The Celebrity Traitors has been so good it might have ruined telly for me

I’m getting a bit concerned that The Celebrity Traitors– which will soon dramatically conclude over a steaming hot bowl of fire on a patio – is going to ruin me for the regular civilian Traitors. Will it be like filling up on bread before a meal and having no appetite for the main course? 

I mean, how can regular Joes compete with Joe Marler – a man with a head like an Etruscan urn who emanates such jovial sweetness that he makes even Stephen Fry look like a conniving, craven bastard? Surely it would take some kind of supercharged combo of Linda (S3) and Diane (S2) to even get close to the wise-owl charm and farty breeziness of Celia Imrie.

And say what you like about Alan and Jonathan, but boy, can they put on a show. Last week, Alan’s red-faced attempts to murder a faithful in plain sight by crowbarring the phrase “parting is such sweet sorrow” into the conversation were so funny that I almost did a Celia myself.

Read more:

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• The Traitors winner Harry Clark: ‘I wish I hadn’t signed an NDA’
• Claudia Winkleman on Rose Ayling-Ellis, representation and the role of TV

The Celebrity Traitors really has been magnificent. Well done to whoever assembled this particular bunch, from the most beloved household names in the UK to people who make you shrug and say “Who?” They put in some excellent teamwork, even though they couldn’t spot a traitor if they wore their cloaks around the house. But that didn’t really matter, because the game wasn’t as important as delivering good old-fashioned entertainment – which is what they were paid to do.

Yes, they were surprised at how well they got along and how much they loved each other (however briefly) but at the end of the day, it’s showbiz. You sign up, endure a couple of weeks in the Inverness Travelodge, and then you’re onto the next thing – eating spiders on I’m A Celebrity…, or interviewing Robert De Niro on a sofa. Job done, profile raised, winnings gifted to charity, national treasure status assured.

The civvies though, are in it to win it. They’re not winking to camera or using an idle moment to tell a joke. They need the money to clear debts or buy a new house or set up their own businesses. There’s fire in their bellies and scheming thoughts under their traitorous hoods. For them, it’s not just a game show – it’s serious business, and probably the biggest opportunity they’ll ever have in their lives.

Their ability to entertain comes second to their need to wade through some grim ooze to get a shield, and most of them are about as memorable as your last Uber driver. Here’s a challenge: name one other person apart from Linda and Frankie from the last series. Earlier this year I spent more time looking at their faces than my own family, but I’ve drawn a complete blank.

So have we been spoiled by the celebs? Will the next series flop like Claudia’s fringe in a light drizzle? Or will we all seamlessly transition from Alan Carr having a conversation with a rubber replica of his own head, to watching some randoms mumbling to each other in the back of a Range Rover? 

Well, the jury’s out, but I’ll stay faithful, just in case. You never know, there might be a really evil marketing manager from Rochdale who will win our hearts for a few weeks before vanishing into the mist like that raven they hire to make everything look more ominous.

Or an annoying woman with a purple stripe in her hair who knits frogs and is a genius at secret murdering. Or a postman called Ken who becomes a meme the minute he opens his mouth.

Here’s hoping anyway, otherwise I might have to hang up my cloak and switch off. 

Lucy Sweet is a freelance journalist.

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