Deep within the Bulgarian wilderness, a considerable distance from the nearest signs of civilisation, the end of May brought an unexpected challenge. Three hours out from Sofia airport, in a landscape seemingly untouched by modernity, I found myself participating in a daring new Channel 4 television experiment. The show, ambitiously billed as “the real-life Hunger Games,” is titled The Hunt: Prey versus Predator. It’s a high-stakes, dog-eat-dog contest that plunges 12 participants into the rugged outdoors for an extended game of cat and mouse. On the battlefield, contestants must rely on their skills, stamina, and quick thinking. However, back at base camp, their most potent weapon is their charm. Having now watched the initial three episodes since its launch on Channel 4, it’s clear that what appears on screen is merely a glimpse into the show’s true intensity.
After just an hour of gameplay, it became glaringly obvious that a fortnight spent playing adult hide-and-seek in the woods, pursued by bloodthirsty rivals vying for a £100,000 prize, was not a challenge I was cut out for. Arriving in Bulgaria after days of relentless downpour, I’d left the comfort of my cosy flat with minimal information about what the day would entail. The torrential rain and a stern warning that my running trainers and shorts were woefully inadequate for what lay ahead set the tone. I was informed that the following morning, I would be transported to a secret location to experience a game called “The Drop,” one of the many challenges contestants face. Here, I would be the “prey,” hunted by a “predator,” to see how I would fare.
A New Breed of Reality Television
In the landscape of reality television, The Hunt: Prey versus Predator emerges as a refreshing departure from the trend set by shows like The Traitors. While The Traitors undeniably revitalised the genre with its blend of betrayal, paranoia, and hushed confessions, the subsequent years have seen a deluge of imitations, each attempting to replicate its success with similar ingredients. Few, if any, have come close to matching its impact, and the constant cycle of failed attempts has become increasingly wearying. The Hunt, however, carves out its own niche, harking back to an era before reality TV was solely defined by dramatic whispers in shadowy corners and grand, atmospheric settings. It feels like a genuine attempt to forge a new path.
The “Prey” Experience: A Taste of the Chase
The anticipation of what awaited me was a mix of curiosity and growing unease. Would I be ejected from a plane? Hurled off a bridge? The possibilities, as they swirled in my mind, became increasingly terrifying. Thankfully, I was assured that no skydiving or high-altitude plunges were on the agenda, allowing me to rest easy knowing the day’s most significant challenge wouldn’t involve a parachute.
Following a rather nauseating drive along Bulgaria’s winding roads, we arrived at what appeared to be a military base. From there, I was swiftly taken to wardrobe, where I was outfitted in a get-up resembling a Power Ranger, albeit without the powers. A tablet was strapped to my arm, accompanied by a bright blue padded bib. Initially, I assumed this was for protection, but I was soon informed it would offer absolutely no defence. A rather uninspiring revelation. My role was clear: I was the prey, engaged in a game of cat-and-mouse. The objective was to evade the “predators” – identifiable by their red bibs – while attempting to locate and complete a challenge to win a sum of money, all before being captured.
As someone with five godchildren, I consider myself reasonably adept at hide-and-seek, perhaps taking it more seriously than any adult should. However, this was a different league, and I harboured doubts about my qualifications.
My fellow “prey” and I were then transported in a four-by-four vehicle. The journey was a precarious slide across swampy, muddy terrain, a landscape heavily impacted by weeks of relentless storms. If this robust machine struggled to navigate such tumultuous ground, my own chances seemed slim indeed.
“The Glade” and “The Drop”
Eventually, we reached our destination: “The Glade.” This area was marked by a circle of podiums where we stood in silence, sizing up the competition. The device on our arms, known as a “gauntlet,” eventually alerted us that it was time to begin. A map appeared, offering vague directions to “The Drop.” We scrambled from our podiums, each of us looking equally bewildered, and dashed as fast as our legs could carry us through the sodden ground, aiming for the ominously named game hidden within the dense forest.
In the distance, I spotted the glow of blue neon lights. This was it. And, as promised, there was no sign of a plane or an actual drop in the conventional sense. Instead, the challenge required me to stand in the centre of a constructed circle, with 16 cobalt blue rods dangling above. These rods were set to fall in a predetermined sequence. To secure £5,000, I needed to catch five of them and escape before a predator located me. On the surface, it sounded straightforward, but having witnessed the sheer frustration and despair of contestants on shows like The Cube, I knew all too well that seemingly simple games could lead to utter despondency.
POLL
Do you think you could win The Hunt: Prey vs Predator?
- Definitely, I’m a survivor
- No, it sounds way too tough
- Possibly – who knows?
As the game commenced, it looked as though I might become one of those players forever haunted by the echoing thud of perspex rods hitting the ground. At least five slipped through my grasp, if my hands even managed to get close enough, before I finally caught one, narrowly saving myself. For someone with an almost unbearable competitive streak, the pressure was unlike anything I had experienced. Suddenly, being thrown from a plane didn’t seem quite so daunting.
After this solitary moment of triumph, the rods seemed to exact their revenge. The prize money appeared to slip further from my reach until only a few remained. At this point, it became significantly easier to anticipate which rod would fall next. I managed to catch four in rapid succession, and in that moment, I felt like Rocky Balboa, conquering the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Sadly, I was merely a participant, a guinea pig, and that £4,000 remained a fantasy. Nevertheless, a win is a win.
My brief experience playing The Hunt was far more exhilarating and exhausting than I could have possibly imagined. Compared to the 12 contestants who form the inaugural series of this ambitious Channel 4 show, our time in the arena was pathetically short.
I found myself intrigued to see how the actual players would fare in the real game, with such substantial sums of money at stake and the prolonged duration of the gameplay. For the remainder of the afternoon, I sat glued to a live feed of an actual hunt. For the entire four hours, I was completely captivated. By this point, The Hunt had narrowed down to its final five players. I had absolutely no idea who they were or how they had progressed so far, but even without any prior context, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the multiple screens before me, not even for a second.
It was an extraordinary spectacle. With over 200 crew members, the production was a colossal operation requiring immense athletic fitness to manage. Every member of the production team was frantically navigating a vast and arduous landscape, as were the contestants themselves – and without the £100,000 incentive. Their driving force was the goal of creating ambitious television. The hunts stretched on for hours, with each player strategically manoeuvring across the arena. The “prey” were stealthily searching for challenges like “The Drop” to earn money, while the “predators” were hoping to intercept a contestant who stumbled into their path.
The tension was palpable. Even watching from miles away, you could hear a pin drop as we all anxiously observed new favourite, Shelley, aimlessly wandering as if she were on an entirely different programme. I feel incredibly fortunate to have witnessed The Hunt unfold live. The chase itself is genuinely exhilarating to watch. It’s a shame that viewers at home won’t be able to fully grasp the sheer scale of the forest, the gruelling duration of the hunt, and the relentless tension that simmers from the moment they aggressively launch themselves from “The Glade” until they return for safety once the chase has concluded.
If my brief stint as “prey” proved anything, it’s that The Hunt is not for the faint of heart – or for a mildly unfit journalist in questionable trainers. I survived my few minutes in the arena, but a full fortnight being pursued through the Bulgarian wilderness for £100,000? Let’s just say I’d probably be right there with Shelley, hiding behind a tree somewhere.
The Hunt: Prey vs Predator is available to watch on Channel 4.
