The requirements were to be strong-willed, adventurous, adaptable to new environments and able to cope under tense competitive pressure.
This Star Tribune reporter didn’t even survive the audition for ‘Survivor’
After a few hours in line at the Minneapolis Convention Center, he bailed. But hundreds of others who stuck it out never got to audition for the reality TV show.
It didn’t say anything about an ability to wait in line.
Which is why you won’t see me as a future contestant in the venerable reality TV show “Survivor.”
When CBS and local affiliate WCCO announced an open casting call, my editor thought it might make an interesting story. The auditions were scheduled during the Twin Cities Auto show, for 4 to 9 p.m. on April 4 at the Minneapolis Convention Center.
I admit I wasn’t the best candidate. I’ve never watched the show and only had a dim idea of how it worked. But newspaper reporters have to be adaptable, which is also a desired trait for a “Survivor” contestant: “Adaptable to new environments.”
The show is looking for people with “interesting lifestyles, backgrounds and personalities.” So, I was sure I was the most interesting person they were likely to find. I mean, how many people have ridden an elephant in a circus parade, submerged in a one-man submarine, driven the Wienermobile and won the Wisconsin Wife-Carrying Championship?
I was feeling pretty confident when I rolled up to the Convention Center at about 4:15, figuring I’d be one of the first hopefuls there. Wrong. There already was a line of hundreds of people, winding the length of convention hall and out the door.
I reluctantly got in the back of the line, which rapidly grew behind me, and started sizing up the competition.
Two people in front of me were rehearsing their pitches. I assumed they were friends, but Collin Kern and Madison Hulett were strangers who’d just bonded over their mutual love of “Survivor.”
Kern, a 25-year-old wedding DJ from Minneapolis, hasn’t booked any gigs during next season’s filming of the show — just in case. He also admitted he’d started wearing earrings again, to give himself a more interesting vibe.
Turns out Kern had tried to be on “Survivor” before.
In 2019, he went to an open audition, waited 90 minutes, then got to “talk to the camera for one minute. It was kind of underwhelming,” he said.
Afterwards, he went to Taco Bell. “That was the best part,” he said. (In his defense, he was going to Luther College in Decorah, Iowa, where there was no Taco Bell.)
While Kern said open auditions are publicity stunts to stoke interest in the show (anyone can submit an online audition from home), he thought he might get points for coming in person. He even had a Taco Bell taco, which he was planning to eat during his audition. Besides, he said, “I didn’t have anything else planned to do, so why not chill here?”
For her part, Hulett, a 26-year-old Blaine resident, was there “for the adventure, the experience. I bring a sort of grit,” she explained. (Actually, she was hoping to get on “The Amazing Race,” but hasn’t seen a casting call for that.)
But Zach Opatz, another hopeful, was all-in on “Survivor.” “I’ve watched pretty much every season of ‘Survivor.’ It’s like the best show ever.” His selling point? “I’m great at puzzles,” the 29-year-old Ramsey resident said.
Paulina Poehlman, a 25-year-old from Minneapolis who likes obstacle courses, hoped that her “sparkle” would make her stand out.
Kern told me he’s been disappointed by “Survivor” contestants who quit when the going gets tough. So, I felt kind of bad when I gave up after an hour and a half.
I called him later to see how his audition went. Kern didn’t seem to mind that he’d spent another couple of hours waiting, saying: “I think there was a general camaraderie in the line.”
At about 8:45 p.m., just as he was getting close to the cameras, a WCCO employee announced that auditions were over. Kern and the other 200 or so people behind him in line were politely dismissed.
“There was a collective, ‘Are you kidding me?’ ” Kern said. Still, he and a few others hung around for bit — just in case. Finally, a WCCO employee took out his cellphone and took a video of Kern, promising to forward it to his bosses.
That’s when Kern finally ate his taco. “That’s the way I signaled I was done,” he said.
Lefse-wrapped Swedish wontons, a soothing bowl of rice porridge and a gravy-laden commercial filled our week with comfort and warmth.