And, they're off! Bachelor Pad is back, my friends, and in the two-hour season premiere Monday night we have already seen (by my count): 1 bout of tears, 1 case of spit-swapping, 3 skinny-dippers, and 1.5 Erica Rose temper tantrums. Yep, looks like the gang is all here. And I, for one, couldn't be more glad to see them.
Since the entire Bachelor/ette/Pad franchise is based completely on being revolutionary, groundbreaking, and truly important television, for Season 3 of Bachelor Pad the powers that be have decided to throw five innocent(ish) super fans into the deep end with the vicious alums. Who are these doomed kids? Let's meet em.
Paige: This bubbly brunette either looks a lot like Rose McGowan or I watched too much Charmed in my youth. But, irregardless, she's cute and really knows how to make a good first impression. "When I see everyone, I'm feeling like I'm going to pee my pants — which was happened before," she tells the camera. I don't know about you, but I love talking about my lack of bladder control on the first date.
Chris: Chris is a burly SWAT team member who likes to unwind after a long day of kicking ass with a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon, a Snuggie, and five hours of The Bachelorette on his DVR. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about this guy makes me want to do the loser cough. Wish I could figure out what it could be…
Donna: Holy fame! Bikini-clad Donna ended up on this show by accident when she stumbled into the wrong room in search of the Jersey Shore open casting call. Enough said.
David: This professional fighter may look like he's been hit in the face a dozen too many times, but I'm positive he's got a heart of gold. Somewhere. He also has an interesting taste in women, as exemplified by his self-proclaimed crush on both Lindzi and Blakely. Orange women are a turn-on? I'm not sure what else those two have in common.
Brittany and Erica: Twins! These two blondes share one brain and one vote on the show, as is only fair. Erica is a virgin and Brittany is… not. This is like one pizza delivery man away from a bad pornographic videotape. Fun fact about Brittany and Erica: When seen without their makeup, these ladies look like the little girl from Andre (you know, the sea lion movie).
As the contestants filter into the house one-by-one, the air immediately begins to spark from all the built up dramatic energy. Reid has some unfinished business with Ed, Chris B. is ready to mingle now that his "healing time" post his whopping dumping by Emily Maynard is complete, and Erica Rose is, here. Let me tell ya, the beginnings of this meet and greet are more awkward than a first kiss with braces. Things go from bad to worse when Ryan, the guy no one remembers, says to the camera, "Everyone knew me on DeAnna's season as the 28-year-old virgin. Now I'm the 32-year-old virgin." Dude, don't lead with that. I promise you, it won't help you change your prospects.
As all the girls pretend to be nice to Blakely Fakely (while then trashing her behind her back like real friends do), Ed begins to drink like a fish. Then he strips down to his tighty whiteys and starts swimming like one. He can't even be reigned in to listen to Chris Harrison's explanation of the rules. Watching Ed dive into the hot tub brings a flurry of words to mind, including both "train wreck" and "awesome," which I now know are not mutually exclusive.
For those of you unfamiliar with how Bachelor Pad works, I pity you. But luckily, Chris Harrison is here to explain it. On Bachelor Pad, as in life, it is boys vs. girls. At the end of each week, the contestants will vote each other off Survivor style. The boys vote for the girl they want to see gone, and the girls vote for the boy they want to give the boot. Leading up to the big vote, everyone will pair off into boy/girl teams and each week they will all compete in the challenge. The winner of said challenge gets immunity and a fancypants date. Harrison then drops the bomb everyone's been waiting for: They have to pair off into their teams right. now. As in immediately. As in drunkenly. This is a brilliant bit of plotting by the powers that be at ABC, because who is going to be happy the next morning with a pairing they made drunkenly the night before? It's like how after staying out until last call on Halloween you wake up the next morning to find a Ninja Turtle in your bed.
The next morning, our beautiful bachelors and bachelorettes awaken fresh as daisies to the chirping of birds and the honking of angry drivers stuck in traffic on whichever Los Angeles freeway the Bachelor mansion borders (I'm from New York, I don't understand how traffic in L.A. works, but I hear it's pervasive). It's challenge day, so everyone dons their Spandex and bounds out to the yard.
Today's challenge is called "Falling for Love." It's full of cheesy puns ("You must find the strength in your heart") and is probably too complicated to explain without a visual aid of some sort, so you're just going to have to imagine it the very best that you can. The pairs sit inside giant heart-shaped cookie cutters and try to hold on while the hearts are lifted two feet off the ground and then tilted at increasingly steep angles. Contestants must try not to fall out of the heart while it is being tilted. The first team to do so gets one vote against them at the final rose ceremony. The winning team gets a date.
