God Never Spoke, Only Beast: The Biblical Desperation of Beast Games

Televised game shows were always an anomaly to me. To purposely give away thousands of unmarked bills to one’s skill set or at the mercy of chance just doesn’t make sense. Your choice of Plinkos, Bingos and Lingos could shower hefty winnings. Spin the wheel! Press your luck! Guess the answer! Spell it correctly! Whatever the rules, all you’ll need to do is play. Easy enough, you say? Well, to quote the pinstripe-suited Benny from Fallout: New Vegas, “The game was rigged from the beginning.”

We see how blatantly fixed every “30 minute-to-win-it” series can get with every used car salesman host, uninterrupted edits in camerawork and monkey wrench plot twists thrown in the gears that would make any Hollywood cliffhanger bite its nails. It’s like mental gambling on a tube screen slot machine. Maybe in this episode, the Jenkins family will win the big money, only to be met with disheartening groans from the crowd and a “better luck next time” side jab. We can’t possibly keep falling for it… can we? When YouTube’s deranged Willy Wonka, Jimmy “MrBeast” Donaldson, promised 1,000 contestants the opportunity to win 5 MILLION DOLLARS, it looks like America’s population stepped on the gold-plated bear trap once again. So join me as I sit down in a crowded theatre of disqualified contestants as we boggle at the multi-fixed dangling-key spectacle that is Beast Games.

Rushing from downtown Salt Lake City through the rush hour density to The District in South Jordan, I knew my tardiness was bound to happen. However, the generosity of Devin Youngblood, co-host of The Youngbloods podcast and “Contestant 486” on Beast Games, made the viewing party welcoming. “I think it’ll show the emotional connection that people have,” Youngblood says. “People don’t understand — once you get on reality television, the bonds you form with people so quickly feels like Stockholm syndrome. The people I had around me were my family.” Youngblood was one of 2,000 contestants who withstood break-neck challenges and tortuous endeavors for their shot at winning (you ready for this?)… 5 million dollars! Now, a grand prize like that was almost unfathomable, but the physical stack that sat in the center of the “Beast City” internment camp was only the tip. Underneath that capitalist shrine was what sounded like a production paper shredder. “The Amazon budget was 100 million dollars to film the whole [series], but MrBeast was still giving away a slew of prizes,” Youngblood says. “He gave away a Ferrari, an island, all that stuff!”

So with actual millions on the line, could the show pull the viewership? Well, sitting down a complementary goody bag of popcorn and Feastables candy bars supplied by Youngblood himself, I would say the show itself is mild for how high the stakes are. Every second felt snippy and quickly clipped, like they edited the whole show through TikTok. The massive scale alone with the sheer number of people and Squid Game-inspired set pieces is so daunting on the retinas. I understand why high-functioning ADHD children love this show, because you can’t focus on one single thing without it jump-cutting to the next chain of flashy nonsense. Plus, the soulless expressions from Donaldson and his conniving group of crony yes-men feels so scripted — not including the many back stabs that most of these random contestants are willing to pull off to snag the big bucks. 5 million dollars is a lot of clams… or judicial pay-offs. I’m just waiting for the episode where it comes down to 10 contestants locked in a room with a loaded revolver, as MrBeast comes over an Intercom saying, “Your teammates will have to decide who’s moving forward.” It’s maniacal as hell!

As much as I want to pick and prod at the show for its “realness,” the most important aspect comes from the booted contestants and how much fun they had. While viewing, you could hear people laughing hysterically at every scene, reminiscing on the good times. It’s almost heartwarming that even though they acknowledge how fake the show was through mental health screenings and last-minute intermissions from producers (when challenges were a little too easy), these people had so much damn fun participating. So to MrBeast, don’t take my impression personally. You got your money’s worth, as did I… or at least I got my pocketful of chocolate bar contraband’s worth. 

P.S. MrBeast, since you’re known for just handing out fat stacks, you know who to contact.

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