Crazy, Stupid, Love Island
I'm lost inside the villa.
Reality television shows never grabbed me by the throat the way they have with other chronically online Zillenials. I’ve only had brief forays into the genre. The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives recently sucked me in for its chaotic two seasons and RuPaul’s Drag Race is a long-time favorite show of mine. However, dating shows never really caught my eye save for watching one season of Are You The One?
That is, until Love Island USA season seven.
I’d be lying if I said this was actually my first time turning on Love Island. Despite my brief relationship with reality television, I’ve given a couple of hours of my life to the original Love Island, a British program produced by ITV Studios, but never got very far. I didn’t even make it to the elusive Casa Amore and I was nowhere near knowing who won.
Love Island operates on a fairly simple premise. A group of single contestants, known as “islanders,” couple up in pursuit of love—and $100,000. Single islanders are vulnerable to eliminations by both the audience at home, who vote for their favorites, and their fellow contestants. Throughout the season, “bombshells,” a.k.a disrupters, join the villa to stir the pot and shake things up. Eventually, the viewers vote one couple to victory.
A key element of Love Island is that it airs on television every single night except for Wednesday. Save for Hump Day, viewers can tune in at 9 P.M. EST, clocking in like it’s a job. For the next hour to hour-and-a-half, the islanders rule the television. Nothing exists but the villa, which is located in Fiji for the show’s U.S. iteration and lit up with a slew of neon colors. Silly Hobby Lobby-esque signs sit upon the walls with phrases like “all the feels” and “spill the tea.”
Watching Love Island feels like powering down every circuit in my brain. The cells cease to function, synapses no longer form. I feel like Patrick Star with a wrench smashed on his head, drooling with a blank stare. I’m a shell of a person, a mere skin sack with a lump of useless rotting meat in between my ears.
Yet, it’s impossible to look away. Every night, often within minutes of the show premiering, I plop down on my couch and log onto Peacock. For the length of a Love Island episode, nothing else matters to me except the interpersonal drama of 10 to 20 strangers in pursuit of “connections.” It may not be thought-provoking, but the show succeeds in sucking you in, making you wonder what’s in store for the evening.
Will Nic and Olandria couple up for real this time? Does Bryan have pure intentions with Amaya? Are Pepe and Iris really forming a connection? Why is Ace running the villa like it’s Big Brother?
Because Love Island produces such an abundance of content, I find it impossible to get my mind off of anything but the show. I wake up looking forward to watching it. I go to bed reflecting upon that night’s episode. My social media feeds are flooded with inside jokes, memes, and critiques of the show and its stars. Love Island has officially taken over my basic brain functions. And I’m not sure if I’m mad about it.
As I sort-of-recently wrote, there’s a lot happening in the world. It as though everything is crumbling to pieces and I can’t do anything about it. Feeling helpless and hopeless, I’ve turned to a resource that numbs me in a way other forms of media cannot. If all art is political, Love Island is a masterpiece in its attempt to isolate itself from a world where things like art or politics exist.
Nothing about the villa is real. It is a candy-colored panopticon in which islanders are constantly mic’d up and on camera. Being on an island, the villa is quite literally separated from the real world. Without access to phones, television, or the internet, the islanders have no connection to the outside. Twitter users joked that the cast had no idea about major news events like the U.S. bombing of Iran. Islanders have no responsibilities except looking hot, talking to each other, and participating in challenges such as kissing competitions and obstacle courses. They don’t even know what time it is. Entering the villa is a pure form of escapism for both islanders and the audience watching.
Few islanders have “deep” conversations, often opting for small talk like “what’s your dream date?” or “what do you do for fun?” when they “pull” each other for “chats.” Many conversations are simply about having conversations. “Are you interested in exploring our connection?” or “are you open to other connections?” are two critical questions that contestants tend to ask each other. They come to a conclusion and then walk away, seemingly defeating the point of saying that they’re interested in strengthening the connection.
The islanders’ unnatural vocabulary feels like their own Love Island language. What American says “chat” instead of “talk?” What exactly does it mean to be “exploring” or “strengthening” a “connection?” Why must every boy in the villa come to another “as a man” when there’s conflict and why must every girl strive to be the perfect “girls’ girl?”
These meaningless talks and mostly empty connections are delicious fodder for brain rot. There’s sick and twisted fun in watching a stranger get mad at a partner they’ve been with for three days, or seeing a new couple claim they have legitimate feelings for each other after two televised conversations. Forming opinions about people on television through watching only an hour of their constantly-recorded behavior is something no one should be allowed to do. Yet, that’s exactly what I do, every single night.
Ignoring the issues plaguing our world is really fun! Turning off one’s critical thinking is an immense joy and privilege. And so, I will allow my brain cells to die slowly as I tune in for the final episodes of this season of Love Island USA. For the sake of having a functioning society, I don’t call on others to join.
As for my Love Island USA season 7 opinions?
I’m rooting for Amaya above all and, therefore, Bryan as well. Good riddance Zak, you were mean as hell to America’s sweetheart. I fear I am a Nicolandria truther for the most part. Pepe and Iris are cute but I’m skeptical of the chemistry. Justice for Hannah! I genuinely want the best for Huda and I thought Chris might be the right person to help mellow her out but based on last night’s episode, that’s not looking as likely. Chelley is alright (and beautiful) but Ace annoys me. Overall, I think this season lacks compelling characters that I want to root for and I’m eager to check out other seasons and see if I like those islanders more.