I am surprised to see Brad is walking in this episode. I truly expected him to be wheelchair bound, crippled from kicking himself after that last rose ceremony debacle. Remember when Whitney barged in front of poor evicted Kara to tell Brad she didn’t know if this was the right thing and Brad said it was the most selfish thing she had done but didn’t wrench the rose out of her hand anyway because his eyes were fixated on the fake bosoms cascading over the top of her plunging red dress? Well too late now, Brad. You’ve made your bed, you’ve done who knows what in it and now you have to face the consequences. On the other hand, you only have two to choose from now: the insecure android or your choc-mint soulmate.
The weather has changed and Brad is able to drive around his home town topless, having ditched the Range Rovers for his sports car. His first stop is the golf course, where he trades down to a buggy and heads off to meet Whitney. He drives for kilometres before meeting up with her right outside the buggy shed. It would have been better for the fuel economy if he had looked there first. She’s ready for the date, having whipped up to the pro shop for a brand new golfing ensemble, complete with spotless white golf shoes and a single white glove which she is already wearing despite their being no golf clubs to be seen.
When Brad finally finds her he tells her that she wants to know where her head is at. The robot part of her touches her head as though her it may have been displaced from her shoulders prompting him to ask that question. There’s more of the “I need to know where your emotions are at” banter before Brad, I think rather dangerously, asks Whitney if she would like to go and hit some balls. In her most enthusiastic response ever, she says “Yes please!”
Predictably, Brad smacks the ball a mile and Whitney hacks up the tee, prompting Brad to give her some touchy feely tuition mostly involving some kissing and patronising compliments. They get to the twelfth hole and Brad has set up a table with some champagne and a few bits of rockmelon. Having played some golf in my time, I would imagine this to be the worst date ever. At best you would have to be constantly calling groups through, and at worst you’re going to have someone’s Titleist landing in your ice bucket.
I hope he didn’t pay for eighteen holes, because Brad and Whitney abandon the game after the twelfth and jump in the buggy which Brad drives right up to the front door if his parents’ house, who conveniently live only 300 metres away from the first tee. Brad has assembled his entire family to meet Whitney, who wipes her hands on her backside before embracing Brad’s mum, Leesa. Brad then suggests that he and Whitney go and change, because it is so unseemly to socialise in golf attire, and Whitney who brought no hand luggage with her emerges in an outfit she has rummaged up from somewhere. Brad’s sister Ashley compliments her on her outfit:
“Wow! I have an outfit just like that!”
Leesa asks Whitney if there is one thing that she finds most attractive about Brad, and Whitney wriggles around on her chair like her undies have ridden up again and splutters about like her verbalisation micro-chip has malfunctioned. Ashley’s onto it. She’s realised that most humans can complete entire sentences. Leesa thinks that Whitney is nervous. Ashley thinks it’s just that she doesn’t speak. Brad tries to cover:
“Whitney just doesn’t answer questions if she hasn’t had a chance to think about the answers. She needs time to process.”
Good job Brad. Just in case Whitney wasn’t doing her best to make herself look like and an illiterate half-wit, in you come with some sort of a confirmation.
So like hyenas separating the weakest zebra from the rest of the herd, Leesa and Ashley soon have Whitney bailed up in the kitchen. Ashley fires about twenty-seven questions at Whitney and ironically cuts off her sentences before she can finish one. Before we know it, the night is over, Whitney manages to spit out a thank you and Brad is ushering her into a cab, with a promise to meet up with her in Barbados.
Back in the kitchen, Leesa summarises the evening.
“Well…”
Hanging sentences are apparently contagious. Must be a computer virus.
Brad still doesn’t know what to think. He’s really into Whitney, but she’s really hard work. And you had twenty-three others, Brad, who by most accounts were pretty easy. If you had stuck with Bubba you would have been having sex three times a day by now.
So next day, Brad is off to connect with BianKKa. No golf for BianKKa, and in some sort of a first for dates between her and Brad, no rain or snow either. He picks her up in his little sports car and takes her on a tour of Hudson. BianKKa does her best to disguise her regret in not bringing a scrunchie. When BianKKa took Brad to her home town, she took him to an ice-cream parlour, so to complete the theme, he takes her to a hotdog joint. Brad explains that Hudson is famous for its smoked meat, but I haven’t seen Brad with a cigarette even once. BianKKa is most pleased with this date, because Brad has apparently been going on about steamed hotdogs since Mexico and BianKKa fesses up to being quite the connoisseur of the smallgoods.
