Ready for Love premiered Tuesday night.
This show is unlike any other reality dating show you’ll ever see, lies executive producer Eva Longoria.
Lots of dramatic music and lighting. Lots of quick cuts and editing that makes Cloverfield feel like Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope. Random reality-show dialogue ensues.
“It’s about to get real.”
“She’s messing with the wrong person.”
“Herpes! Herpes! Herpes!”
There are three “amazing” bachelors. There are three “top” matchmakers. There are two co-hosts. There are 36 women…excuse me…girls. There is the incessant use of the term girls to describe women. There are 12 drummers drumming. There are eight pipers piping. And chlamydia in a pear tree.
Co-host Giuliana Rancic and her husband Not-Giuliana Rancic say this was an “epic” search, and “we’re meeting the best of the best” of women willing to subject themselves to reality television. Not-Giuliana Rancic is the first to misuse the word “literally.” And it is “epic” and like “nothing I’ve ever seen before” except that I have.
Tonight is Tim’s quest for love. Tim is a “rock star” in the band the Plain White T’s.
In the first of 5,678 mini-biographies, Tim confesses that he’s not a stereotypical rock star in the sense that he’s unrecognizable. Tim married his high school sweetheart, but things didn’t work out because he was touring 367 out of the 365 days in the year. He’s sad, yo. See:
Tim gets to meet four women chosen for him by “top” matchmaker Amber. Giuliana explains that Tim will have to stand behind a wall and not see the four. He will have to pick three based on their personalities. I have never seen this before ever.
Wait…have I seen this before?
Nope. Never.
Amber is coaching her “girls.”
“Words and lyrics speak to him,” she amazes “Get your message across.”
Wow. I’ve been doing it wrong all these years with my set of semaphore flags.
We get Amber’s mini-biography. She says she doesn’t know how anyone meets people in clubs. “Matchmaking goes with the 21st century.” And feudal China.
And it begins. The four women pop up in boxes.
And it reminds me of something…what can it be?
This is working well for Tim because his Madame Alexander Doll collection is missing a few essentials.
We get mini-biographies of the women, but they’re short because most dolls are interchangable. The French one gets a shot to show her spontaneity by spinning awkwardly in a plaza.
Tim narrows down the field and does the same thing with four women chosen by matchmaker Matt, also known as the douche with a British accent:
And Tracy, who unironically refers to herself as “the honest truth.”
The ladies must entice Tim while he only has to breathe with his lungs and eliminate waste with his kidneys. Love!
Some recite insipid poetry, sing and, unfortunately, beatbox. The nine winners get sealed in plastic and placed in a special Matchbox car collector’s case. The three losers are sucked into the bowels of hell.
One of Tim’s chosen harem is Leah, a woman he has known for six years. Leah realized she loved Tim when she heard he was to be on television. Giuliana asks about the nature of their relationship. “We had our moments that have been great,” Leah says coyly. (translation: fuck buddy)
The women are shipped UPS to Tim’s rock-star lair where they are subjected to a Plain White Zzzz’s concert.
And I have never seen anything like this on a reality dating show. Have I?
The women meet with the matchmakers for “helpful” “advice” before their collective first date with Tim. Amber tells her women to “build (their) brand” whatever the fuck that means. The date entails finishing Tim’s trite love song. The matchmakers each pick one woman to share one-on-one time with Tim.
Hailey, Amber’s pick, tells an embarrassing fart story and cryingly cries that she’s happy.
Danielle, Matt’s pick, shares her cute list of 50 or more qualities her perspective mate must have.
Christina, Tracy’s pick, plays the piano and stares at him as if she wants to murder his face.
Now we’re back in the studio for the matchmakers’ critique. Amber expresses her displeasure with Hailey. “You said F-A-R-T? And that word should never be uttered by a woman on a date,” she actually says all the while holding in her 52,560th fart. Matt accuses Leah of retreading the past too much and being boring. “He knows certain parts of me,” Leah says.
“I would like him to know other parts.”
Giuliana cuts to the chase: “Did you guys fuck or what?”
Leah refuses to answer. Yup, they did.
The matchmakers each choose a woman for elimination. Hmm…a woman being eliminated from a reality dating show. Have I seen that before?
Leah, farting Hailey and Toothy School Teacher are on the chopping block. Tim arrives. For some reason he has a quill sticking out of his lapel. It’s so…rock star? Sure, let’s go with that.
He picks Hailey to stay and she farts back to the Matchbox case. Tim, Leah and Toothy are Star-Trek beamed to some garden for the elimination ceremony, and the giant jumbotron screen goes to snow.
Tim shows his familiarity with reality television venacular by saying “This is so difficult for me.” He ends up sending Leah home with the obvious “if we were meant to be together, why didn’t we make that happen in Austin.”
Hmm. A bachelor with a little brain function.
That I have not seen.
Is it drugs or alcohol that gets you through these shows?
Sadly no. For this show, I merely dug a screwdriver into my gallbladder incisions. That seemed to help.
You had a lot of gall to do that.
Some puns must be said.
Elyse,
I was under the impression that Hugo was watching these shows, and writing these posts. Don’t shatter my reality, please.
Le Clown
Le Clown,
That is true…as true as the love and disease on reality dating shows. Don’t despair.
S7
Hugo may be the one who glues S7’s eyelids open and hides the remote.
I’m so glad you are willing to watch this drivel so I needn’t bother not that I would bother. Your recaps are far more entertaining than those bits of manufactured reality could ever be.
I think we made a connection with this comment and I would like to continue on our journey.