Erica Rose and Nick fall out first (which was totally Nick's fault, shut up Nick we don't even remember you anyway), while David, lover of orange women, and the twins win. I know, right? The twins? These two are the worst. Or, as Chris puts it, "immature and kind of ridiculous." Go home, twins!
But alas, the twins are safe for this week and they set off on a perfect date with David to the boardwalk. David drops a lot of names about the amazing dates he saw on past seasons (OMG! Emily rode a carousel!), the twins suggest everyone goes skinny dipping, and I start to yawn. Because, really, no one cares about you three. At all. We switch back to the action at the mansion in the nick of time.
Back at the mansion, what do we find but more hair-raisingly electric drama. Jamie pulls Chris aside for a little Seven Minutes in Heaven, and Blakely doesn't like that one bit. Oh no she doesn't not one enemy little bit. Blakely yells at Jamie for not being a nice girl and then cries to herself because she really thought that people would like her now that she waxes people for a living instead of serving them cocktails.
And all of a sudden, it's time for the deliberation. That's right, voting time, folks. Let the scheming begin!
Michael Stagliano, who won the game last season and is just all around everyone's favorite guy, is narrating every thought that goes through my head. "Oh my God, I love this game so much," he says. "This game is fascinating. I feel like some people aren't even playing it. They don't even know that they're on a game show." The clueless person he's talking to is super fan David. All the spinning from the rides at the boardwalk must've liquidated his brain, because he decides to spill his entire strategy to not just anyone, but everyone. Including Erica Rose, the very person he wants to vote off this week. Stupid, stupid, man. Michael, please explain what's happening here for me, you have such a way with words. "The game is lying! Avoid conversations, and if you do talk to them, you lie to them." Thanks, Stags.
After much planning and scooping and scoping and scapegoating, everyone makes their final vote. Due to an ill-advised Veterans Vs. Fans dichotomy that David Demi-Brain set up, it is just about 500% certain that SWAT *loser cough* Chris is going home. For the girls, it's going to be a toss-up between Erica Rose and sweet, pants-wetting Paige. The decision hinges on the decisions made by Kalon (who hates Erica) and SWAT (who hates Demi-Brain, who hates Erica).
One by one the names are called at the Elimination Rose Ceremony.
Which means SWAT and Paige (despite Reid's twelfth hour campaign) are dunzo. It's a shame, really; I thought Paige was cute. And lord knows my pun-obsessed self loved that Reid and Paige were teammates — get it, like, read a page? Reid himself pointed that one out, an act for which I will love him always.
Follow Abbey Stone on Twitter @abbeystone
[Photo Credit: ABC]
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Excuse me while I allow my brain to recover. Revenge is back, and with it comes the emotional and mental somersaults with the veracity of a sugar-high five-year-old in an open field of daisies. And after those seemingly endless weeks between the episode that landed dear Daniel in Rikers Island Prison and this week’s “Doubt” I doubt — yuck, yuck — I was the only one whose brain was a little rusty. Either that, or this episode delivered beyond what we expected: Twist after turn after twist. Whether it’s my own incompetence or a heightened level of intrigue, we can be certain of one thing: The Revenge we love for its relentless series of surprises, betrayals, and sexual intrigues is back on that track, going full steam ahead (we’re getting all new episodes from here until the finale) to one hell of an emotional, messy wreck by season’s end.
We begin with Daniel in clink, Declan waffling about whether or not to protect his “hooded man on the beach” brother from suspicion, Charlotte’s got a raging Oxycotin addiction (though when is Jack’s bottomless prescription bottle going to run out?), and the Graysons are desperate to find any way to wrest a theory from the evidence (existing and imagined) that can get Daniel acquitted. And with Emily’s Sensei long-gone, she’s left to clean up this mess, and just as he warned her: She can’t save Jack and Daniel.
But there’s the issue of free will and extraneous factors. Emily can do as much damage control as possible, but with this slate of characters, everyone is clawing their way to their own better solution. Victoria tries to get Charlotte to describe the hooded man on the beach, hoping it can get Daniel acquitted. But she’s not looking for just any description; she’s trying to get Charlotte to say it could be a woman - more specifically Amanda Clarke. When that doesn’t pan out, Victoria takes matters into her own hands and has the sketch artist make the hooded man look like Jack Porter.
To weave this story into real life, they need a wordsmith, so Emily has Nolan find Mason Treadwell, who’s sipping wine coolers and spinning poetry about his molten heap of a typewriter in his burned down house. Translation: he’s desperate. Nolan feeds him the idea that Amanda set up Daniel for murder: hook, line and sinker. He’s sitting pretty in the Grayson den writing his new blog, The Treadwell Report. (Alright, could we have done a little better on this one guys? It evokes the knee-jerk journalism of the Drudge Report, but that’s what we expected. You didn’t have to get so literal on us.)
