It transcended the "reality" label. To say that "Survivor" was a "reality show" is like saying "Twin Peaks" was a show about pie. "Survivor" was as over-the-top dramatic and bitchy as a nighttime soap. It was as nastily funny as an episode of "Seinfeld." It was a suspenseful and splendidly plotted game show, filled with the sort of strategy and subterfuge you don't see on, you know, "Wheel of Fortune." It was a hokey fiesta of bad behavior, hubris and canned pathos, perfect for watching in large groups and for hurling snarky remarks at the screen -- it was the equivalent of the Academy Awards every week! "Survivor" was plain old good television. Compare its panoramic vistas and no-holds-barred intrigue with the unwatchable "Big Brother" and its bunch of simpletons locked up in an ugly house, sharing their frickin' feelings every night. Yes, "Survivor" wrote a new rule into the TV programmers' handbook: It's hard to go wrong with back stabbing, bug eating and a haughty, naked gay guy.

On the downside, look what "Survivor" hath wrought. Tantalized by the show's stratospheric ratings (the Aug. 16 episode drew 28.7 million viewers, while the other five networks drew 20.7 million viewers combined), the networks are signing up every "Survivor"-inspired reality/game show in sight. ABC has "The Mole" in production (contestants undertake a series of cross-country tasks while trying to root out the imposter in their midst), and has also bought the U.S. rights to "Jailbreak," a series in development for Britain's Channel 5, in which contestants will be incarcerated in a specially designed prison and must brave psychological and physical challenges in an attempt to bust out. NBC is all hopped up about "Chains of Love," from the same Dutch production company that gave us "Big Brother"; a contestant is handcuffed day and night to four potential romantic partners, who will be jettisoned one by one until the contestant finds Mr./Ms. Right. And Court TV has just announced a new reality show called "Confessions," which shows convicted criminals' actual videotaped confessions.

To those who despise "Survivor" for its alleged freak show appeal, I ask you: Doesn't "Confessions" sound 100 times freakier than anything "Survivor" brought into our living rooms? Sure, network programmers will load up on shock and titillation in their quest to outwit, outplay and outlast "Survivor." What they don't understand is that the key to "Survivor" was its relative restraint. The show hinged on the castaways' personalities, on the intricate, civilized savagery of group dynamics and on individuals' abilities to correctly read their competitors. It was a Jane Austen novel with monitor lizards.

"Survivor" was more compelling than 90 percent of what passes for network dramas. The show was deliciously unpredictable. Usually on a prime-time drama, you know when a major character is about to be killed off or written out of the show because you've been reading about the star's intentions to move on for months beforehand. Very rarely is a prime-time episodic drama able to surprise you with sudden, irreversible changes.

But "Survivor" had a beautiful dynamic going -- in effect, a major character got killed off in every episode. And it was nearly impossible to predict who it was going to be. Oh, sure, you could make an educated guess, especially after the tribes merged and the Tagi alliance started picking off the former Pagongers one by one. But then there were always those immunity challenges to trip you up. "Survivor" was like that episode of "The Sopranos" in which Richie Aprile got whacked by Janice at the dinner table. He never saw it coming, and neither did we.

And that "anything can happen" element is addictive. After a summer of "Survivor," are viewers going to be able to get back into the familiar snoozy rhythms of network prime-time programming? CBS has been using "Survivor" as a billboard to hype its new fall shows. And judging from the commercials, those worn-out premises -- Craig Nelson as a tough police chief! Bette Midler as Bette Midler! Tim Daly as Harrison Ford in a remake of "The Fugitive"! -- look dangerously yawnworthy. "Tim Daly is the ultimate survivor!" shouts the "Fugitive" promo. I don't think so.

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