Have you watched the latest series of the BBC TV reality show The Traitors? Tim Armitage talks about why he feels this programme demonstrates the relevance of drama and theatre in mainstream media.

At the start to the new year, drama lessons have been invigorated by the popularity of The Traitors season 3, which really puts drama practice and theatre elements back on the entertainment map. It is like the whole country is enjoying a lesson in drama via the guided role-play game Mafia/Werewolf, with Claudia Winkleman as host (or drama teacher), the traitors in the role of mafia or werewolves, and the faithful in the role of villagers.
The programme has been set in a lavish Scottish Macbeth-like castle, with incredible costume and props that the BBC have at their disposal, with the occasional mission and twist added for good measure.
The whole premise of the show is based on delicious dramatic irony; the audience know from the outset who the traitors are, but the other characters/participants of course do not. This puts the audience in a superior position, where they are able to enjoy the duplicity and Machievellian scheming; like an Elizabethan tragedy we can observe the deceitful body language and facial expressions in close up. The nature of the game allows for either traitors or faithfuls to win, depending on the banishment process. As an audience we observe the whisperings and eye rolls in corridors and clandestine meetings in corners of the castle. Ultimately, for a traitor to win, they must uphold the Machievellian qualities of cruelty, manipulation and selfishness to maintain power.
In the second season of The Traitors, the programme makers added a masterstroke of dramatic irony and a coup de theatre by including a mother and son whose relationship was hidden from the rest of the company. So, when the traitors decided to murder the clever and outspoken Diane, the writers chose for her to die in an iconic manner via a poisoned chalice, straight out of Shakespeare's Hamlet or Webster's White Devil. This stroke of genius then set into motion a revenge tragedy where Ross set about avenging his mother's death. He was banished by the faithful before achieving his aim, but not before he revealed his true identity as Diane's son.
From drawing on the ingredients of Elizabethan and Jacobean revenge tragedy the programme makers contrived to make a thrilling entertainment. The success of this programme hinged on the essence of a vintage drama game and the key theatrical ingredient of tragedy – surely further validation of drama's relevance in the curriculum.