But, let’s be honest. Mason is slippery. He may be suffering a whatever-kind-of-life-crisis that comes after losing all of one’s earth possessions in a fire, but he’s still after the big scoop. First stop: the Stowaway. Mason says Jack will take the fall for the murder unless he goes on record saying Amanda put him up to it, and Jack being the big manly protector throws Mason out for talking that way about his missing girlfriend. Declan finally sees that he needs to protect his brother and chases Mason down to tell him that Charlotte was on painkillers and drinking champagne, removing all credibility from her story and the sketch of Jack. With a quick check through Charlotte’s drawers, Mason find the Oxy and publishes his story.
Next: Victoria goes nude with an old flame.
But that’s only one piece of the puzzle. Victoria also wants her wittle baby man back home with her, so she pays Lee (the same thug she sent to Jack’s to retrieve the stolen tapes) to “send a message” to her son in prison. And that message is three broken ribs and a head injury. Boom: Daniel is downgraded to house arrest. (And by “boom” we mean: After some negotiations and a measly $10 million bail.)
And right as Emily watches Victoria pay off her “messenger” we’re whisked off to a momentary vacation from scandal and murder as Victoria encounters her old flame, Dominik Wright. The deliciously dashing artist picks her up at the bar calling her Vicky Harper (hello, pre-Hamptons Victoria!) and after all their artsy loft love-making, he shows her a painting he did of her and tells her how much he loves her and how much it hurt him when she went off and “married that bloke.” (Boring old moneybags Conrad.) It’s a little out of place in this whole mess of intrigue but I could be up for a little salacious romance outside of the cutesy Emily-Jack-Daniel love triangle.
And this is delicious point when everything starts unraveling. Charlotte reads Treadwell’s first post about Declan’s confession and breaks up with him before turning to the bottomless Oxycotin bottle. With Charlotte’s credibility goes the hooded man theory and Daniel’s entire defense. Emily leads Mason to the hidden tapes, leading him to think that the Graysons burned down his house and that poor Amanda is mistakenly wrapped up in it all. Victoria is so desperate for some way to save her son that she throws all logic out the window and suggests that Emily was the one who finished killing Tyler and knocked Daniel out. It doesn’t really make sense because Emily was listening to one of Victoria’s many empty speeches when the violence went down, but it doesn’t matter because Daniel says if Victoria brings Emily into this he’ll confess to the whole thing. Emily really did dig herself into a whole on this one. The poor boy loves her more than he loves frolicking free with his daddy’s millions.
And in one last amazing, ass-kicking scene we find Emily conning Victoria’s thug, Lee, in one of her copious stripper wigs (which she apparently keeps in a high security safe). She finally lures him outside and beats the crap out of him (seriously, it felt like watching a Quentin Tarrantino movie for a minute there) for beating up Jack when the tapes were hidden under his bed and for taking Victoria’s money and having Daniel beat to a pulp on the prison bathroom floor. We need more of this Emily. All that time she spends trying to keep her composure in her J. Crew get-ups, she’s really festering, ready to haul some ne’er-do-well into the alley and beat him within an inch of his life. I say let that Emily out. Also, let that Emily kiss Jack already, but that’s a whole other can of worms.
Was Revenge’s return everything you hoped for and more? Or were you left wondering when stripperella barbie would make her return? (We want some more Amanda too.) Sound off in the comments!
Follow Kelsea on Twitter @KelseaStahler.
Revenge, There You Are! Daniel's Day in Court, Victoria Gets it On and More! - PICS
All the Mysteries Revenge Needs to Solve
Seriously, Where the Hell is Revenge?
Cult sci-fi series Star Trek is set for a return to the small screen - a Hollywood writer is looking to produce a new TV show to tie in with the upcoming movie.
The space age series, starring William Shatner, became a cult hit after it first aired in 1966 and has spawned six spin-off shows and 10 films.
A new prequel movie, directed by Lost creator J.J. Abrams, is set to hit cinemas this summer and Pushing Daisies screenwriter Bryan Fuller is hoping to capitalize on the film's success with a new spin-off TV series.
He says, "I told my agent and told the people of J.J. Abrams' team I want to create another Star Trek series and have an idea that I’m kicking around. I would love to return to the spirit of the old series with the colours and attitude. I loved Voyager and Deep Space Nine, but they seem to have lost the ‘60s fun and I would love to take it back to its origin.
"I would love to do it in the same era as the J.J. Abrams movie, but on another starship on a completely different adventure."
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