Editor’s note: The Elite Eight polls have closed. Check back on Friday to vote in the championship!
Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at the Elite Eight, and boy, is the competition fierce.
This is a bracket of traitors in which Fredo Corleone—a guy we published an essay about, explaining how he came to define modern traitordom—went down in the Sweet 16. Fellow 2-seed Saruman of The Lord of the Rings? Gone. Even Peter Pettigrew, one of the slimiest traitors across both film and literature—the bracket’s sole delegate of one of the most popular media franchises ever—couldn’t make it past the third round. Perhaps that’s because his competition was [checks notes] Cain from the Bible.
The champions of the regional finals who move on to the Final Four will be truly deserving of that title. I don’t envy the voters here. How is one meant to choose between Brutus and Scar? They’re both infamous king killers (essentially, in Brutus’s case). Backstabbers of the highest degree. On that note, playtime may be over for Brutus. He’s had a relatively easy run to the Elite Eight, dispatching Gossip Girl’s Dan Humphrey and Real Madrid turncoat Luís Figo with, at minimum, 91 percent of the vote. Then he convincingly handled Game of Thrones’ Littlefinger in the last round. And don’t get me wrong: Littlefinger has real betrayal bona fides, but, ultimately, he’s a tertiary traitor in a series full of them. Now the Roman assassin is taking on a primary antagonist with serious nostalgia value. It ain’t exactly the Ides of March, but Brutus should beware, anyway. Ol’ Fredo that we were just talking about? Yeah—Scar did that.
The story of Brutus and Scar is basically the story of this Elite Eight: historical infamy vs. pop culture notoriety. Which will voters prioritize? On one side: Brutus, Judas, Benedict Arnold, Cain. On the other: Scar, Cypher, Walder Frey, Anakin Skywalker. All won their Sweet 16 matchups rather decisively. So will it come down to the figures who have defined the very term “traitor” or the figures who have defined our collective experience with traitors? I really cannot wait to find out.
Since we’re covering both the Elite Eight and Final Four today, the timing will be a little different. Voting on the Elite Eight is open now, and you can vote here or on Instagram until 1 p.m. ET. The Final Four will launch at 2 p.m. ET, and voting will be open until 6 p.m. ET. —Aric Jenkins
More From Traitors Week
The Backstabbers Region
(1) Brutus vs. (3) Scar, The Lion King
Brutus
What do you say when someone betrays you? “Et tu, Brute?” right? Well, meet Brute. Stabbed Julius Caesar, his friend and mentor, to death in the Roman Senate. Was probably trying to save Roman democracy from the rise of a tyrant; may have slightly miscalculated, as his actions led directly to the fall of the republic and the rise of the Roman Empire. Good job, good effort. Literally messed up so hard at work that a thousand years later, Dante put him at the center of the ninth circle of hell. —Brian Phillips
Scar
When it comes to betrayal, fratricide is a classic. So classic that The Lion King is loosely based on Shakespeare’s Hamlet. But Hamlet didn’t have adolescent Simba’s sad little Disney eyes, nor Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s trembling little voice when Scar—a trusted male authority figure!—told Simba that his father’s death was his fault. That if it weren’t for him, Mufasa would still be alive. That he should run away and never return. Lying to his nephew for personal gain. How could you, Scar? How could you? A traitor of the highest degree. —Jodi Walker
The Sellouts Region
(1) Judas, the New Testament vs. (2) Cypher, The Matrix
Judas
If Jesus Christ Superstar is to be believed, Judas was the most anguished traitor of all time. He slimed out Jesus for an infuriatingly paltry sum, and in an annoyingly cutesy way. The butterfly effect of his betrayal is immeasurable: For one, I blame him for every bitchy tweet from JD Vance. His name is synonymous with betrayal, and by this measure, he’s peerless. —Justin Charity
Cypher
Look, life after the Machine War isn’t easy. The sky is scorched, the grub is gross, and dance parties aside, there’s a distinct lack of creature comforts. I understand the desire to forget one’s troubles, and maybe Morpheus bears some blame for freeing Cypher’s mind when he was over the age limit (just like the Jedi do for training a too-old Anakin). But missing the taste of steak and having an unrequited crush on Trinity are no excuses for selling out humanity and murdering Dozer, Apoc, and Switch in cold blood. Goddamn you, Cypher! —Ben Lindbergh
The Turncoats Region
(1) Benedict Arnold vs. (3) Walder Frey, Game of Thrones
Benedict Arnold
What more needs to be said? An entire nation turned my guy’s name into a synonym. All Benedict needed to do was stay loyal for another year or so, and he would have gone down as a national hero. There’d be towns and monuments and federal buildings named after him—the man who won Saratoga and convinced the French to join! Instead, he couldn’t handle getting passed over for a promotion a couple of times. Grow up, buddy; it happens to the best of us. —Jenkins
Walder Frey
The “Late” Walder Frey might be the biggest scumbag in Game of Thrones, which is saying something. He’s a slob, he collects young wives, and, oh, he traitorously serves the Stark family up to the Lannisters. Alas, after the Red Wedding, Frey gets his comeuppance at the hands of Arya Stark. But not before he helps orchestrate the most shocking betrayal in recent pop culture history. —Alan Siegel
The Defectors Region
(1) Anakin Skywalker, Star Wars vs. (2) Cain, the Old Testament
Anakin Skywalker
It was said that it was said that Anakin would destroy the Sith, not join them; bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness. And sure, he arguably got around to doing some destroying and balancing, eventually. (At least until, somehow, Palpatine returned.) But he sure took a roundabout route. Anakin killed his wife and dueled his brother, and no possible point of view—or allowances for his harsh upbringing—could justify what he did to those younglings. Mace Windu and Palpatine accused each other of being traitors, but the biggest traitor was standing right next to them. —Lindbergh
Cain
A pioneer in treachery, obviously. You cannot brutally betray your own brother—or murder anyone, really—without paying homage to the OG. Several millennia of copycats and also-rans have yet to improve on the grim eloquence of: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” —Charity