I love your writing, I really do. But there is something about those spiffy photos that just puts me in my happy place day after day.
I use photos because otherwise I don’t think readers would believe these shows actually exist.
Good call!
NOOOOO! Don’t do it! Don’t get sucked into another self-loathing spiral of dating reality shows! Too late? Oh well. More fun for us.
I think I read somewhere–a Denny’s placemat?–that one must suffer for one’s art.
Spinning around awkwardly? I am sooo good at that! I could be on this show and put in a box.
By the way, did Bret Michaels ever find love? I wonder about this, it keeps me up at night.
I believe he found love with Donald Trump…or their wigs intermingled…either way it was beautiful.
I can rest easy now.
I swear, you should be reviewing all shows in the world. You rock.
Thank you. Luckily there are about 456,324,123 reality shows out there for me to watch.
I’ve said it before and I will say it again. You are a saint for taking the bullet for us so we don’t have to watch this crap. All we have to do is read the re-crap.
I am a true American hero or zero, one of those.
Wonderful, superlative…hmmmm..I had a great time reading this post…at first I said…geez, can this be serious? Then…it hit me, wonderment…ah the beauty of sarcasim in the right place! Thanks. 😉
What is surprising is that this show is actual serious.
oops…I’ve never had the pleasure, I live overseas and besides, I don’t have a TV…kinda scary.
Wasn’t that old dude in that band Poison?
Hells yeah! You probably didn’t recognize him without double the amount of eyeliner and lipstick.
He used to be hot…now..he is so not. Dude, get some Botox!!
Ugh, I can’t believe people keep making money off “reality” dating shows.
But secretly, I’m happy you have another show to re-crap.
I seriously think there is something wrong with me.
Great. It’s 8 am and now all I can think about is Cheetos. I wonder if the hospital vending machine has some…
It sounds like you’re ready for love of Cheeto dust.
Ohhh yeah.
I’m not sure where you get the stamina to endure these shows, but good on ya! I hope Hugo was taking notes to woe Eva Longoria to realize her wisdom is not wise.
Love the boxes — hopefully they seal in/out the farts?
I didn’t even consider the fart-blocking potential of the doll boxes. Now they make total sense.
A “rock star” that needs to go on a reality show to find a woman? What a joke. Jim Morrison is turning over in his grave.
Methinks he’s looking for people to actually listen to his singing and disguising it as a desire for love.
You might be onto something speaker7. His one hit, that Delilah song, is now selling for 69 cents on iTunes, the cyberspace equivalent of the remainder bin.
I have never seen anything like this show ANYWHERE!
I know! It’s the most innovative television programming I’ve seen since So You Think You Can Dance.
Please(!) do a review of Splash. What fucking nonsense.
You are the second person to wish for this. I may cave.
Do I want to know wtf Splash is? I remember it was an awful movie with Daryll Hannah.
It’s a reality show about Louie Anderson being lowered into a pool with a forklift. I know.
All will be revealed tomorrow.
I’ve been saying we NEED a show like that one. Those TV producers are geniuses.
I can only imagine what bullshit comes next..
Talk about drama! Wow! These are some forward thinking creative types.
Hollywood is lazy for rehashing tired old crap again and again in movies and TV. The general public is just as guilty of sloth for accepting this drivel. Thank goodness for those who take the time to write blogs and express themselves (until Fox calls and offers us writing jobs).
I really want to write Randy Jackson’s bits on American Idol. I would have him say such amazing things like “Little pitchy, dawg” and “Dawg, little pitchy.”
Your creative skills are being squandered in the blogging world – Hollywood beckons.
I also HATE IT when grown ass women are referred to as girls. Or gurrlzz. Either one.
It is prevalent on reality dating shows. I would prefer the women just be called objects because that’s basically their purpose on these shows.
True.
Once again I have you to thank for that bonus hour available on my DVR to record Real Housewives instead of this tripe. You have performed a valuable service to humanity.
Cool. Are they up to Real Housewives of Satan’s Lair yet?
No, I think that one premiers in August. Sounds hot. I’m anxious for Housewives of Appalachia.
Did fart girl do her thang in that box? That would be true reality.
That would actually be pretty entertaining.
Somehow, those boxes look more like glass closets. Maybe these women will step out of their closets, to reveal their true intelligence, or whatever they feel the need to reveal in order to stay on for one more show.
I think the idea is to reveal one’s ability to take on the characteristics of an inanimate object.
I’m speechless.
That would make you the perfect woman to fit in one of those boxes if you continue with the non-talking.
🙂
Ahhhhh – love love love! My favorites: “And chlamydia in a pear tree” and “The three losers are sucked into the bowels of hell.” Can’t hit follow fast enough.
Wow! Thanks for enjoying my reality television recrapping.
Oh, the originality with programming these days! It’s like how TLC has that “My Strange Addiction” show where people eat deodorant and toilet paper and dryer sheets cause, like, who hasn’t been tempted, right? But then they came up with a totally new original show called “My Secret Obsession” about people who collect bizarre things like pigs and Barbies. They don’t eat them though (I don’t think – I’ve only watched one episode so far). But this dating show is so original because they put the ladies in actual boxes, which I’d been thinking they should have been doing all this time on the Bachelor. They stay fresher longer that way.
They also have better resale value.
This is my latest guilty pleasure. Seriously, that band guy made me vomit in my mouth a little bit. Also, can someone please tell me what is up with Julianna Ranic’s face? Her facial gestures made her look like she had uncontrollable facial spasms.