The Bachelorette AU S1 Ep3

The Bachelorette AU S1 Ep3

The Bachelorette AU ep 3 — 30.09.15


Teaser spoiler idiot-device Sash has a single date with Sam, they tango, maybe they pash. That’s about it. Sam tells him “you make me nervous” which she’s already told him a few times and as everyone knows it’s a line from one of my songs on the Pretty Black album, the song is called “You Make Me Nervous.” I guess it’s nice to know that Sam is a Pinky Beecroft fan but it does slightly irk me that she quotes me without attributing the quote. A lot of people noticed her doing it on night one, and there has been a wave of gossip on the interwebz about what other lyrics of mine she might say as the season progresses. My tip is that she’s a huge fan of the first EP, and that “Make Your Selection, Press OK” is something she’ll slip into a conversation somewhere soon. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, stop reading this now and go google and maybe learn something worthwhile for once in your sad ignorant lives. For the rest of you…. bask in the sunshine. May all your dreams come true.


We’re in The Mansion and the boy-contestants cannot get enough of one another. Although it’s a giant mansion with giant rooms, they’ve chosen to squeeze together onto 1 or 2 couches and this means lots of touching groping. There has been some criticism of The Bachelor(ette) series as some kind of last bastion of white heterosexual male energy but I’m telling you now, there is nothing heterosexual about this bunch — they’re all over each other, hands on each others’ bottoms, nuzzling, cuddling… it’s about as hetero as an AFL dressing-room. Everyone is on E – you can tell by their eyes, and the way they keep giving inane compliments to one another, and high-fiving, and generally talking shit all through the episode. I guess this is a nice change from the mushrooms they were zonked on last week, but frankly I’d like to see one or two of them straighten-up and focus on the bachelorette.


Sasha is the most out-of-it — he gives a rambling speech about something called The Bro Code, something to do with mutual respect – he’s making no sense at all. Nobody’s listening anyway, everyone’s chewing their faces off, you can tell that they all just want to leap on one another and get to it. But they’re all too scared, they’re all pretending to be here for Sam, a girl, and nobody wants to be the first to be filmed giving another guy a blow-job right there in The Mansion. So much sexual tension it’s hard to watch. Quirky Will is wearing a onesie with a pretty ribbon-scarf in his hair, and it’s exactly like in the TV series OZ when that guy Beecher in prison was forced to dress like a girl and have sex with male inmates.


Then OSHER GUNSBERG appears wearing some sort of casual beach-wear cardigan, like he’s dropped in on the show on his day off and it’s all just groovy and he’s just a regular guy, chillin’ in the crib. Like he hasn’t just landed in a space-capsule, like he’s not an alien robot code-named AWKZ-4 with a skull full of wires and blinking lights.


The next two & a half hours are taken up with this mystery: WHO might be going on the single date?????? Well, my wild fucking guess is, it’s Sasha. Given that we saw it on the teaser/spoiler/abomination. But the pretend-mystery gets dragged out, and after endless drumrolls and associated bollocks: it’s Sasha. All the guys are bitterly disappointed – because they find out that the single date is with Sam (the bachelorette) — they were all hoping that the single date was with Michael, and one of them would get to lie naked with him and lick his tattooed biceps. Then the guys puzzle over what the clue might mean. It means dancing the tango, we saw it on the teaser. Yawn.


So the single date, Sam and Sash. I’ll be honest, I’m struggling with Sam. Every single moment feels like an audition for a TV-presenter gig. Her speech to Sash here is so scripted & her delivery so TV that it’s like she’s on Getaway or Better Homes. I want to be more generous, and maybe it’s the fact that the season is new, the cameras are new to her, so she’s nervous. I dunno. It doesn’t look like nerves, from here. It looks more like something else. But I guess we’ll see. Right now she’s in a house with Sash watching two randoms dance the tango. Sash whispers: “Is that what we’re doing?” Sash clearly has the mind of an astro-physicist.


I love the date that involves dancing. It’s close, personal, sexual, they’re forced to look at one another and move with one another. This is a no-brainer to me, and yet I’m amazed we’re here, and not jumping off cliffs or wave-riding or bungee-jumping or doing the idiotic stuff that the Australian franchise is obsessed with. We’re actually doing something interesting that involves chemistry. Hallefuckinglujah. Sam and Sash are marvellously awkward with one another. Sash takes off his shirt, Sam loses her mind, the teacher gets them into it straight-up. They are possibly the worst dancers in history – which is cool, it’s kind of the point. They have a good time messing around. At last they’re talking, and for a moment it even feels like Sash forgets about the other guys back at The Mansion, their hot bodies, and the Bro Code which is actually code for man-on-man group-fucky-fucky.


Speaking of the others, they’re now opening a card which is a group date, and everyone’s going except Alex Perry. Clue is something about taking the lead, it probs involves dogs. Woof.


