Temptation Island continues to stage toxic love The normalization of possession on live TV

Every summer, as predictable as mosquitos and catchy songs, Temptation Island makes its return. A successful format that continues to dominate ratings, over 30% audience share, and that, despite its trashy tones and apparent superficiality, offers a cruel but revealing mirror of what we still consider normal in romantic relationships in Italy. Unlike what we see in modern cinema and TV series, where there’s an increasing effort toward deconstructing toxic and dysfunctional love narratives (think of the evolution of Sex and the City and its reboot And Just Like That, which tries, however imperfectly, to tell more conscious relationship stories), Temptation Island sticks to a narrative structure that seems to belong to another era.

Temptation Island, a pattern that repeats itself

In every season, the implicit script is more or less the same: he, seemingly vulnerable to the advances of the tempters, immediately gives in to temptation. She, hurt and humiliated, cries and despairs, but then, too often, forgives. The pattern is so repeated it feels like a dramatic formula. And it works. But there’s something more disturbing beneath the surface. Men, when shown videos of betrayal or perceived disrespect, often react with explosive anger: smashing objects, throwing chairs, yelling, storming out. Women, on the other hand, internalize: they blame themselves, question everything, cry, and retreat into the confession room. Two opposite reactions to the same emotion: disappointment. But only one of the two is potentially dangerous.

Is jealousy love?

One of the most problematic and recurring themes is the obsessive jealousy of boyfriends towards their partners: forbidding them to go out alone, imposing limits on how they dress, demanding “respect” that actually masks a need for control. These behaviors are often portrayed as signs of intense love, as if a partner who doesn’t want you all to themselves doesn’t love you enough. In reality, these are clear signs of a toxic relationship. Possessiveness, fear of abandonment, and control over someone’s body and time are never love. They’re forms of emotional domination. Yet, in the show's editing, these behaviors are rarely challenged.

Sonia and Alessio: a case in point

The lawyer couple from the 2025 edition, Sonia and Alessio, are yet another iteration of this pattern. He, the subject of countless memes for his manipulative behavior and statements, says extremely harsh things about his partner. And yet, during the final bonfire confrontation, she’s the one who wants to talk. Despite her initial clarity, fear of being alone and insecurity about their age difference - she’s older, he’s younger - seem to take over. If the roles were reversed, the narrative tone would certainly shift. But we still live in a society where a woman’s age matters, a man’s does not.

Objectification and sexualization

The context in which these dynamics unfold is carefully crafted: two separate villas, dozens of tempters and temptresses, sculpted bodies, flirty glances, and camera angles designed to stimulate the viewer’s erotic imagination. The women are filmed in bikinis playing volleyball in circles, like a show straight out of the early 2000s. While the men are also sexualized, they’re treated differently: more often involved in emotional chats, confessions, "emotional support." Not that male tempters are immune to objectification, but the quality of the interactions is different. Women are valued for their bodies; men, for their words (however cliché they may be). The girlfriends seek someone to talk to. The boyfriends seek physical attention. The implicit message is clear: men desire, women share.

Toxic relationships and cultural representation

So the question arises: is Temptation Island just empty entertainment, or a sociocultural indicator? Probably both. Because while it claims to offer a “journey through emotions” that often devolves into borderline emotional performances, it also continues to build and reinforce harmful narratives around what a relationship should look like. At a time when we’re finally talking about sex and emotional education, consent culture, and equality in relationships, this show still promotes the exact opposite. Men who can’t manage their emotions. Women who tolerate too much. A production that turns it all into entertainment.

Why do we love Temptation Island so much?

Because it’s comforting in its predictability. Because it gives us a chance to judge others without questioning ourselves. Because we can laugh, mock, share memes, and shut off critical thinking. And maybe because, deep down, these dynamics feel familiar. We’ve seen them, lived them, maybe even normalized them. Watching Temptation Island with awareness doesn’t mean not watching it. It means recognizing its episodes as a reflection of an emotionally immature culture — and starting, at least, to question it.