‘Love Is Blind’: Every International Version Ranked, From Sweden to Japan

On any given week, it seems Netflix is premiering a new Love Is Blind. Whether it be a fresh season of the U.S. version, like Season 6, which will debut just in time for Valentine’s Day on Feb. 14, or a new international edition, it seems that love and drama are always in the air. Once Love Is Blind took the States by storm, it flew down south for Love Is Blind: Brazil in 2021, and then overseas for Love Is Blind: Japan one year later.

Last week, we got a new entry with Love Is Blind: Sweden—a show that promises to answer the all-too-familiar question, “How do the Swedes do romance, anyway?” Based on the first four episodes of Love Is Blind: Sweden, the answer is… pretty much like everyone else, except perhaps with a little more maturity than some of their (*cough* American) counterparts.

But how do all of these shows stack up next to one another? We, The Daily Beast Obsessed’s resident Love Is Blind scholars, have compared notes and decided on a definitive ranking, from worst to best.

Love Is Blind: Sweden

According to this offshoot’s inaugural season, Sweden has one of the world’s highest percentages of singles. But in the first four episodes that debuted last Friday, at least, Swedish contestants also seem a little less prone to heated competition; while love triangles do inevitably emerge, the participants all seem to genuinely support one another, even when they’re interested in the same person. (See, for example, a moment when one woman transitions straight from grieving her break-up to hugging the person her beau chose instead.)

As with pretty much every season not made in the U.S., the production design for Love Is Blind: Sweden is far better and only minimally inspired by IKEA. Think: calming colors, a lot of light-grain wood, and lots of decorative plants. (Love Is Blind: Brazil, meanwhile, went with a more Art Deco-meets-nightclub-inspired look.) The show also takes its time laying out certain characters’ backstories, which become increasingly relevant as the series progresses.

So far, we’re loving Love Is Blind: Sweden. We don’t have enough information about our couples’ post-Honeymoon lives to place this season above the others, but should further information change our minds, we’ll recalibrate our rankings accordingly.

Love Is Blind: Brazil

It feels unfair to knock the show itself for this, but it must be said: The dubbing for Love Is Blind: Brazil is somehow far worse than that of the other two international editions, and that makes it much harder to watch while, say, doing dishes. The English-speaking voice actors make no attempt to imbue their lines with emotional resonance, and at times, contestants’ speech winds up sounding so sped-up as to become unlistenable.

Once we switched to the subtitled version, the show improved tremendously. We were finally able to appreciate all of the qualities that set Love is Blind: Brazil apart for the better: It is by far the most diverse of all the editions, both in terms of race and body size, and Season 3 even featured a disabled participant whose relationship lasted until the end. Some of the players have children, whom we meet on-screen in delightful playground dates, and overall, the contestants here seem more committed than some of their counterparts on other shows to actually making their relationships work. (Case in point: All of the couples from Season 3 wound up married.)

As an added bonus, our hosts—actors Camila Queiroz and Klebber Toledo, who are married in real life—are delightfully charismatic.

At the same time, there were some aspects that felt lacking. Sexism pervades pretty much every branch of this show’s televised universe, but this is the only Love Is Blind edition I am aware of in which a group of men decided to howl off their balconies once they’d had sex. (Shout-out to Maria from Season 3 for calling that nonsense out and forbidding her partner from participating.) In addition, some of the show’s conflicts, which tend to occur off-screen, can become a little hard to follow, while other dust-ups get the instant replay treatment over, and over, and over again.

For Love Is Blind die-hards, Love Is Blind: Brazil would be a must-watch. Casual viewers, however, might prefer to skip it.

Love Is Blind (U.S.)

It’s only fair that the iteration that started it all ranks highly—although it is simultaneously telling that it is not seated in the top spot. Netflix released Love Is Blind in early 2020, an eerie preview of dating’s quarantined near-future. Love Is Blind was a novel project, a less-batshit take on Married at First Sight. Marrying someone you’ve never met or seen before is egregious, but agreeing to get engaged? Now that’s the kind of drama that feels less icky to get invested in.

