The Color Purple
A redemption story concludes this ongoing series on Survivor's return from hiatus.
For the last few months, I’ve been watching the most recent season of Survivor. The finale aired on December 15th, and now that it’s finished and some time has passed to ruminate on the result, I want to talk about the newest winner.
But before I do so, I want to tell you a story. So please, bear with me.
The Story of Purple Kelly
Once upon a time (June 2010), there was an ambitious young woman named Kelly who was recruited to compete in a televised competition. The 20-year-old former homecoming queen had just completed her second year of pre-med classes, and in her off time, she enjoyed adrenaline-pumping activities like wakeboarding and go-kart racing. When asked to describe herself in three words, she chose “vivacious”, “confident”, and “outspoken”. She had bleach blonde hair, an infectious smile, and a sort of "girl next door” charm to her. From her perspective, appearing in front of a national audience simply seemed like another adventure to embrace. For the casting directors, all evidence indicated that she’d be a natural in front of the camera.
Before heading out to film the show, interviewers requested that Kelly send a few photographs featuring outfits she might wear in real-world situations – to a nightclub or to run errands, for example. When asked to show off an “interview outfit”, she picked a short yellow sundress. Ultimately, the dress ended up being the very garment the producers advised that she wear on television. After having the tips of her hair dyed purple to differentiate her from another Kelly on the cast, she was ready and eager to film. Upon arriving on location, everyone was instructed to start calling her “Purple Kelly” to avoid any confusion.
Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Purple Kelly, this wardrobe choice would seal her fate in reality TV history. What she did not realize is that the show she’d be appearing on was Survivor, and that she’d be spending the next few weeks in the Nicaraguan wilderness with nothing but the thin yellow dress and a skimpy pink bikini.
Torrential rains poured down, reducing the once lively girl into little more than a huddling mass. Day after day, fellow contestants encouraged her to “suck it up” and “tough it out”. But after a full month of suffering – about 70% of the way through filming – Purple Kelly met her wit’s end and informed host Jeff Probst that she was calling it quits. Whatever minor fame might have resulted from her television debut simply wasn’t worth the physical suffering involved. This decision was, naturally, met with disgust and revulsion, despite the fact that Kelly had very little say in the circumstances that led her to leave. When Survivor: Nicaragua aired in the fall, the student was crestfallen to find that she had been essentially scrubbed away from the show altogether. Over the course of the first six episodes, she was not featured speaking a single time. Viewers learned nothing about her, and any trace of what defined the young woman was erased entirely.
While the majority of viewers barely registered her presence at all, a few took note of just how much the camera turned a blind eye to Kelly. Pretty soon, diehard fans dubbed a term to describe what was happening – a “purple” edit, christened after Kelly’s trademark purple hair.
Purple Kelly is not the first or only person to subject themself to relentless camera crews only to wind up with a purple edit months later. For instance, Whitney Duncan and Keith Tollefson of Survivor: South Pacific likely got very little screen time due to the fact that they struck up an extramarital affair on the island. Carter Williams of Survivor: Philippines and Brett Clouser of Survivor: Samoa were overshadowed by much more charismatic castmates. Sometimes, a player gets left on the cutting room floor simply because their actions don’t significantly impact the story being told.
Why am I talking about all of this? Because when Erika Casupanan was introduced to America at the start of Survivor 41, it seemed she was destined to become another Kelly. About three and a half hours of screentime passed before she even made a significant appearance in episode four. She even had purple hair.
So, when Erika went on to win her season almost unanimously (she received 7/8, or 87.5%, of jury votes), many casual viewers were left both confused and disappointed. “People are so desperate for a female winner they are hyping her up, but I’m not seeing anything noteworthy. I think she’s pretty mediocre,” one Redditor stated shortly before the finale aired. “Erika is the least deserving #survivor winner I can remember, was a benchwarmer for half the game,” a Twitter user shouted into the void.
