In a world where dismaying news breaks every time the president buttons his oversized suit jacket, freeing up his fingers to tweet, The Bachelorette is not excluded from incidents of stomach-churning assaults on our most cherished national traditions. Disturbing revelations arose this week of Rachel partying among a group that including a blurry man with familiar facial hair. Bachelor Nation exploded in a frenzy of resentment that she had shamelessly spoiled the ending of her own season without an ounce of regard for my six commenters’ feelings. The mob identified the bearded apparition as Peter, a front-runner for the role of choosing the gaudiest of the Neil Lane diamonds presented him.
Fortunately, respected media outlet TMZ interrupted its coverage of C-list celebrities visiting their dermatologists’ offices to put the ugly rumors to rest. According to their ace investigative reporter, and anyone with eyes in their head, the hairy guy in the video is not Peter, but merely some unknown hipster with similar hair, coloring, and vacuity in his expression.
The relief is as palpable as when we learned we can’t actually give the finger to Mother Earth because we’re committed to the Paris Agreement through 2018. Now you can enjoy a discussion of the many ways The Bachelorette has changed since its debut. Or I can save you the time, and tell you the most important one: For the first time in the series’ history, we have a black woman betraying feminism in a tawdry, cynical fashion.
We can now continue on Rachel’s journey to find love, or at least eliminate the next few worst choices of a guy to be seen in public with. Following the pre-caps, which include DeMario’s public shame and, fortunately, not a reappearance of Adam the Doll, the other men learn that DeMario has returned to confront his accuser. Rachel agrees to talk to him to ensure he can’t explain himself a second time.
He admits he didn’t keep it real with her. Keeping it fake is for those Louis Vuitton bags they sell for $15 in Chinatown. He also doesn’t want to lose Rachel. He wants to earn her trust, and also another paycheck from ABC. The other guys are understandably miffed. They worry that DeMario will talk his way back into the contest, kind of like how Ted Cruz did after that meme mocking Melania.
However, Rachel’s expression says otherwise. She’s not buying it anymore than she’d buy Chobani past its expiration date. She dispatches DeMario post-haste with a measured and acidic summation that Perry Mason wishes he’d thought of. Inside, the guys glory in their rival’s dismissal. And they say women are catty and contemptuous. Meanwhile, Jonathan comes at Rachel with a pair of giant fabric hands that Donald Trump probably already has on order. Kenny shows her pictures of his daughter, who is neither giant nor fabric, unlike Adam the Doll.
Wah-boom Guy, who appears to be drunk, is wearing an ugly plaid jacket, which appears he chose while high. Blake doesn’t approve of him slobbering all over Rachel. Wah-boom Guy tells her that Blake doesn’t like him, and relates a story about him looming over the slumbering Wah-boom Guy while eating a banana. He has to work on his flirting technique. Or maybe Blake does.
Rachel then questions Blake about Bananagate. He destroys the vicious accusations by revealing that his no-carb diet does not permit consumption of the controversial yellow fruit. Wah-boom Guy would have had more credibility if he’d accused Blake of eating a baked sweet potato.
And now the Rose Ceremony. Ominous music plays over Rachel’s introduction, in which she bemoans how difficult the ceremony is for her. Not as much as being in a Vietnamese prison, but pretty bad. The first rose goes to Bryan, then Bryce and Eric. Next Anthony receives a rose, followed by Will and Jonathan. Jack comes up next, as Whaboom Guy grows more and more nervous. Matt gets a rose, too, as do Alex and Adam. Kenny follows them, then Brady and Lee. Iggy arrives to accept his rose as Blake frets. After Fred gets a rose, one is left. Chris comes over to explicate this obvious fact. Why does he even get out of bed in the morning?
Diggy gets the rose. Wha-boom Guy and Blake despair as Chris helpfully explains to them that they’ve been axed. While their conflict has been resolved, will we ever learn the truth about the banana incident? Will no one call for an independent commission?
Outside, Blake tells Lucas off in front of the crew, then gives the viewers a pixelated finger. The two insult each other for a few precious minutes that could have been devoted to ads for cholesterol meds. Inside, the remaining contestants and Rachel celebrate what’s to come. That includes riding horses down a city street and mud-wrestling, both of which occurred on episodes of NBC’s Mystery Movie series in the 70’s.
Chris informs the guys that the coming three dates will be unique and pointless. The first group date includes Bryan, Jonathan, Peter, Alex, Will, and Eric (I think?). They’ll be appearing on Ellen DeGeneres’ show, although they either don’t know it yet or haven’t figured out that painfully obvious twist. They’re all giggly and thrilled to be there. Jonathan is concerned to learn that someone kissed Rachel already, a move that swept her off her feet. “Maybe it was a kiss on the cheek,” he conjectures anxiously. He’s suddenly realizing the big hands were not the way to go.
The guys are ordered to take off their shirts and rush into audience to entertain the women. If you behave on the subway the way these guys just did, you’d be met at the next stop by the transit police. The twerking is especially painful to watch. Not as painful as watching Jonathan try to rationalize someone else’s kiss as chaste, but pretty bad. Now they’re playing Ellen’s popular game, Never Have I Ever. It was funnier with Clooney. Several of the men have texted a nude selfie, which likely will appear online by midnight tonight. Fred admits he’s hooked up with a woman twice his age. I hope Racehel doesn’t pick him; some of us would like to meet him.
