Despite the fact that his monumental faux pas has been eclipsed by the entire nation of Russia, Juan Pablo is still trying to do damage control over his anti-gay comments a couple of weeks ago. He and his team initially elected to go with “Remarks Were Taken Out of Context” (Reputation Recovery and Restoration Plan 6A), but JP has since switched tacks and opted to disseminate RRR Plan 4G, or “It Was A Misunderstanding,” supplemented by riders iii–“I have a cousin who is gay”–and iiv, which involves citing poor English skills. Maybe now this thorny issue can finally be laid to rest, and JP can continue failing to respond to accusations of his being a moron, a deadbeat, and a misogynist.
Also, Clare says they did not have sex during their 4 AM tryst in the sea. Sure, but only because Camila reads TV Guide. She also shares her epistemological insight into whether there is any distinction between going to third base in the ocean versus in the swimming pool at his suite.
In other critical Bachelor news, everyone get out your bingo cards for the Official Juan Pablo Daughter Word Count. It’s up to 84 leading into tonight’s show, with 13 this past episode alone!
Tonight the eight remaining ladies will experience angst, anxiety, and inconsistent rulings over acceptable kissing in New Zealand. With his typical concise profundity, JP exclaims “ai yi yi” as he contemplates the task of choosing a wife by means of a process generally employed by people in the Arby’s drive-though.
The gals squeal as they investigate their deluxe accommodations down under. But who gets the first date matters more than a breathtaking view and an infinity-edge pool, at least to the people not picking up the tab. It’s Andi! There’s apparently no tradtional music stereotypically associated with NZ, so a plucky guitar tune of vague origins is heard as Cassandra and Renee commiserate over the need to connect with a guy who commits to their kids as well as to them and their breasts. Can JP learn to invoke the word “stepson” constantly, too?
Andi and JP go off on a forebodingly overcast day, riding a speedboat that eliminates all her work on her hair. He has planned another adventurous date wherein she has to trust him. She can certainly count on him to be a jerk as a date planner. They will go swimming so that first, we can see their half-naked bodies, and second, he can make her follow him into an area called The Squeeze, with steep, sheer rock faces that grow increasingly narrower and more daunting to negotiate. The light is disappearing in the shadows as the cameraman curses. JP must help her through the crevices, which she likes. Some high-powered attorney she is.
They finally reach an open area and he guides her to a beautiful waterfall where the water is hot, hee hee. There they proceed to start making out, which, in all fairness, is about all you can do under a waterfall. Maybe it’s okay for Camila to see this during daylight hours? He can tell her he’s practicing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on Andi.
There’s very little time devoted to getting to know one another on these Fear Factor dates, which largely demand the participants’ concentrate on not dying. JP’s swimsuit does sag enough in back for us to see the plumber’s eye-view. That’s certainly a conversation starter. That evening is more social, though. All snuggled up, they drink wine and watch a geyser of steam rise in the distance. It’s probably just Clare back at the hotel, thinking about the two of them together. Andi finds it romantic and not at all hair-frizzing to have the water misting all over them and their dinner table. He makes a mental note that she likes getting soaked. The janitorial crew is just bitter.
Meanwhile, a group date is announced that does not include Clare. She’s pleased to have another one-on-one, and likely another chance to paw JP in a foreign body of water.
Andi and JP embrace before the spouting geysers, which is in no way comically Freudian. She says she can’t wait to have a family, and he squeezes her nose, possibly assessing whether it’s original. Then he gives her the rose. They’re both very happy about the future, especially JP, since his includes making out with some more girls before the week is out.
The group date meets on a field with gorgeous scenery, sheep in the background and JP in the foreground. They picnic in the wind, then he and one of the blonds go off and taunt some cows. The whole gaggle then goes in their bathing suits to roll down a hill in these giant, clear inflatable balls. “I just rolled down a hill in a large ball with Juan Pablo,” rapturously shrieks one girl, who evidently leads a pretty mundane life. After emerging from the ball in a spray of water, another worries that she hasn’t had much time alone with JP, which is true if you don’t count the period they just spent together inside a giant ball rolling down a hill.
In the evening, they go to Hobbiton, the set of Lord of the Rings, for dinner. They laugh as they recall riding in the balls earlier that day, since that passes for witty repartee with this crowd. Then JP asks Renee to go off with him. She tells him this was one of the best days of her entire life, suggesting that riding down a hill in a giant inflatable ball with some inarticulate man candy beats the day her son was born. They kiss somewhat chastely, then take a moonlit selfie in which he appears insane. Renee seems like a decent, stable person. Surely she can do better than JP. Like maybe a paroled felon or Chris Christie.
