Did the winner play a blinder? Or could it be that the trusting players act exceptionally – I mean sensational poorly? Discussions will rage through digital feeds for some time, in any case the victor of the first – and likely not the final – season of The Celebrity Traitors is the deceptive Alan Carr.
At the moment of his appointment by the host, we thought he would not survive a single hour. He proved that right. “I’m unwell. I suffer from a sweating problem and am unable to hold a secret.” Additionally, he fails to murmur or recall whether he’s won a shield.
Surrounded, however, by several of the least astute players of the game for quite some time, he pulled through, developing into the role with alarming simplicity. He concluded with a flourish, bursting into partially insincere weeping about how difficult it had been for him to carry the murderous burden.
The remaining pair of faithfuls, rushed to comfort him (“It has been ripping me to pieces!”). Viewers watching, it’s easy to picture heavenward looks and yells.
The Final Showdown
As things commenced of the last episode, there had been five remaining players of the initial nineteen. Following a final team challenge, involving a locomotive, £20,000 in padlocked caskets, tools and tips dispersed throughout the carriages, and two metal-bound caskets (“I assumed control a bit there,” notes one participant of the revealing. “Because I was happy to lose a finger”), they gathered for their final discussion.
A pair of players submitted their choices for another player, regardless of the historian’s impressive record of thinking his way to every erroneous outcome imaginable. I stay convinced in my view that that contestant would have made the most superb deceiver, but as a trusting player he was catastrophic.
He did manage to choose a different player at the meeting, nevertheless, and she was correctly expelled in the end.
Emotion and Resolution
Down to the final quartet. I can hardly bear to narrate what transpired following. A specific participant … experienced a doubt. A period when he doubted his closest ally. A standout bonds of recent history, between the biggest personality and the smallest figure on TV, the rugby player and the puzzlemaster, staggered under the blow as the uncertain player revealed his concluding choice to show his dearest companion’s name.
The accused remained steady – he is not built for it – but if he could, he would have. “But I love you,” the participant said, hopelessly.
The ousted contestant departed, the surviving pair assumed they were in the clear and after some business featuring throwing pouches into a blaze, the three agreed to end the game.
Being the only remaining deceiver, the winner was proclaimed the success and claimed the full prize pot for the youth oncology foundation. Yet, the key aspect is that when the emcee led the group to a meeting on the manor entrance, amends was instant.
Parting with the Players
I shall, along with the over thirteen million other viewers, feel their absence. (Excluding two contestants who never got a chance to do much, and a different who never apologised for bungling a particular challenge.)
I shall miss the profound rage of a certain contestant, the dramatic grief of a different one, the complete failure of a further contestant to interpret events without self-reference.
I shall miss an individual’s aversion to lengthy terms, a pair’s humor, an artist’s undeniable aura, a musician as the embodiment of everything that endures as virtuous in this imperfect reality, a veteran host as the small screen’s final performer, a gentle participant and the relentless avuncularity of a beloved figure, together with all the last-round players.
Above all I shall miss the dignity and style of a particular contestant, so remarkably majestic even when shouting into a hole or breaking wind in a cabin. As the figure beneath the presenter’s locks emphasized on multiple times, you were, mostly, terrible as players. Yet you proved wonderful, exceptional diversion.
The Celebrity Traitors is accessible for viewing now.
