The stars assembled last night for the glitz and glamour of the 74th Golden Globe Awards. How shocked I was to see the yet again The Bachelor was overlooked for a nomination in the television categories for Most Outstanding Drama! That makes the 74th year in a row. Well surely things are about to change, because Chris Harrison has promised that this season is going to be the most dramatic ever. Surely even the Hollywood Foreign Press can’t ignore that.
So Chris wastes no time in getting the drama started. The girls have barely had time to finishing cheering each other with breakfast bellinis before he arrives with the news about the dates. This week there will be two group dates and one single date, but he warns that even with all those dates some of them will miss out leaving them with nothing to do all week except mope about the mansion pouting and sulking, and if they’re REALLY bored, crying.
Josephine grabs the card and reads the names, a seemingly endless roll call which eventually gets about half of them out of the house: Corrinne, Vanessa, Sarah, a freshly scaled Alexis, Hailey, Raven, Taylor, Lacey, Brittany, one of the Jasmines, the Elizabeth that hasn’t already bedded the bachelor and Danielle-L. Now surely the producers could have chucked one of these Danielles a few bucks to call themselves Danni for a few weeks, but no. Every time this girl’s name is called it sounds like the speaker has a speech impediment or is coughing up a fur ball.
“Always a bridesmaid. Dot. Dot. Dot,” says Josephine who at this time doesn’t realise the irony in Liz being left off this date.
The chosen ones run outside and are packed into three convertibles. In yet ANOTHER season where no-one has budgeted for hair ties, the girls are transported from the bachelor mansion to another mansion, where they spend the first fifteen minutes picking their hair extensions out of their teeth and lipstick.
In the garden, they are greeted by Nick who reminds them that he is an expert in group dates and advises them to just relax have fun with it. “It” turns about to be a bridal photo shoot. Cue the photographer who is dressed like a 70’s porno cabana boy: I think his name is Franco, but let’s call him Porno Pete.
He announces, in a dubious accent, that half of them will be bridesmaids, which probably sounded like a bad thing until they started hearing the bridal themes. Vanessa gets to be the “80’s bride” and we all know that nothing good in fashion came out of the 1980s, bridal or otherwise. Alexis gets to be the “Shot gun bride”, complete with a maternity belly like she’s been impregnated by Flipper, and so it goes.
Off the girls go to make-up and there is enough down time for Corrine to suck down a couple of mimosas and remind anyone who had forgotten that she was the first one to kiss Nick and her name was the first one on the date card.
“I’m so full of number ones,” she gushes. “At least that’s better than being number two. Or going number two.”
But not speaking number twos.There’s plenty of that coming out of her mouth.
Corrinne is dressed as “Florida Beach Slut Bride” in a white bikini top and sarong and she is prancing around like the Pamela Anderson that swallowed the Tommy Lee.
“I’m wearing a bikini. I’m so sexy. I’m the most sexy bride ever…” she proclaims.
But she is cut short mid-sentence at the appearance of Brittany, who emerges from the back room clad only in a fig-leaf bikini bottom with her hair extensions tastefully superglued to her chest, Lady Godiva- like.
“Brittany’s only half-dressed,” incorrectly observes the actually half-dressed Corrine. Brittany’s wedding garb only covers about a tenth of her. Yes, Brittany. Just relax and have fun with it.
And so the photo shoot begins. Like all good weddings, there’s plenty of booze and Corinne gets right into the spirit of things and toasts every bride.
There’s the “Vegas-Hire-A-Bride-By-The-Hour” wedding.
Corinne drinks to that.
There’s Alexis’ “Shotgun Wedding” where Alexis defines “chemistry” by how far she can wrap her legs around Nick’s neck.
Corinne drinks to that.
“The Biker’s Moll” wedding. The wedding where Vanessa is dressed like Madonna marrying Sean Penn and Nick manages to refrain from bedding a bridesmaid.
Taylor’s wedding. Danielle-L-L-L’s.
Corinne drinks to all of those. And so the pattern continues until by the time the “Adam and Eve” nuptials take place she is so slurry her words are becoming even looser that we thought possible.
And she’s getting jealous…because Brittany gets to be all topless and here is Corinne in all her blondness and drunkenness and semi-clothed-ness.
And the girls give Brittany a standing ovation.
This will not do. This WILL NOT DO.
Porno Pete senses something wonderful is going to happen. Nick and Corinne are in the pool for their beach-themed wedding and Corinne makes her move. In the blink of an eye the beach is invaded by a couple of white pointers.
“That’s cute,” moans Porno Pete. “That’s adorable.”
No, Pete. Labrador puppies are cute. Puppies out on the first date are cheap and just a little bit nasty.
Apparently it was Porno Pete’s job to decide the winner.
“I have looked at the photos, but mostly I have looked at Corinne’s photos. I have looked at Corinne’s photos for many hours…by myself…in a dimly lit room…with the doors locked. Corinne is the winner.”
“Yay!” exclaims the chorus of Corinne, as the rest of the girls endure their punishment for lack of chemistry by being forced to watch yet another photo shoot of Nick and Corinne on the back of a convertible with a ‘Just Married’ sign on the back.
Soon it’s night time and there’s one of those mini-cocktail parties where the girls fight for Nick’s attention, while getting progressively drunker, in the hope that they may be awarded the group date rose. Corinne grabs Nick and takes him off for a chat. This is a very deep conversation, because her tongue is half-way down his throat.
Nick breaks away momentarily and he has a sweaty brow. It’s like he’s trying to figure out whether Corinne has just impregnated him.