Then the truth of who has already kissed Rachel is revealed. Fred is now determined to join that exclusive group, another social faux pas that all the etiquette books, and many law enforcement officers, advise against.
At the after-party, Rachel wants to look for strong connections or whether none exists at all, perhaps because the producers were in a bad mood on that guy’s audition day. Alex tries the old “I have butterflies around you” line. He explains that her left eye looks into his left eye, which means they connect emotionally and that he clicks links to obscure blogs suggested by Facebook. Fred simply asks outright if he can kiss her, which throws her off. But it looks like he does a bang-up job. Who was that older woman, Jessica Rabbit?
But when it’s time to present the rose, Rachel asks to speak privately with Fred. She explains that she has issues overcoming her initial view of him as a pesty boy in rolled-up dungarees and sneakers with Ninja Turtle laces. She reveals she cannot, therefore, reciprocate his feelings, which might be for an underaged girl in a plaid skirt and knee socks. She walks him outside despondently. So why did she bring the rose with her? Very inefficient dumping technique.
The guys watch out the window as Fred departs, and they are pleased, the vicious bastards. The rose goes to Alex and his left eye. Rachel hopes his left hand is as effective in connecting with her.
Eric confesses to Bryan how passionate he feels about Rachel, and how frustrated he is that she doesn’t open to him. He’s genuinely upset. Maybe it’s that time of the month.
Anthony has the one-on-one date next day. When he arrives, she’s sitting on a horse and brought one for him to ride down Rodeo Drive. PETA is writing a nasty letter as we speak. It’s Anthony’s first time in the saddle, although he might have some experience with whips and bridles. They ride their mounts right into a store, where the proprietor says, “Why the long faces?” I hope they aren’t shopping for glue. Later, Anthony’s horse drops a load on some probably expensive flooring, which he hopes isn’t a metaphor for how the date went.
Rachel enjoyed the date, which showed her, um, that Anthony looks good in a cowboy hat? He tells her he grew up poor, but rich in love. She agrees that’s very nice. He’s the prosecutor, as I recall. They could star in a remake of that madcap old rom-com about opposing attorneys in love. It could be called “Adam’s Doll.” Anthony gets the rose.
At the house, Iggy grows weary of Eric’s kvetching. He asserts that he will go full-out emotional on Rachel, which Iggy suggests is a wrong move. They argue the issue over a tray of cacti styled by West Elm. Eric is clearly being set up for the “not here for the right reasons” accusation that WE JUST SAW AN HOUR AGO.
Now some ex-bachelorettes arrive to meet the guys going on the next group date. Raven, Corinne, Jasmine, and Alexis–the name of no law firm ever– will be coming along to direct operations and maybe pick up a rebound bachelor. The first order of business is having the firefighter do a pole dance on the bus. Bryce is hitting on Raven by telling her Eric is a risky proposition. They arrive at a cowboy saloon, where a mud-wrestling ring awaits. Lots of drunken woman cheer them on as the guys strip down for the task at hand. At least it’s equal opportunity cheap, tawdry sexism.
I haven’t seen this many shaved chests since the first week of DWTS. No one explains what character traits this exercise will reveal to Rachel, other than a complete lack of dignity when money is concerned. I just hope Kirk Douglas isn’t watching. After much smearing and sliding and flinging grown men over shoulders, Bryce wins the competition. We all learn never to wear pale colors to a mud-wrestling match.
Rachel is then shocked to learn from the gals that Eric may have issues. She wants to explore their concerns about him, while Eric just wants to explore her tonsils with his tongue. This won’t end well.
She sits with Kenny, who reveals he was once a Chippendale dancer. Shocking. He demonstrates his routine for her, tearing off his clothes and shimmying like a sapling in a high wind. Rachel likes that he’s shed more layers of his personality and his wardrobe. Dean next flatters her by saying her friends are great. Then it’s time to talk with Eric.
He tells her he’s vulnerable and needs to know how she feels. I just had this conversation with my boyfriend the other night, only I was like Eric and he was like the bench they’re sitting on. Rachel brings up that Bryce and Lee have ascribed nefarious motives to him. Enraged, Eric returns to have a talk with, or maybe a seethingly defensive, loosely scripted attack on, the guys.
Rachel returns to the group to hand over the rose. She gives it to Eric because their discussion tonight raised their relationship to a new level of inanity. Thus we are ensured conflict and acrimony for another week. The sponsors sign their checks.
Iggy wants to fuss about Eric, which is as useful as complaining about a ticket you got for parking in front of a curb cut. He’s telling Rachel it’s about who’s best for her, when Diggy interrupts. So Iggy approaches Eric and tells him he warned Rachel about him. Eric understandably resents this, and reminds Iggy that he is not dating him, although on occasion I’m not sure that’s the case for any of these guys. Lee has been witness to Eric yelling at Iggy, so when it’s his turn to talk with Rachel, of course he must discuss it. He’s sorry to do it, though, he insists. That’s a good subject for a country song.
Rachel then goes to hunt for Eric. She must resolve this conflict, similar to how one confiscates a toy from toddlers who refuse to share. She’s now questioning her previous rose dispersal decision. Nevertheless, she decides to accept his explanation, but he is pissed, man. He confronts the guys because his “name has been in everybody’s mouth,” and that’s wrong. It should be about Rachel and her way-too-sparkly eye shadow.
Testosterone fills the room like sea water in the hold of the Minnow. It threatens to drown the key grip. Charges of racism fly. Rachel cries. To be continued. . . .