But what makes a winner deserving? And furthermore, what evidence has there been that Erika’s performance was explicitly UNworthy of receiving a cash prize?
For most people, the argument against Erika roots back to the fact that we saw so little of her over the course of the season. Xander and Deshawn, the two finalists that ultimately sat beside her, each received a total of 56 confessionals. Erika received just 39, a third of which occurred during the finale. Surely, if there was more evidence to logically illustrate Erika as a competent winner – or even a compelling person – the people stitching together the footage would include that information. Right?
Well, not quite.
What happened to Erika?
Let’s debunk a few arguments a person might make to justify the lack of attention on Erika.
Erika wasn’t especially relevant to the overarching ‘plot’ of the season.When interpreting ‘plot’ in its most literal sense, this argument quickly falls apart considering that Erika is ultimately crowned the victor.
Erika wasn’t especially relevant considering the ‘themes’ of the season.Even “low brow” entertainment (like reality television) usually has some deeper themes in play – it just makes for more compelling television. It doesn’t exactly take an expert analyst to identify that the primary motif pushed by Survivor 41 was progress. New twists and a shorter format promised a season mechanically unlike its predecessors. Starting with the removal of “guys” from Jeff’s lexicon at the premiere, the show made clear its intention to be ahead of the competition philosophically as well. The strongest case for Erika’s omission likely lies here, considering her gameplay was subdued, less flashy than producers probably would have liked. She is not the first woman to make it to the end by understating her threat level and lying low. That said, she was the only person able to make use of the game’s oft-hyped advantages1. She was also the fourth WOC in the franchise’s history to emerge victorious, which you’d think producers would be anxious to hone in on considering the extensive conversations on race featured throughout Survivor 41. I’ll come back to this in a bit, but I don’t want to get too sidetracked.
Erika didn’t form significant relationships (positive or negative) with the other castmates.Naturally, if other players spend a lot of time talking about you, you’re more likely to be featured on the show. At the Final Tribal Council, Ricard made a few comments suggesting that Erika may not have formed too many close relationships. If true, it might explain why she wasn’t featured much in the first half of the season. The only problem is that we know for a fact that there were people that felt strongly about her – it’s just that any of the supporting details that explain the facts were deemed not important enough to make it to the final cut by some team of editors.
For instance, we can be reasonably sure that Heather and Erika have a tight-knit friendship. They vote together, they’re always seen on the beach together, and their actions imply that they respect and care about each other. It’s clear as day that the two of them had a major hand in dictating the outcome of the end-game votes. Even so, we receive absolutely zero context concerning what they even like about their partner. Conversely, there’s a season-long seemingly one-sided rivalry between Deshawn and Erika. He is intent on voting her out because he views her as “smart” and “sneaky”. However, outside of a small segment in episode 4, we don’t actually learn anything concerning why Deshawn thinks she’s a direct threat.Erika does not provide a unique ‘voice’ – someone else on the cast covers the same points in a way that’s more compelling.Sometimes, when two people have similar experiences/commentary, a character is left with the short end of the stick to avoid being redundant. For instance, Ricard (a decent narrator) is often overshadowed by Shan (an excellent narrator) when detailing the events going on at the Ua tribe. But who, exactly, goes through an experience similar to Erika? The best candidate would likely be Heather, who is practically invisible.
Even if we work with the unlikely scenario that Erika lacked a single original thought, she still stands out because her perspective as a Filipino immigrant is one that’s been virtually unexplored despite two decades on air and 600+ castaways. I believe that Gabby Pascuzzi (S37) and Jenny Guzon Bae (S13) are the only Filipinos outside of Erika to be featured on the show at all (despite the fact that four seasons of the show have been filmed in the Philippines and that Filipino Americans make up 1.2% of the US population). Surely her experiences learning how to assimilate and succeed in a Western world brings something to the table that’s worth discussing for more than a few seconds in episode 62.Erika could not effectively explain her actions/intentions to the audience.Sometimes people freeze in front of the camera. In other cases, cast recruits unfamiliar with the show’s history struggle to articulate the finer details of their experience. Neither of these things seems to be the case for Erika. Her final tribal council speech was undeniable proof that she knows how to speak her mind. On multiple occasions, she has mentioned being a Survivor “superfan”, which further rules out the possibility that she was unfamiliar with game mechanics. To think that she found her way to the end by chance or didn’t know what she was talking about is an insult.
