On a dimly lit street in the East Village, under the glow of a red neon sign, Alan Cumming is orchestrating what looks to be a coup. Before him, eight cloaked figures huddle, listening to his hushed instructions. Their hooded heads follow his gesturing hands and bob in agreement while their long, green robes sway in the early March wind. They’re ready, it seems, to ambush the unsuspecting patrons just inside. Theatrics like this are exactly what I’d expect from Alan, a man who’s thrown reality contestants into coffins and hoisted them up in birdcages, but seeing The Traitors host in the flesh brings a new level of excitement for me and the rest of the faithful viewers here to watch the season-three finale.
Inside, the lounge is a traitor’s oasis. The lights are turned all the way down — apart from some red lamps casting an ominous glow and silver candelabras holding battery-powered candle sticks stationed around the bar. It’s the perfect level of visibility for skulking and scheming and swindling. It is actually too damn dark in there, so I can’t see the names, but themed drinks are flowing at the bar, sugar cookies painted with daggers are scattered around, and the Blair Waldorf–meets–Parvati Shallow headbands we saw contestant Britney Haynes wearing all season dot the crowd.
I spy a special VIP section, with Susan Sarandon, in a chic black long-sleeve and matching fiddler hat, perched in the front row. She’s apparently a longtime fan of the show, later introducing herself to Pilot Pete of Bachelor fame and the Traitors season-two losers’ circle to pepper him with questions about his time on set. (Pilot Pete doesn’t seem to recognize her: “Oh, yeah, you look familiar,” I hear him say ambivalently.) Behind Sarandon, Siobhán McSweeney, the actress who played Sister Michael on Derry Girls, laughs with a friend while wearing a black-and-red leather coat and sipping a drink. In the corner, near coat check, the smiliest Faithful to ever appear in the Traitors castle, Dylan Efron emerges with a crew from Peacock. On sight, I have the same physiological reaction as I do when I see a puppy — the urge to give him a Beggin’ strip and put him in my pocket. By the way, he smelled just fine, as in there was no aroma wafting from him at all!
From left: From top:
Now, having closely analyzed the Traitors cast’s outfits each week, I take it upon myself to ask Efron, who is wearing a dark green, short-sleeve button-up, about his favorite shoe to wear in the castle. “I went for comfortable. Like some of the people were wearing very uncomfortable outfits,” he says, adding that his footwear of choice was a classic Birkenstock. “I went between very cozy sweaters and then outdoorsy, like the stuff I love to wear when I camp.” Nearby, Lord Ivar Mountbatten saunters around in some variation of what he wore all season: khaki pants, a white button-up, and a blazer. He describes his style of dress as “traditional.” Shocking answer from a royal. “I’m a classic English gentleman!” he adds. Later, Dolores Catania appears and takes a seat beside Ivar. Her hair is blown out into long, luscious chocolate curls. You’d think based on the attendance of a select few members of the cast, I’d have had some inclination as to who had actually won the thing, but nope. I just thought to myself, Aw, that’s sweet they could all make it out tonight. Not a deductive reasoning skill in sight.
A hush falls over the crowd and, at the doorway, the hooded figures I’d seen outside the bar wade into the establishment in a single-file line, like sinister school girls from Madeline. When they reach the stage, one of them rips their hood off and reveals themselves to be Alan, who tonight is wearing a printed suit, a funky riff on Carrie Bradshaw’s famous Galliano newspaper dress. Alan recites some niceties into the microphone, thanking the stars among the crowd, thanking Peacock, thanking his stylist, Sam Spector (who, by the way, also styles Alan’s dog, Lala, for each episode: “We make custom looks for her,” he told me, noting she now gets stopped in the street by fans). To quote the host of The Traitors, “time for talk is over” and finally, we watch an hour of pure, unadulterated backstabbing onscreen.
Within minutes, Danielle Reyes, the prominent villain of this season, is voted off by her sister Traitor, Britney, and the crowd erupts into earsplitting cheers. It seems everyone here too was tired of the bobbleheaded hats she wore this season. The rest of the episode unfolds: Dylan correctly hypothesizes something onscreen, we adoringly hoot and holler in the club, look his way and pat him on the back; Ivar states the obvious, we hoot and holler and snidely giggle and laugh while Alan mocks him lovingly; Dolores finally decides to cast a vote correctly, we hoot and holler and bow down in her direction. The crowd cheers for outfits they love: Gabby Windey’s tight black dress and statement silver necklace and Dylan’s dapper tan suit (out of respect for Britney’s difficult predicament this episode, I won’t speak ill of her prom dress).
There is plenty of hootenanny for the scenes of Gabby delivering a breathy “yeah …”, giggles at Ivar peeking from out behind a curtain suspiciously, claps in response to the careful showcasing of Alan’s breakfast-parlor strut. I wish the editors of this show could be here to admire their stellar work! This episode is a Golden Corral all-you-can-eat buffet and the crowd is my midwestern family of four just absolutely eating it up.
At the episode’s conclusion, a round of applause shakes Club Cumming. We’ve watched the student (Dylan) surpass the master (Boston Rob), celebrities dangle precariously from a helicopter, and most importantly, Alan jokingly telling Ivar to “shut the fuck up” when the latter mentioned The Traitors U.K. while onstage. It’s a win-win-win for everyone. Season-one winner Cirie Fields embraces and snaps a photo with Sarandon, my boyfriend tells Dylan his performance this season was akin to that of an athlete’s, and Alan brusquely waves me off when I try to chat as he speeds away to lead the “Happy Birthday” song for someone in the audience.
As Dolores said “we aren’t leaving with money, we’re leaving here with friendship.” Even though I left the bar with neither the first nor the latter, it was still the ride of a lifetime. Thanks for reading my weekly recaps this year. I’ll miss all 16 of you who faithfully did so. See you next season!
