, and tells him:
"Okay boss, we've got a problem. One tribe is so deliriously happy, no
matter what we do to them or how many body parts they lose, they still
like it. On the other tribe, we had to call in medics three times today
already, just to pick their noses for them. They say they're saving their
strength for the challenges. I'm not pointing fingers here, especially
not this one that I haven't washed yet, but one tribe keeps losing challenges.
What can we do to even things up?" Burnett replies: "I know! A swimsuit
competition!"
Eventually, they settle instead on the time-tested
rolling-the-coconut-around-the-maze-table game, which was a favorite of
Early Bronze Age societies, at least those that couldn't afford the Nintendo
Gamecube. Probst looks on, grinning knowingly, as Maraamu leaps out to
a seemingly insurmountable lead. "There's no way these idiots can possibly
lose this one," he chuckles. But then, tragedy strikes, as one of the
magnetized coconuts Rotu was supposed to use suddenly appears on Maraamu's
table, and the unthinkable happens. Both the coconut itself and the hole
through which it is supposed to drop have like charges, and they repel
each other vigorously. At the same time, Rotu manage to work through the
tranquilizer darts being shot into their backs by the production crew,
and slowly, slowly guide their final coconut into the hole. Rotu wins
again.
Later, Rob wanders around Maraamu's camp, talking to
each person, and quoting passages from the Godfather. Mark Burnett suggests
to him that he hint broadly that, since as far as they can tell he's an
Italian-American from the Northeast, he may know some guys who can take
care of things, if they don't vote the way he wants them to. "Trust me
on this one," Burnett says, "People love to see ethnic stereotypes." At
tribal council, Probst asks them several questions, mostly variations
on a common theme: "How come you guys are such a bunch of losers? Does
it feel bad to lose so much? Are you aware that losing is not the best
way to avoid getting kicked off the show?"
Demonstrating their comprehension of this line of questioning,
they then proceed to vote off Hunter, citing declining ratings for their
morning show, and pointing out that male viewers aged 18-25 have expressed
a preference that the morning weather report instead be delivered by "a
chick with really big hooters." Staring down his competition, Hunter swears
they'll get their comeuppance, and he'll land on his feet at a new station,
with bigger and better ratings, just the way that Johnny Fever did when
he was fired from WKRP.
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