With 21 seasons in just five years, you would think that “Love is Blind” has to be one of the most intriguing, compelling, and creative reality shows to have ever hit the Netflix top 10 charts. Spoiler alert: it’s not even close to that.
When just skimming the premise, the initial hype is understandable. A group of men and women group up and go on dates to find “the one”, but here’s the catch: they don’t see each other until they get engaged. They talk to each other through “pods” (rooms separated by a thing barrier where contestants sit on either side) and get to know one another without ever seeing each other. Once they get engaged, they finally meet in real life, go on a trial honeymoon, move in together, meet each other’s families, and hopefully get married.
On paper, this sounds like a cute and romantic show, but it gets old fast when you realize you’re just watching a bunch of people with the same marital goals go on awkward dates and then realize they either do or don’t like how each other looks physically. And you’d be surprised how many of these couples claim to “not care about looks” and then break it off with their partner because they don’t feel a “physical connection.” Or maybe you wouldn’t.
Even worse, if you’re showing up for the breakup drama, don’t hold your breath. Since the camera crew is only there half the time, the majority of the breakups don’t even make it on screen.
Now, to be fair, every once in a while, “Love is Blind” does produce an iconic season. Season 6, for example, is exactly what a good season of reality TV should look like: Timeless secret relationships, cheating scandals, amazing one-liners, and an extremely memorable cast. That’s what I want when I watch reality. Not a bland relationship with no drama. The least a show like this should do is make me “aww.”
According to the show itself, love isn’t even blind. Only 27 out of the 120 couples are still together. What about the other 93 couples who have probably now dealt with substantial trauma and heartbreak? Not only are you putting yourself on the line emotionally with the person you are getting engaged to, but you’re also exposing yourself to millions of people online to judge you and your relationship.
And yet, as much as I complain, when Season 327 inevitably drops a few years from now, I’ll be sitting on the couch, popcorn in one hand and remote in the other, binging a bunch of mid relationships as they start to flourish and then die before episode four. Maybe it is boring, but it’s exactly what I need when I want to sit with my friends and hate-watch a show.
