It's not hard to see why Netflix has chosen to follow up Squid Game: The Challenge with The Trust, a new competition series that probes the depths of human greed. Though The Trust's challenges are more of the mental and emotional variety — and theoretically, no one has to be eliminated at all, should the cast decide to split the $250,000 prize — both shows lean heavily into the social experiment genre, placing contestants in unfamiliar settings that require them to choose between their own desires and what's best for the group. Moreover, both boast incredibly diverse casts that counteract the genre's natural inclination to feature players of similar ages (typically, between 20 and 45) and backgrounds (predominantly white and privileged enough to take weeks off work to participate in the show).
While The Trust's no-elimination-necessary structure proves interesting — even if it's not quite realistic; if the contestants actually chose to go that route, the eight-episode series wouldn't exist — its distinctive cast quickly proves to be its greatest strength. Netflix has recruited people from all walks of life to participate: There's 42-year-old Brian, a rancher from Texas who hopes to use the winnings to hire a farm hand; 26-year-old marketing manager Tolú, who recalls moving from Nigeria to the United States as a child; and "Mama" Jay, a 70-year-old retiree and avid bird-watcher. Additional information emerges during the first game, with 43-year-old business coach Lindsey sharing that she left her Mormon marriage after falling in love with another man, and 22-year-old Bryce, a successful realtor, hiding this millionaire status from the group for fear of putting a target on his back.
These differing backgrounds and identities are fertile ground for drama, and the premiere reflects that fact. When Tolú's voting power is taken away — a decision Juelz, a 32-year-old police officer (though he tells the group he's a stripper), and 55-year-old single mother Simone made at random in order to add $5,000 to the trust — she interprets it as a personal slight. "I am a first-generation African female immigrant. I've had to basically claw my way out of poverty, claw my way out of alienation," she explains in a confessional interview. "It's deeper than just 'taking away your right to vote' for me. I just feel as though I've constantly had things stripped away from me. It's like the same old sh*t just keeps happening, and I cannot seem to escape it."
Tolú's frustration builds ahead of the first Trust Ceremony, during which the cast (save for the disenfranchised Tolú and Bryce) can anonymously vote someone out of the trust. She calls out the group's "rainbows and sunshine" mentality, accusing Juelz and Simone of failing to understand how their choice affected her as a Black woman. Simone is instantly apologetic — "I did not want to take anything from you. And the reason is, I could see you've had things taken from you in your life," she says — but Juelz defends their decision, insisting it was "the best that [they] could do" when faced with two bad options in the Vault.
His unfeeling response is enough to convince an alliance of women, including Tolú, Lindsey, 28-year-old Julie, who grew up poor but has since established herself as an entrepreneur, and 31-year-old bartender Winnie, that Juelz can't be trusted. Together, they vote him out of the trust, creating conflict with the men, who were under the impression that no one would be sent home, particularly 37-year-old military contractor Jake, the self-styled leader of the group.
Jake's aggressive alpha-maleness generates problems of its own. In the second episode, host Brooke Baldwin asks the players to rank themselves by smarts and leadership ability, with Jake asserting his place at the front of both lines. As a result, he's required to place his fellow competitors in order from most to least loyal, a task that culminates in him moving his buddies — Brian and 33-year-old teacher Gaspare — and himself (in second place) ahead of everyone else.
For obvious reasons, Jake's confidence rubs nearly everyone the wrong way. Now joined by Mama Jay, who felt "dismissed" by his "misogynistic" rankings, the female alliance stands united against Jake, dividing the house along gendered lines.
The Jake debacle offers no shortage of narrative angles. It sets up a dynamic where the women are driving the action and dictating the result of each Trust Ceremony, ensuring that the least exciting outcome (that players choose to continue sharing the prize) remains off the table for as long as possible. The rift also prompts a new conflict between Jake and Tolú, the loudest voice among the women, who accuses him of making unnecessary comments about her being "[his] strong African queen" and describing her and Winnie as his "chocolate sisters." Says Tolú, "It really is making me not enjoy this experience, and I'm here to enjoy myself. So, if that means that I need to take him out [of] this experience, then so be it."
But instead of leaning into the possibilities created by its diverse cast, The Trust changes tack. In Episode 3, the action coalesces around the relationship between Julie and Jake, who are brought together by their mutual attraction for one another, and seemingly little else. While Julie initially plots to use Jake's sexual interest in her to her benefit — "Usually, if there's a hot guy somewhere, I can manipulate them to do whatever I want," she says with a smile — she begins to develop real feelings for him (despite him ranking her low on the loyalty spectrum and dismissing her intelligence), and they move through the early part of the season as an unspoken unit.
When Mama Jay reveals she plans to vote someone out at the second Trust Ceremony, though she doesn't say who, Julie sticks her neck out to save Jake by casting a vote to oust Simone. The "neutralizer" move backfires — Mama Jay also voted for Simone, not Jake as Julie thought — but it solidifies the bond between the blossoming couple, even as it alienates Julie from the other women.
While there's no denying that Julie and Jake have more power together than apart, their relationship is wholly lacking in chemistry or sex appeal. It's not clear why Julie's feelings for Jake have grown, other than their near-constant physical proximity to one another; he's obviously a self-important, ex-Army bro with a hero complex who fails to understand why his behavior irks the women in the house. Jake doesn't even see Julie as a valuable ally until she spells it out for him: When she tells him she "cast a vote to protect" him, he responds with a bewildered, "Huh?"
But by the end of the first batch of episodes, they've been so involved in every conflict that they've become the drama. The Trust now hinges entirely on their lifeless, surface-level relationship, which has sucked all the air out of the room and taken focus away from the more interesting struggles of the show's nonwhite and minority contestants.
Episode 4 offers a few glimpses of the tension that exists beyond The Julie and Jake Show. Bryce's compulsive need to reveal he's a millionaire doesn't sit well with many of the women, who question whether he deserves his share of the $250,000 prize. As Baldwin explains, players who enter the Vault will also face tougher decisions as the game progresses, which proves to be the case with Brian and Julie, who are presented with a highly lucrative offer that stands to benefit them at the expense of the group in the episode's final minutes.
Viewers will have to wait a week to see how each chooses to proceed, but their decisions have the potential to make huge waves in the house and change the course of the season. If they act selfishly, it could shift The Trust's attention back to more compelling players like Tolú and Mama Jay, who have been ruthless in their gameplay. But should Brian and Julie reject the offer and do what's best for the group, it threatens to reinforce a disappointing status quo that prioritizes the white, conventionally attractive cast members, negating exactly what made the Netflix show so appealing in the first place.
New episodes of The Trust drop Wednesdays on Netflix through January 24. Join the discussion about the show in our forums.
Claire Spellberg Lustig is the Senior Editor at Primetimer and a scholar of The View. Follow her on Twitter at @c_spellberg.
TOPICS: The Trust, Netflix, Brooke Baldwin