Hello, and welcome to part two of a special series on SATA.
This series will be discussing Dutch series De Alleskunner and its derivatives. It will be in many (5? -- we’ll find out together) parts to be released over the next few months.
PART 2: WHY I THINK DE ALLESKUNNER IS REALLY GOOD
- The premise of De Alleskunner is to find one winner from 100 candidates. De Alleskunner means “the allrounder” – literally “the one who can do everything”. Like any Battle Royale, almost everyone will lose. The winner, however, will be so impressive – the one person who can do it all, the one person does the best out of 100. And to get this winner, we’re going to run 99 games, the most possible, and so eliminate the cast one-by-one. This will make DA the best test of all-round skill, the best gameshow there can be.
- In Season 1 of DA there WERE games that you would put on your list of all-rounder-ness. There was climbing, running, general knowledge, driving, paintball, hammering in a nail. But of course, that’s not 100 things, and there’s no point testing similar skills again and again: that's boring. So many of the games – most, in fact – were strange little “silly” things.
- To give just one example – there’s a game in season 4 of re-threading a drawstring into a pair of jogging shorts. That’s an infuriatingly difficult task – so fiddly in fact, that if I were faced with it in real life, I’d probably just abandon the trousers. Having to do it is tedious. But having to do it on De Alleskunner!? Suddenly you’re thinking: is it better to get a leader thread in with a needle? Is it better to scrunch up the trousers, to go bit-by-bit, or try to do a lot at once?
To the player, to the fan, there’s this puzzle – there’s an important decision. And yet to the new, casual viewer, it’s a competition to thread a drawstring – how ridiculous! Playing with this edge, creating this space where over-analysis and surrealism can mingle, is the magic of DA’s games.
- As the seasons have gone by, DA has understood more and more how to hit that sweet spot.
The second joke of De Alleskunner follows close behind: It’s cheap. Like the first, this is a consequence of the premise: We have 100 players and (spoiler alert) we’ve blown most of the budget on accommodation for them, and on the venue and crew for such a long shoot. So the set, the décor, the props, all have to be unnaturally, awkwardly cheap.
These factors create a sense of unpretentiousness. De Alleskunner isn’t laughing at itself – it’s laughing at those who dare to pretend that television is swish, shiny and expensive. That things always work and the perfect shot is always there.
Probably the third joke of De Alleskunner is an obvious one: the prideful fall.
This one isn’t original – it’s the same joke that has kept The Apprentice in business for 15 years. But regardless, it is reliable humour to see a bunch of people line up in the start-of-series montage, declare themselves the best at absolutely everything, and then (with 99% reliability) get spectacularly proven wrong. And failure usually really does require you to be quite notably bad at something – with so many players, there’s a lot of margin for error before you’re gone. There will be a lot of people who are quite bad at each game who aren’t eliminated.
There’s a certain wholesome flavour to this joke resulting from the surreal nature of the games. “Ha, you thought you could do everything, but you were in fact rubbish at deflating an air mattress” isn’t exactly the character assassination you might see Alan Sugar or Anne Robinson dishing out. Although often snarky (we’ll revisit that momentarily), everyone who leaves De Alleskunner leaves on a definitive beat, on their own legs, and being applauded by their 99 new friends.
The fourth joke of De Alleskunner is… the jokes. The disembodied voice is snarky – the catchphrases are “jullie zijn met 94 - maar niet voor lang meer” -- “there are 94 of you – but not for much longer” and to the departing loser: “tot noit meer!” – effectively “see you never!”, and these turn up over and over.
Most contestants are also dismissed with a jibe at the nature of their failure: “Bob, step by step it became clear that you aren’t De Alleskunner - tot noit meer!” to the loser of a game about balancing on a step. You get the idea. The voice itself is a parody of a “PA voice”, overly nasal and bouncy
This provides some lightness, but also some concession (and connection) to the audience, who might be feeling a bit distant from proceedings. The goading serves a reminder that this is sport, this is for your entertainment – not just some televised holiday camp. The constant use of catchphrases helps ease the audience through a very repetitive cycle of admin as each contestant is dismissed and the next game is announced.
In addition to these four jokes, De Alleskunner is a great, fun, rollercoaster ride. It goes up and down, from silly, light and fun, to moments of intense pressure, vulnerability, fear and failure.
The players of DA care about surviving every single round – and most of the rounds are structured to find, challenge, spotlight those who are the weakest in that particular area. (I’ll revisit this point in a future post).
I said this in part one but it bears repeating - losing
doesn't just mean Not Being Able To Do Everything And So Not Being De
Alleskunner, losing means leaving a crazy fun experience, the chance to play
90 more exciting new games, and saying goodbye to your newfound friends. (And,
if you care about it, being mocked and shamed on national TV.) This stuff matters.
Consequently, when you watch DA, you are watching -- every few minutes – fully grown adults flail, grasp, struggle, and despair. That’s drama! Real drama, real stress, anguish and disappointment.
And now we’re on to another section of VO and another game. This one’s about stacking toilet paper!
High and low. Light and dark. Happy and funny and scary and sad. This is why I love De Alleskunner
To be continued…