Sam and Sash take moment to sit & drink & talk about their stepdads. Sash gets emo about his – apparently the man is a champion, and Sash loves him. Sam says she loves her stepdad too but she was horrible to him from the time she was 5 until they had a confrontation when Sam was 11. Six years. Cripes. So they start to bond over their families and it’s nice but then suddenly it’s night-time, and they’re forced to dance the Argentinian tango, and there’s tango music, so they begin, and they’re doing OK – but THEN THE TANGO MUSIC STOPS, and is replaced by awful dribbling piano, and Sam and Sash keep trying to dance but they’re totally confused because yo where’s my beat?! This is so weird. What happened to the fucking tango? WHO TOOK THE MUSIC AWAY? This seems like a horrible joke, and yet neither one of them turns on the crew. They don’t even question it, they just sort of keep trying but it’s all gone to shit and they end up sitting in the corner, embarrassed and sad. Sam says: “I want to be with someone who completely utterly loves me for everything that I am.” I think, well….. OK. Whether Sam loves that person back doesn’t seem to come into it. It reminds me of what she said about her stepdad, who taught her unconditional love because he gave her unconditional love. And now Sam would like some more unconditional love. Whether she’ll be giving any of it back – who knows? Just so long as she receives it.


Sam then gives Sash a rose, and he angsts about kissing her. He’s busting to kiss her, she’s in close, putting the rose in his button-hole. He says later, he was scared to make the first move. I’m so confused right now. I thought Sash was in his thirties, but apparently he’s nine years old. As he stares at her, trembling, Sam leans in and gives him the world’s most perfunctory kiss on the cheek. Cheers luv, see you round. So much for the passion of the tango.


Group date involves dogs — each of the guys is given a dog for the afternoon – supposedly one that matches his personality – and then there’s a photo-shoot with each man posing shirtless with his dog in a rural setting. Allegedly it’s a test of how well the guys can relax and be themselves for the cameras. Isn’t that the whole show? I dunno. I’m sad that it’s in a rural setting. If it were a city challenge, they could do proper doggie stuff, like take the dog into a crowded café and fuck-up everyone’s lives, making the staff (holding hot liquids) and people with hip-problems step over & around their canines. This as we know is a wildly popular Australian sport, more popular in the inner-city than footy or cricket. Or they could go one better and take the dogs on long-leads to the crowded weekend markets – Marrickville on a Sunday for example, where the sheer fuckwittedness of having a doggie on a lead in a crowded confined space appears not to occur to dozens of hipsters each week. I’d like to see half the guys do this, while the other half are given hunting-rifles, and encouraged to shoot not the dogs but the dog-owners, who surely deserve to be wounded and/or killed. I’m sad this is not happening, and I’m sadder still that half this episode is based around a photo-shoot and WE NEVER GET TO SEE THE PHOTOS. Are you kidding? Who is running this show? We’ve had intensive tango lessons leading to a tango performance in which the tango music got taken away. We’ve had a photo-shoot after which we never get to look at one single photo. WAS THERE NO FILM in the camera? What’s next?? How about, instead of casting hetero males who want to woo the bachelorette, we cast a bunch of pussies who can’t summon up the nerve to kiss her and yet can’t stop touching each other’s asses? Oh hang on……….


After the pretend-photo-shoot, Michael Football Pro gets time alone with Sam and it’s the most eerily passionless conversation I have ever seen – it’s like watching two business associates run through a checklist. And maybe that’s what it is. Seriously. Michael: In order to close the deal I need to check items a b and c are in stock and just make sure that the address on the form’s correct.

Sam: yes we have those in stock, the delivery’s scheduled Monday.

I think these two belong together. I really do.


Later there’s a cocktail party, and Sash gets yet more alone-time with Sam. If she gives him a thousand hours, maybe he’ll work up some courage. And he almost does — but he does that thing I HATE where he asks her if he can kiss her. This to me is the ultimate turn-off. From either gender. “I want to kiss you” is surely the lamest thing ever said. No? Just fucking do it, for chrissakes. That’s basically what Sam tells him, so they pash, good-o, yawn. Then Sash says OK I better walk you back to the others. That is, they’re pashing, and he’s thinking about the other guys. Far out.


Kane (is that his name?) decides to rap, at Sam. He’s written a rap-song about her, he delivers it with no musical accompaniment and absolutely no sense of rhythm. It’s so weird it’s fucking fantastic and it’s now clear – everyone’s on party drugs. [Let’s face it, nothing beats cocaine in turning a white guy into a wanna-be rap gangster]. Sam’s rapt. Then Son Of Bret Michaels appears, in the ugliest suit ever worn by a human. It’s shit-brown coloured, it goes with his man-bun. We’re getting pieces-to-camera from him at the same time, wherein he’s rocking a polo-shirt with a mismatched scarf, and the scarf is the same colour as his hair, and it looks so fucking out-there that I pause and take a photo of my TV-screen. I have never done this before. I LOVE THIS SHOW. I know in my heart that SOBM is going home tonight, only because the International War Crimes Tribunal has put out a warrant for his arrest, citing his wardrobe choices as tantamount to genocide. [And that warrant was issued last week, in response to his checked-shirt-&-faux-leather-jacket combo. The ICC hasn’t even seen the freaky shit he’s revealed this week].


Then there’s a rose ceremony and SOBM gets sent away, to The Hague, for trial.


============ ROLL END CREDITS =================

Leave Reply