After the hotdog they’re back in the sports car and off to Brad’s place. BianKKa barely has time to pick all the hair out of her lipstick, before she’s inside and plonking her gift of two cases of beer on the kitchen counter. Sadly, Brad’s dad Larry has to sit in the Canadian senate all night, although I have sneaking suspicion he’s trying to avoid a repeat of the world’s most uncomfortable family dinner, so sitting in on arguments for and against some beaver habitat restoration bill suddenly has some appeal. Ashley and Leesa soon have BianKKa peeled off for the kitchen interrogation, where BianKKa apparently makes all the right noises and wins the Smith women over. Leesa makes an unusual observation about the family dynamics:
“Ashley’s the sister, so if she can’t have Brad, then she’s going to have a big say in who does.” By that reckoning, Ashley’s husband, Damon, is the bloke she had to settle for because Canadian law prevents siblings marrying each other. And Ashley had the hide to call Whitney intense.
BianKKa leaves and there’s just time for a family conference before Brad heads off to Barbados. No holds barred, the family endorses BianKKa. Brad says he’s still confused.
Brad, Brad, Brad. Let’s weigh up some of your own observations. You’ve been going on for weeks about how emotionless Whitney is. You say that the lows with Whitney have been really low. When Whitney blocked out Kara at the rose ceremony you said it was the most selfish thing you have ever seen. She’s admitted that she’s not sure. If you’re still confused, then the fantasy suite must have been mighty fantastic.
Before you know it we are on Fantasy Island. All that is missing is Tattoo looking to the heavens shouting; “Airplan! Airplan!” and Ricardo Montalblan saying, ”Welcome to Barbados, Mr Smith. Here we make all your dreams come true.”
What better place to meet up with BianKKa than at Apes Hill Polo Club where Brad is about to ride a horse for the second time. Apparently it is important for Brad to see if BianKKa can cope with some sort of athletic activity on land. Of course, the first thing that would spring to mind would be polo… not golf…or sex. Anyways, after the polo, Brad has apparently realised that there is never a level of angry frustration with BianKKa. Sea kayaking out to the “f*cking iceberg” is now a dim memory. After a third change of outfit, Brad and BianKKa stroll along the beach, their love for one another cemented by the paired mounting of polo ponies.
For his final date with Whitney, Brad takes her aboard a boat aptly named Never Enough, fondly referred to as “glutton for punishment”. And the sea-faring theme gives Whitney another excuse to don a bikini.
Over more champagne, Whitney does her best to splutter out some sentences. The result is that she and Brad have an argument about communication which ironically is the most they have communicated the entire season. Then, ominously a storm cloud rolls over, but Whitney avoids being struck by lightning and having her circuits blow completely. Brad is still confused. He could have done with a few hundred thousand volts as well.
The next morning, after a restless night, Brad heads off to see Whitney. He has something to tell her. No, she has something to tell him. No, Brad has something to say first and the he tells her that they aren’t right for each other. She slams the door in his face.
When she opens the door again, she tells him that he is disrespecting her. Then she walks away from him. And there you go, Brad. She has finally been exposed for the nut case that she is.
To ease his tension, Brad meets up with some unshaven bloke in an ugly jacket who whips out a few rings for Brad to choose from. Brad starts crying, possibly because the sun has reflected off one of the rocks and hit him in the eye.
After yet another sleepless night for Brad, he’s off to Point Proposal. Next minute, Tyler turns up. Nice of you to put in an appearance, Tyler. He wishes Brad luck and then disappears again. I’m not sure how much he gets paid, but Tyler surely must have the easiest job in television. Brad assumes the position on a patio overlooking the ocean, then waits while BianKKa muses about Brad, plucks her eyebrows, gets dressed, admires herself in the mirror, does some talking head work for the camera and drives along the coastline to where Brad is waiting. I think that would have Brad standing on the patio for about three and a half hours.
But before she gets to Brad, BianKKa has to run the Tyler gauntlet, who has re-emerged on a bridge to escort her the final few feet. Brad is crying, but after nearly three hours standing in one place, even the balmy breezes of Barbados can induce hypothermia and this has combined with the effects of sleep deprivation. He embraces BianKKa for the body warmth, and blows his nose on her shoulder. Next minute, Brad’s down on his knee, but before he can use the hem of her flowing white frock as a handkerchief, BianKKa has said yes.
Finally, to the heady strains of Bryan Adams (someone must have lost the Celine Dion CD), we are treated to a montage of all the best moments of their relationship, and not one shot includes a sea kayak.
It was all a bit of an anti-climax really, and even the producers must have been wishing that Kara had managed to wrangle that rose away from Whitney so there could have been some more suspense for the finale.
As for Brad and BianKKa? They lived happily ever after…..or did they?
For those who want to find out, here’s a link:
http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20798332,00.html
friday night with kath 