After a relatively action-packed episode on Monday night, last night's IACGMOOH was a bit "eh!" So were the numbers: According to The Live Feed, it slipped to a new low, down a tenth from the night before. Still won its time slot, though, but apparently it doesn't count: Its only competition was reruns.
Onto the broadcast: There's a quick cross-promotion with Microsoft's new Google, bing. Yes, that's bing, all lowercase. Please tell me the high-pitched man-voice that goes “biiiiinggg!” noise annoys you as much as it does me. Plus, bing won't work as a verb, like Google. Not in the past tense, anyway. Read it: binged. Makes you think of a heavy drinking session, doesn't it? That can't be good.
Now to the episode: We open with everyone talking about the new sheriff in town, Long Tall John Salley. His style is Strict Dad versus Lou Diamond Phillips' Nice Uncle. That's right, big boy's a hardass. He immediately doles out responsibilities to each and every campmate and lays down his Commandments of the Camp. Such as: "If you do not wash your hands, you do not get food."
"He’s now forcing his will on his people," complains Stephen Baldwin, showing off his sack-of-oatmeal physique. Get some sun on that torso, dude! "I think he’s taking this leadership thing a little too seriously," Patti asides about her BFF behind his back.
The Great Jungle Storm of the night before has passed, and Damien and Myleene are back in their cushy studio, and good for them. They introduce a segment about the camp's latest cockamamie time-killing game: Let’s make a slasher flick! Hoo boy. Horror props arrive out of nowhere, the fake knife the ketchup, the Scream mask. LouDi’s the director. It's the biggest break he's had in years, you can totally tell. Ever the adorable naif, Holly is excited to be making a movie "with people of such high caliber as Lou Diamond Phillips."
True to form, Janice Dickinson yells, "Who do I have to sleep with to get the lead?" Dream on, honey. Not with the Bombshell Wilson around, and LouDi is terribly diligent about blocking her shower scene. Then Long Tall deadpans to camera, "I've worked with the great Lou Diamond Phillips. How may people can say that?" Beat. "How many people want to say that?" Oh, snap!
The scroll. Long Tall don't need no reading glasses. It's a food trial, one from each team goes head to head, yada yada. No prizes for guessing who's up for the ladies: Torrie. "She can move mountains because she's a brick shithouse," explains J-Dick, channeling The Commodores from that hit song back in the 70s when she was famous.
So it's the two muscle queens, again, Torrie and LouDi. How redundant. And how many times do I have to say it: These trials are mean to be voter driven. It's supposed to be a democracy. The players going into the trials are meant to be the ones the public wants to see in there. Although it's entirely possible that that's a moot point by now, as there's not much of a public out there that wants to see them, period. Still, the US remake doesn't hold a candle to the UK version in so many ways, but now I'm getting redundant so I'll shut up about it already.
Onto the trial: There’s a tank with snakes. The food is pasta. Is it just me or do the food presentations all look like those plastic displays you see in the window of cheap tourist restaurants? None of it looks appetizing, but those guys are starving so even plastic food would look great to them at this point. There are 35 snakes in the tank along with those darn toy stars, which are numbered this time, so they must be retrieved in order. Ah, a twist! It's a race between Torrie and LouDi, who grope around in the tank together. The snakes are striking! They’re not poisonous, of course, just unpleasant. One seems to be sunning itself on top of the tank, its head jutting right in their faces, completely unperturbed. It’s got to be a prop.
LouDi capers all over, falling on his knees, putting his whole body in it, as per. He wins by one second. Torrie wants to cry. I don’t blame her. "It’s getting too repetitive here," she wails—speaking for the viewers as well.
Back at camp, J-Dick takes the bad news lying down, for a change. The girls placate teary Torrie: Pasta's fattening, we don't want that, do we girls? Who said the Sisterhood was dead?
Back to Damien. He tries to assure us that the battle for king and queen is really heating up. He is not convincing.
Back to camp. J-Dick wants “booby”, aka Sanji, to put guy-liner on and of course he happily complies. The others shake their heads and start to gossip sotto voce. "He looks very gay when he’s doing that," Long Tall tsk-tsks to Patti. "It’s not attractive to women," she tsk-tsks back. Long Tall complains in the confessional that Sanji goes "from being smooth Mac Daddy around Holly"—cut to Sanji telling Holly mid-massage, "You can actually sit on me if you need to," HAH!—"to not being Sanjaya around J-Dick." Not being Sanjaya meaning, you know, behaving like a prancing wood nymph.
Holly quietly confronts her crush. "I feel like she like wants you to be really gay or something," she says. "A lot of people want me to be their gay best friend," Sanji explains, "but I don’t like guys, so it really confuses people." No kidding. In the confessional, Sanji explains away his girly affectations: He was raised by women. So was Jack Nicholson, bro. We cut to Sanji, under heavy gaydar scrutiny, making the world's most awkward attempt to macho-up to Torrie. J-Dick delivers her verdict on the gay/not gay thing with one word: "Please."
A rain drop pelts the clueless tree frog on the head. I think that’s code for DENIAL!
Time for the immunity trial: It’s a hands-up-over-the-head again, something to do with standing on a plank over a muddy pool holding a pole and a box filled with slime. Stevie B. opts out, he wants to leave his fate in God's hands. He said America's hands, but, same thing. Have you ever known a reality competition show that was so sloppy with the rules? No wonder nobody's watching.
The rest step up. J-Dick doesn’t last a nth of a second and gets duly slimed and slopped. "I tried," she lies. She doesn't give a damn about winning any immunity trial—her ass is covered by The Gay Nation. Torrie starts giggling uncontrollably—I think she's flashing back to Sanji's pass at her earlier—and she's out. Long Tall starts up with the trash talk—"my strategy!"—and instantly gets his comeuppance. Sanji throws it, LouDi wins immunity, the sun rises in the morning and it goes down at night.
It's movie time. And it is godawful. LouDi, however, is rapt—so engrossed, he gets some popcorn stuck in his chin-stubble. He starts pulling the most creepy, insane expressions, looking exactly like Reese Witherspoon when she pulls that devil-face in Cruel Intentions. LouDi is psyched. He'll start shopping that thing around the minute he gest home, no doubt about it.
We're live. Myleene announces that John has "a very, very difficult decision to make." He gets to pick one person to be exempt from the vote, including himself. Myleene says, "You have 20 seconds starting no—“ “Myself,” he interrupts. Best team player indeed. "I came here to win," he declares. And good for him. You don't win shows like this by being benevolent to your fellow players. The ones who are always get screwed.
We're given the numbers to vote. I can’t help it. I vote for Janice.
photos courtesy of NBC; Reese Witherspoon courtesy of The Jay.
