2002-04-10 - 7:55 p.m.
Last night the Japanese version of “Survivor” started, and I am already totally hooked. It doesn’t hurt that the show is a cookie-cutter version of the American original (first season), to which I had a demonstrated addiction. It’s all the same -- the fake “tribal” music, the exotic local, the Survivor-logo uni-garment which can be worn as headband or tube top. There are small differences -- the Japanese teams were issued gloves as part of their survival kit -- which I questioned until I saw the cast members wearing them to collect firewood and scale palm trees. And of course there is an overly-excited voice-over and loads of subtitles for emphasis, both conventions of Japanese TV. They also waited until day 2 to build shelter. Did the Americans build on day one? I forget.The 2-hour premiere was highly dramatic and included lots of tears, a blood-drawing fist fight and two Tribal Councils. The cast members include a Buddhist monk, a boxer, and a restaurateur, from what I can understand. There even seems to be a version of Rudy in a wiry but feisty 56 year-old, whose teammates call him “father.”
But most interesting I think, will be how the show plays out in the context of Japanese social interactions, which differ greatly in this situation from America. In America, the basic unit of society is the individual: the autonomous, rationally thinking, perhaps community-minded but ultimately out-for-himself individual. American Survivor brought out the worst derivatives of this orientation -- back-stabbing, gossip, and deceitfulness. Even when the teams were working together to win rewards, each individual member had his or her own best interests in mind.
In Japan, the basic unit of society is the group. From nursery schools to workplaces, the Japanese organize themselves into circles from which all productivity flows. School children clean the school together in groups so that they can form bonds which will make them more supportive of each other inside the classroom. Offices all over the country hold fifteen minute staff meetings or calisthenics routines each morning as a way of uniting and focusing workers for the day ahead. On the negative side, those who do not conform to the norms and standards of their appointed group sometimes find themselves bullied by peers or superiors. The number of suicides in Japan is staggering, and many of these stem from the shame of being excluded from a group or reprimanded by a superior.
All of this makes me wonder what course the Japanese survivors will take. The goal of the game -- the day-by-day destruction of a group so that an individual can attain glory -- seems antithetical to Japanese culture as I understand it. The Tribal Councils in particular (where teams vote an unwanted member off the island) must carry a great degree of shame. I would imagine that the rejection from the group coupled with the public nature of this rejection carries greater weight here than it does in America. The Survivor game-plan, which requires its players to simultaneously work as a team while working in their own best interest against their teammates, seems like it might produce a kind of schizophrenia in the Japanese. Here, it is expected that an individual will take responsibility for himself and his inferiors in order to protect the interests of the group. (The term “head honcho” comes from the Japanese “hancho,” literally, “group head.”) Many politicians resign when a scandal emerges -- even if it only involves an assistant or deputy -- rather than disgrace their parties. A Japanese-style Tribal Council might involve a member attesting to his or her own failings and asking to be removed from the show. So many other cultural aspects -- especially the Japanese penchant for avoiding confrontation -- will make this an interesting show to watch (not that I wasn’t hooked already).
A popular native-born reality show seems more in line with Japanese norms. “Ai Nori” involves a group of young singles who travel around the world together in a pink van (presumably with an airplane ride across the oceans) with the aim of pairing off and be sent back to Japan. It works like this: During their travels (the last time I watched they were in Guatemala), the 8 or so young people get to know each other and develop crushes. Let’s say that somewhere between Cuba and Mexico, Yuki begins to like Akira. The episode will be edited to show clips of Yuki flirting with Akira, talking about Akira, Akira talking about who he likes, and any jealousy resulting from Yuki’s flirtation. When Yuki decides that she definitely DOES like Akira, so much so that she wants to be his girlfriend in Japan, she will approach him the next morning in front of the van, plane tickets in hand. As the other cast members watch from the vehicle, Yuki will tell Akira that she likes him, and say “let’s return to Japan together.” Akira must tell her yes or no right then (it’s very dramatic -- I’m getting choked up just writing about it). If he says yes, they go home to Japan to begin their life together. If he says no, poor Yuki must take her plane ticket and go home alone, while Akira continues traveling. In this case, there will soon be a new young woman to replace Yuki on the road, and the adventures continue.
My initial reactions to this were: 1) Why on EARTH would you want to go home rather than traveling all over the world in relative luxury, all-expenses paid? and 2) Compared to “Temptation Island,” this is SO tame. The root of these reactions, of course, lies in my own cultural perspective relative to Japan. In its own cultural context, the conventions of the show make sense. Yes, it’s nice to be traveling around with a van full of singles, but ultimately the opportunity to pair off, considering the intense social pressure on young people in their twenties to get married, seems like a better deal, or at least a good way to go. And with marriage in mind, the conditions of the coupling itself should be sincere. They wouldn’t want to go all the way back to Japan merely to engage a cheap lust. Or would they? I wonder what degree of sabotage goes on off cameras -- late night make-outs, deals made behind the scenes. Twenty-somethings traveling in close quarters and holding back affection until they publicly admit they “like” the other person? Seems a bit too innocent to be true, in any culture.
But of course I might have better insight if I understood the language...