That’s especially true when the drama is so good. While which pairs make it to the finish line isn’t predetermined, the casting for Love Is Blind is excellent across the board; even singles who never make it out of the pods can offer some chaotically funny one-liners. The show introduced us to some unforgettable reality show stars from the jump—like much-maligned Jessica, who thirsted after Amber’s fiancé, Barnett, despite being engaged to (the way younger, as she oft-reminded us) Mark. Season 3, meanwhile, made everyone choose a side in the battle between fiancés Zanab and Cole, both of whom alleged emotional abuse from the other. The smoking gun? A conversation about how many cuties is too many cuties.

The love triangles, relationship struggles, and volume of alcohol only continued to escalate from there across the show’s five seasons, introducing us to personalities so large that it’s likely you’ve seen a former Love Is Blind star on another reality competition show or listened to them on a popular podcast.

But for as much fun as it is to watch the American Love Is Blind cast as they fall into instantly doomed relationships, recent behind-the-scenes revelations have cast a shadow on the amusement. Past contestants have alleged that producers stood by the sidelines as they were sexually assaulted, intimidated, or traumatized during their experience; multiple cast members have filed lawsuits against production companies Kinetic Content and Delirium TV. It’s unclear how this will affect the show going forward, beyond just limiting the amount of alcohol that goes into those gilded stemless glasses everyone’s always drinking from.

There’s one other big knock against the U.S. version: Its hosts, Vanessa Lachey and Nick Lachey, are utter, unwatchable garbage. Thankfully, they make themselves mostly scarce. But when the Lacheys do rear their heads, whether it’s during the uncomfortable reunion shows or awkward After the Altar specials, fans have come to expect that infuriating, manipulative, dismissive chaos will follow.

Love Is Blind: Japan

One of Netflix’s best reality shows was the slice-of-life, Real World-like Terrace House. While the show ended in 2020 for upsetting reasons, fans will recall the Japanese series fondly for its refreshingly slow-paced look at budding romance. Its heir apparent is Love Is Blind: Japan, a series best defined as the anti-Love Is Blind. But this gorgeously shot, earnest little show should prove any skeptics wrong: Yes, it’s possible to mine juicy drama out of love affairs without everyone drunkenly screaming at each other.

Love Is Blind: Japan stands apart from its cohort as a unique, fascinating, and no less engaging take on the so-called dating experiment’s formula. Japanese cultural practices discourage the kinds of keyed-up outbursts that are old hat on Western reality shows, leading to our characters talking through more relatable, grounded concerns.

Reflecting upon their clashing personalities—which culminates in a fight over some leftover hair in the drain—Mori and Minami mutually agree to break up. Nana and Yudai have trouble reconciling their nine-year age gap, especially when Yudai admits he misled her about his desire to have kids. Instead of sticking around with someone wrong for her, Nana leaves the honeymoon trip early. Most shockingly is what happens to Nanako and Odacchi, who have a strong, exuberant connection in the pods. But once they meet in real life, Odacchi’s refusal to engage leaves Nanako feeling isolated. They part ways quickly, with Nanako demonstrating the self-respect that very few reality show contestants ever do.

In each case, the couples had the same conclusion about their Love Is Blind experiences: They had no regrets.

All of this speaks to what really makes Love Is Blind: Japan the best entry in the franchise—it doesn’t feel like it’s part of the franchise. It borrows the premise and applies it to a culture unlike that of the other entries, and in so doing, it creates something that feels less voyeuristic and manipulative, more earnest and illuminating. But this show is not fun just to watch as a little quirk; it does genuinely show the trials and tribulations of real relationships, in a way that dating shows rarely do. The conversations that these cast members have are recognizable while still entertaining; the situations are heightened, but their reactions aren’t. The show treats these people like human beings, not dolls to be played with for our amusement—and thus, we empathize with them and their smaller-scale, but no less meaningful, interpersonal dramas more than we would on the other shows.

Sadly, perhaps this is why Love Is Blind: Japan never received a second season. This is not a show with night vision-shot sex scenes, shocking cheating scandals, or resentful exes popping up to create post-pod drama. But the lack of all of this is exactly what makes Japan such a worthwhile watch in the dating show sphere.