Then he goes off with Nikki. Once again, she has trouble meeting his gaze while telling him how scared she is of her own emotions. He nods agreeably while waiting for a pause in which he can jam his tongue down her throat, probably as much for the enjoyment as to shut her piehole. Sharleen is next to go with him; they start trading saliva immediately following the courtesies. Then she asks him how he thinks she’s feeling right now. He has no idea what she’s talking about when she says the process is inorganic for her, and just manfully insists she make out with him without questioning it. He’s deep that way.
Now Cassandra. She tells JP how he’s opened her up to love. He basks in her compliments, at least the ones he understands. They don’t kiss, though. Things that make you go “hmmm.”
At rose presentation time, JP is in a quandary, and not because he was trying to balance his checkbook. He gives the rose to Sharleen because her tongue was the most athletic. Everyone else is variously irate or despairing. Then he asks to speak to Cassandra privately. He tells her she’s one of the “special ones.” She can see trouble coming when he tells her she’s gorgeous and nice, but they are not “in the same chapter.” He thinks “chapter” means “level of frantic urgency where getting horizontal is concerned.” She needs to go home and see her son, he tells her, and should not wait until he declines her a rose later. Then he watches her leave in the rain, like a Randy Van Warmer song, only tackier.
The rest of the girls pretend to be surprised when he returns by himself. “At the end of the day,” he tells them with his usual eloquent incisiveness, “it’s the future.”
Next day, he and Clare are going to have a picnic on some rocks, also not metaphoric in re: their relationship. He expresses concern at her concern over Oceangate. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, she explains. I’m confident that was not the issue. He insists he has never before indicated to Camila in any way that he has a sex life. It must have been quite an eye-opener for her when he agreed to be paid to have two dozen nubile women ogle his half-naked body as they vie for his affections on national TV. Having made their peace, he and Clare go at it again where the close-ups offer Camila some interesting angles to observe.
It meant a lot to Clare that JP apologized for what happened in Vietnam, which admittedly is more than Jane Fonda has done. They go to dinner in front of a roaring fire and keep on discussing it until everyone is bored beyond comprehension. Clare uses another term JP has no understanding of, reinforcing his plan to wave away his homophobia scandal by insisting simple English eludes him. “I like listening to you,” he says, gazing at her silent cleavage. He brings her some sweats to change into, which she wears with a tiny tank top. I guess he’s not the sonnet-reading type. He hands over the rose, a moment which is followed by an orgy of hair-tossing, face-stroking, and neck-fondling rivaling that at your average horse show.
JP strides purposefully outside the next day to fulfill his contractual obligation to the New Zealand Tourism Board, and discuss how he will make the right decision among the many lovely tongues. He and Chris marvel at there being just six pairs of breasts left to feel up after tonight. Chris listens raptly as JP explains why he canned Cassandra prematurely, which basically boils down to his being incapable of remembering a girl’s name with that many letters in it. The gals go off to the pre-Rose Ceremony gathering, where Renee looks serene and Sharleen appears grim. He calls Nikki away, or wait, is it Chelsie? Whoever she is, she wants a happy ending. For now, she must be satisfied with some tongue. I hope he scrapes that thing.
Now Renee gets alone-time. All these people talk about is how they feel about being there and what they think of their chances with JP. It’s like a job interview for a position with no pay or benefits. I bet Sharleen’s LinkedIn profile has a lot of endorsements for her tongue skills.
Next Chelsie (okay, that was Nikki before; I should’ve been able to tell by the whining) goes off with him. She feels frazzled, another word he doesn’t know, and I’m surprised she does. He needs a glossary, which is appropriate for Tongue Man. He seems decidedly underwhelmed with her. “You’re here for a reason,” he reassures her, although I suspect that at this point, the reason is an iron-bound contract. Alone with Kat next, he learns that last night she was journaling about her feelings. Surely he doesn’t know that word, but he’s probably given up on anyone who doesn’t speak in monosyllables. Kat’s dad was not there for her, she explains. We know JP is there as a dad. As to how he is as a boyfriend, the jury is still out. But they’re laughing hysterically.
And now the gals file in for the Rose Ceremony. Chris greets them somberly, calling it a pivotal week toward finding love. Yes, remember the scene where Heathcliff and Catherine rode down a hill in a giant inflatable ball? Nikki gets the first rose, then a relieved Renee, and the final rose goes to Chelsie, because vacuity wins the day. Kat looks resentful. As the limo rides through the NZ night, she bemoans that JP did not recognize the advantages of a B cup.
Sharleen is confused. She’s happy to be there, but still, it seems wrong somehow and she feels guilty. She’s complex, or has a complex. She will give it another week, she declares tearfully, and if she thinks she cannot be herself with JP, or she sprains her tongue, whichever comes first, she will leave. Next week also, Nikki acts like a bitch, other girls cry, and JP bows his head wearily in a darkened room like JFK pondering the Cuban Missile Crisis, only without the brains, insight, or public speaking skills.