I could keep going on indefinitely, but I’m sure you understand what I’m trying to say. No matter how you slice it, there’s no arguing that Erika isn’t a compelling individual or a major contributing factor to the events that take place. So what’s the deal?
New Survivor, Same Old Problems
In many ways, Survivor 41 succeeded in its goal of bringing something fresh and thought-provoking. At times, it felt forced (I am so glad that I never have to hear Jeff tell me to “drop the 40, keep the 1!” in an attempt to convince me that the game has reached a new era). But there were moments – like Liana’s speech on navigating the black experience at the end of episode 11 – that were poignant and felt authentic. It’s easy to get cynical and write off a lot of the “wokeness” this season as little more than virtue signaling. I’m sure that some of it is. But at the same time, the imperfect vessel that is Survivor serves as a conduit that introduces real outlooks and issues to average viewers in a way that’s approachable and generally non-confrontational. A person previously puzzled by the concept of nonbinary gender may very well become more accepting when there’s a friendly face like Evvie’s to humanize the concept.
That is why it’s extremely disappointing to see the series stumble over an issue it has bungled time and time again. As much as the show has outwardly pushed itself in a more progressive direction, it did so at the cost of “purpling” Erika. What’s more, she’s just the latest in a decades-long history of under-edited marginalized winners. Twitter user Rob’s Fact Checker drafted up the following graph illustrating past winner representation, which I feel really puts the issue in perspective3:
When everything is all laid out, it’s clear to see that there’s a huge discrepancy between the amount of screen time the average male winner receives and the screen time the average female winner receives. There are always outliers - Kim Spradlin thrived on a cast largely full of duds, and Bob Crowley likely didn’t make too many appearances because he was a creepy old man. But even when a woman is granted an above-average amount of time to speak, it’s never anywhere remotely close to the attention a Boston Rob or Tony Vlachos would get.
The same can be said for POC that succeed in Survivor. Statistically speaking, they just don’t get the same level of focus when compared to their white counterparts.
Small bits and pieces here and there clued us to the qualities that differentiate Erika. She always made the effort to greet and chat with Jeff Probst at the start and conclusion of whatever sadistic challenge up he had up his sleeve. During her time on Exile Island, she maintained a positive attitude despite openly being at the absolute bottom of the social totem pole. By all means, these snippets suggest that she’s an individual easy to root for.
But how can that be expected when most casual viewers likely didn’t know her name for the first half of the journey? What chance did Erika ever have of escaping criticism when, by design, she was hardly afforded the chance to speak at all?
Persevering Past Purple
Ironically, now that the show is said and done, we have a luxury we were largely deprived of while watching – the voice of Erika Casupanan herself. I’d be remiss if I wrote this without including the following statement she made in a Parade.com post-game interview.
Translation? Erika always knew that she would be underestimated by everyone. It was never a sneaking suspicion – it’s an inevitability she’s faced through every facet of her life. She’s aware that the edit did her dirty, that the choices made by the production team were merely an extension of being underestimated by the world. It is flashier, more exciting to believe that every obstacle conveniently shot itself in the foot or fell victim to hubris rather than the more likely scenario of a thousand moments of quiet persuasion culminating in an overwhelming win for Erika. Just as her castmates underestimated her power, so too did the editors, and in turn, so too does her audience. It’s nothing new.
It’s comfortable to believe that a radical diversity initiative is enough to immediately make things better for everyone. It would be really nice if omitting a certain word from our vocabulary or alluding to some pressing issue was enough to trigger a cataclysmic change to oppressive systems. But the truth is uglier than that. Significant, large-scale shifts move at glacial speed because even as the attitudes of individual players evolve, there are forces at play greater than any one person.