“I like youuuu!” she says with an upward inflection which has been enhanced by the consumption of three gallons of champagne.
Somehow Nick escapes her clutches and he gets to have a chat to some of the other girls. Raven summons up enough bravado to send Lacey packing.
“I’m not calling you an asshole,” says Raven, “but I’m attracted to assholes, because assholes speak their minds.” That’s Arkansas logic, right there.
Then Alexis has a go. “I don’t know where I am with you. First I was a dolphin, today I was pregnant and now I’m…”
Before she can say that she’s rolling drunk and having trouble keeping her tits in her dress, there is Corinne, back for round two.
Then she’s back to the group and for someone who is so drunk she can hardly speak, Corinne has an awful lot to say:
“I think my nipple might have accidentally been exposed when I pulled my top down round my waist. Oh well. Hey if you don’t want to be interrupted then what are you doing here. This isn’t about anybody else, this is only about myself. Cheers, bitches!”
Then off she goes and throws Taylor to the curb, interrupting the riveting conversation she and Nick were having about Taylor’s tertiary education. Taylor scurries away like they always do because they don’t want to look like they are the complete bitch, but has a re-think and comes back a few minutes later. Because, if Nick wants to talk to her about her education, that must mean that girls like Corinne don’t appeal to him…
Back on the couch, while Nick is off somewhere putting some balm on his chaffed lips, Corrine takes Taylor to task about her offensive barging in behaviour:
“But you interrupted me!” says Taylor.
“No. I’m not talking about interrupting. You RE-INTERRUPTED me. Re-interrupting is not cool.”
OMG. For some reason I am reminded of that scene in Blue Hawaii where Elvis Presley puts the naughty school girl over his knee and smacks her on her behind and manages to belt all the spoilt little bitch out of her. But this is The Bachelor, and 2017. I guess we won’t get to see that.
Besides, Nick comes back, and unperturbed by the expectant faces dimly lit by tea candles, he gives the group date to…Corinne. It’s kind of how a male praying mantis might offer up a sacrifice to his mate so that she might hold off from eating him.
The next day Danielle M and Nick are off on a boring date to Dull-Land with nothing terribly noteworthy. We open the annual tally of helicopters, yachts and hot tubs and uneaten cheese platters.
They head off for dinner and don’t eat a meal and Nick tells Danielle M his complete Bachelor dating history and I’m pretty sure that would be the end of the date. But then Danielle M tells her own sad dating story which ends in the overdose of her fiancé.
I can see the cogs turning in Nick’s head as he revisits the wisdom of the Ghosts of Bachelors past:
Don’t be a giant toolbag. Don’t be a giant toolbag. Don’t be a giant toolbag.
So he gives Danielle M a rose and they go on the worlds longest ferris wheel ride which brings an end to the world’s most boring date.
Meanwhile, back at the house, Liz has decided that she simply must share the knowledge of her tryst with Nick at Jade and Tanner’s wedding and has targeted Christen. She gives Christen every sordid detail in a minute-by-minute recall. It appears that Christen has tried, unsuccessfully to escape at some point, because the story continues through four different changes of outfit and three different hairstyles. By the end of it, Christen is a shell of her former self, as empty as a pool flamingo:
The next day, Christen, Josephine, Astrid, Jaimi, Kristina and Liz are off on the final group date of the week. The group date card says, “We need to talk…” which secretly fills Christen’s head with doom.
The girls all meet Nick at a place called The Museum of Broken Relationships. Not only is this a real place, but there is a chain of them. There’s one in Pittsburgh and there’s one in Croatia. This one’s in Hollywood, on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Haha!). Anyhow, this place is just chock full to the rafters with breast implants and dog brushes and other symbols of lost love. There’s even Nick’s dried up rose and the engagement ring that he planned to give to Kaitlyn.
But the real draw card apparently is the break-up symposiums which are held frequently enough and draw enough of an audience to warrant a small amphitheatre out the back. The self-help movement really has some answering to do. So the girls have to impress Nick with the best break-up. If that is not THE WORST idea for a date ever, I don’t know what is. And mostly the girls are very bad at it – and not in a good way.
But then there is Josephine, who immediately after telling the camera that she doesn’t know Nick well enough to harbour any anger, walks on to the stage and gives him a slap across the face that sends him into the middle of next week.
So this girl talks to her cat, seeks out fur seals for advice and can dislodge the teeth of a man for whom she holds no malice? There’s some real psychological shit going down there.
And finally Liz get her turn. She might as well have brought along a gun so that she could shoot herself in the foot. Instead, she has somehow found the time between looking at the breast implant display and cheering on Josephine’s slap to nip off to the gift shop, buy a little notebook and pen and jot down all her deep resentment about that one time at Jade and Tanner’s wedding…….
Oh sorry. I nodded off there for a while.
So Nick takes the girls off to an abandoned night club and talks to them one-on-one, all the while cautious about what they know or have figured out. All goes well for a while and Nick breathes a sigh of relief. Then he almost gasps in excitement when Jaimi tells him that she has dated women, before his fragile little world comes crashing down when he realises that Christen knows every sordid detail. Where. When. How many times. Penis length. EVERYTHING.
So then Liz and Nick have their chat and it soon turns to the whole “you didn’t give me your number” crap and finally Nick tells her to leave.
Thank god for that. May I never hear the names Jade and Tanner again.
Besides, there’s not enough room in the mansion for two villains, and Corinne has that all to herself.
You can cut the drama with a knife. It’s too big for one episode. Watch out Golden Globes.
The Bachelor screens on 9 Life, Tuesday nights at 8:30 pm
Photo credits: 9 Now