Crocodiles keep their distance from Survivor team

By FRANCES GRANT

The snapping jaws of the big crocodile, the large, venomous-looking spider and lurking snake that all look so promising in the opening credits of Survivor - The Australian Outback are a con.

Not one American got eaten in last night's double-whammy episode kicking off round two in this hit "reality" series. Which was a pity. With the formula of this survival-of-the-fittest gameshow already passe, a surprise intervention from Mother Nature wouldn't go at all astray.

But the crocs and co must know they're no match for the money-and-celebrity-seeking contestants of an American primetime TV show. Millions of years of adaptation in one of the remotest and harshest corners of the globe is obviously no preparation for the arrival of Jeff, Kimmi, Mike, Kel, Amber et al.

So despite the exotic scenery, which is exploited to the full in all the challenges, it was back to the usual ghastly fascinations of this show: marvelling at the instant antipathies that arise as soon as a group of people have to try to rub along together.

Of course the "communal interest" factor is but the thin veneer of civilisation laid over what is essentially a cut-throat, individual enterprise: knocking out all others and nailing a million bucks.

Unlike so many of its reality cousins, Survivor conceals the unnatural selection processes applied to contestants. Still, it's not hard to figure out that so many buffed and attractive bodies do not normally occur in such vast numbers in the wild.

Sure, there are one or two old folks of 50 or so such as Rodger and Maralyn, but the visual demands of television has had a definite effect on the makeup of tribes Ogakor and Kucha.

Television has other ways, too, of mutating the old laws of evolution. "I thought it boiled down to mental toughness and physical ability and none of that mattered," said a dismayed Debb, the first person to be picked off by her tribemates.

Darwin had obviously reckoned without the incentive of a million smackers and the impervious gaze of the cameras, which see right through the social white lie and false modesty, and magnify all vanities and paranoia.

The less canny contestants don't take this into their calculations, either. "Please don't let this be turned around into making me leader of the tribe," prayed a pious Mike over the fish he had provided for his hungry and grateful tribe. "I really love the guy, but ... " is the most common preface to all on-camera confessions of hate and loathing.

You can take a hit American telly show thousands of miles away from Hollywood but you can't take the therapy culture out of the show.

The Aboriginals who roamed through this land probably didn't bother setting up "confessional booths" in which upset outcasts could record their feelings.

But then these were tough people who could, according to a particularly gruesome challenge in which the contestants had to swallow traditional Aboriginal diet items without gagging, survive on such delicacies as mangrove worm and "cow brain." Cow brain?

Eat or be eaten. Just think of all those poor, innocent Australian Outback creatures - the worms, the cows - who've already given their lives. The crocs and snakes are smart to stay away.

* Survivor - The Australian Outback, TV2, 7.30 pm Tuesdays