That’s not to say that change is impossible, or that trying to improve is futile – I am not that pessimistic. Survivor’s longevity makes it easy to spot some of the societal shifts that we now take for granted. Go back and listen to the way Rob Mariano speaks about his gay castmate in one of the earliest seasons of the franchise. Compare that to the season 41 finale, in which Xander is moved to tears when he learns that Ricard and his husband are expecting a second child. It’s not that there weren’t any Xanders 20 years ago, nor is it the case that we’re free of Boston Robs today. But, even though it’s difficult to pinpoint where exactly it happened, the powers splicing together footage designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator determined that the lowest common denominator would rather hear from the Xanders of the world than the Boston Robs.
All the same, the day has not yet come where Erika can expect to compete on an equal playing field. As much as it tried to this season, Survivor can’t change our glaring faults. No matter how much Jeff Probst screams about entering a “new era” of the show, it’s ultimately not up to him to decide when the rest of the world decides to change – even in the confines of his own microcosm. All the show can do is record the attitudes prevalent in the players (and in us) at a very specific moment in time.
In that same Parade interview I cited earlier, Erika acknowledges that she was well aware of the show’s trend of booting Asian women early in the game because they’re historically not seen as being “physical players” or useful contributors. Their hardships can be harder to spot because they’re less likely to reside in easily identifiable ugly words. Rather, the hardship often lies in not being seen or heard at all.
Despite everything stacked against her, Erika was able to succeed – spectacularly so – by being aware of (and even playing into) the preconceived notions of her peers. In a separate post-game interview with tvline.com, she admits to making her “body language really small, so I wouldn’t be seen”. The decision to wear her hair in ponytails was a calculated one, intended to make her appear more like a child without agency. Simultaneously, she took note of and mobilized the people most vulnerable, left out in the same way that she was left out. The impressionable college kid, the stay-at-home mom that consistently struggled with island life. The person strongest at challenges, sentenced to death for being a great competitor. Away from the cacophony of microphones and lights, she softly coerced everything to play out in her favor.
She has found pride in these muted actions. Ultimately, she proved all that she felt she needed to prove.
I know the logic may seem backward. But through embracing her “weaknesses”, by gathering a coalition of non-threats, by working quietly, Erika ultimately secured her spot as one of the strongest, most unanimous winners in the show’s history. Even if not all viewers can appreciate the outcome today, it’s a satisfying, strangely fitting way to wrap up a season filled with noise. Despite the formidable obstacles she faced by virtue of being herself, the underdog managed to triumph.
And perhaps because of that groundwork, the next Erika to show up won’t be so purple.
If you recall, the three extra votes (Deshawn, Xander, and Shan/JD), three hidden immunities (Naseer, Shan, and Xander), the “shot in the dark” (Sydney), and the “knowledge is power” (Liana) advantages all ended up being canceled out or unsuccessfully utilized. Erika, on the other hand, made the correct choice to “turn back time” in episode 7 for which she deserves credit (even if the advantage was grossly overpowered).
I went back and she’s actually granted a whopping 89 seconds (starting at around the 27-minute mark) to speak about her experiences and background. Looking back on what she says and how much her identity (as a person constantly being underestimated, having to work harder for things, feeling like an outsider, etc) is tied to her strategy and gameplay, it is truly mindblowing that less than a minute and a half (out of roughly 11 hours of footage) is devoted to this topic.
The methodology of the percentages is as follows: Suppose you have a total of 200 confessionals among 20 contestants in a full season of Survivor. If the confessionals were divided equally among each castaway, each person would speak 10 times. Of course, they are not divided that way for a variety of reasons. But using that average, we can determine whether a contestant was statistically under or over-edited compared to their peers. Assuming 10 is the average number, a contestant 100% over-edited would receive 20 confessionals. A contestant -50% under-edited would receive 5.