In 2003, CBS lost a lawsuit against ABC and Britain’s ITV over an American version of ITV’s hit series I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here. According to a BBC report from January of that year, a district judge ruled that ABC and ITV had not borrowed any more similarities to CBS’ hit show Survivor than any other reality TV show in creating their series about celebrities trying to survive in a jungle.
In other words, Survivor essentially created this trope—a genre of planting and filming everyday people choosing to live off the grid for… fun?—and now it must live with the consequences… and the disappointing rip-offs.
Though they won the lawsuit, ABC’s version of I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here was short-lived. It initially lasted one season with dancer and Jennifer Lopez’s ex-husband Cris Judd triumphing over the likes of Melissa Rivers and Caitlyn Jenner. The series briefly returned to American airwaves in 2009 (this time on NBC), but it again only lasted one season. (Lou Diamond Phillips won that year, FYI.)
Why is this show back in the news? It’s not. But in an unexpected twist, CBS’s newest show is harkening back to the tale of I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here (America’s version). The British iteration is a huge hit, completing its 21st season (!) in December.
With CBS finally getting in on placing celebrities in locations without Wi-FI or modern plumbing, it begs the question: How are we just now getting what basically amounts to a celebrity season of Survivor? And are their “fish out of (filtered) water” perils even worth watching?
On Wednesday, CBS debuted Beyond the Edge, a reality competition where nine celebrities raise money for charity by living in the Panamanian jungle for two weeks.
Hosted by Showtime Sports announcer Mauro Ranallo, the show promises celebrities like Bachelor alum Colton Underwood (controversial!), Real Housewives of New York star Eboni K. Williams (fun!), and Fuller House actress Jodie Sweetin (aww!), as well as athletes like Metta World Peace, Mike Singletary and Ray Lewis—all testing their limits in the wild. Rounding out the cast are supermodel Paulina Porizkova and country singers Lauren Alaina and Craig Morgan.
Having seen the first two episodes of Beyond the Edge, my review is actually a meme. I can’t stop thinking about how the show didn’t follow Tyra Banks’ edict. In a meme-ified clip from America’s Next Top Modelin 2005, Banks told a contestant to “learn something from this.”
Unfortunately, it seems Beyond the Edge has learned little from the I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here (America’s version) and its failure to launch. And we, Survivor’s devoted legion of fans, were rooting for you. We were all rooting for you!
Beyond the Edge feels a lot like Survivor without the official designation. This is hard to ignore considering the shows don’t just air on the same network, but Survivor is the lead-in to Beyond the Edge on Wednesday nights.
Survivor experienced a renaissance during the pandemic, so it’s understandable that CBS may have wanted to capitalize on its return to the zeitgeist. (So. Much. Bingeing.) Still, everything about Beyond the Edge harkens back to that CBS reality TV show which goes unnamed.
Both depend on beautiful nature shots and endless amounts of mud. Both have contestants living in bamboo structures and hacking open coconuts. Even Ranallo’s introduction in the premiere episode evokes Probst’s signature emphatic opening monologue, punctuated by drone footage of a vast, lush tropical location.
The challenges are also eerily similar, with teams wearing colored accessories. (In Beyond the Edge, they’re sleeves, not Survivor’s signature Buffs.) They tackle obstacle courses that seem to always end up in a puzzle.
For all the similarities, Beyond the Edge misses the cornerstone of Survivor: There are no stakes!
The celebrities can pull themselves from the competition, but no one is voted out. The show tries admirably to maintain suspense with teaser clips previewing possible injuries and the ever-present looming threat of who might request to go home. But viewers are savvier than the bait-and-switch of a TV clip. Without stakes, Beyond the Edge feels more like a company-wide group activity at a (muddy) work retreat than an engrossing hour of television.
Of course, this begs the question: Why not just film an official spin-off called Celebrity Survivor? Beyond the Edge has great potential. I found myself smiling throughout the first two episodes and even tearing up as one contestant shared a heartbreaking anecdote about their family in the second episode.
After decades of reality shows (including Survivor) exploiting contestants' well-beings for laughs, it’s refreshing to see that backstabbing and ruthlessness aren’t baked into the formula. It also helps that the cast is enjoyable. Porizkova is a gem, at one point even serving buddy comedy with a mule in the pilot. Sweetin and Metta offer an unexpected friendship, while Singletary is a supportive father figure for the cohort. And don’t get me started on Alaina. Who knew such a charismatic personality came from the J.Lo-Steven Tyler era of American Idol, where she got her start.
This investment in positive gameplay is a noble pursuit and possibly even indicative of the evolving era of reality competition shows. Todrick Hall irked his fellow Celebrity Big Brother contestants with what’s been categorized as “duplicitous” gameplay, while Survivor largely has done away with polarizing players in recent seasons. TV’s other, classiest, standard-bearer reality TV competition, Top Chef, also proved how much more enjoyable the genre could be without the clichés of scheming “love to hate” villains and bad behavior—choosing camaraderie instead.
There should be a way to have competitive reality TV without devolving into sensationalism and disrespect. Beyond The Edge is nearing that formula but doesn’t quite complete the puzzle.
