The Bachelor Review

All right, so I will cop to having watched this show religiously about 40 seasons ago.  For a brief period about six years ago, it was a watercooler show at my law school.  Plus, trashy TV is my secret guilty pleasure (yep, I watch the Hills).

BUT.

And that is a BIG BUT.

This show has devolved from an insipid way to pass the time to something that they should show prisoners in Guantanamo to make them give up their secrets in order to make it stop.

The premise is as follows:  a douchey, generically attractive man (though not always...see, e.g., Bachelor Bob, who was purportely cast for his personality in spite of the fact that his personality was not good) who claims that he is looking for true luv is cast as the epymonous Bachelor.  He is sent to a Gorgeous! Mansion! where he will date Twenty-Four! Beautiful! Women! to find the alleged soul mate.  Half of the women will be needy, clingy, desperate "old maids" who feel they have to get married before their implants burst.  The other half are wannabe actresses that will attempt to parlay their stint on the show into a brief career hosting infomercials with Ron Popeil or Amazing Discoveries Mike (the one with the sweaters).  The Bachelor will then proceed to get to know the women by hanging out in a hot tub with them, making out with them, and going on stupid themed staged dates.  The scenes are interspersed with interviews with the Beautiful!Women! and the Bachelor, during which they talk about all the "connections" they have made with each other.  At the end of each episode, he weeds out the ones that won't put out...er, the ones he did not feel a "connection" with...during a ceremony that every week, every season, is billed by the host as THE!Most!Dramatic!Rose!Ceremony!EVER!  At the end of the season, the Bachelor is expected to propose to his final choice, a decision that is largely inconsequential since onlly one of the "Bachelor" couples is still together, in spite of the fact that that Bachelor, Bass Fisherman Byron, was assaulted by his chosen Beautiful!Woman!, the openly desperate Mary.

So anyway, I had largely forgotten that this show existed, until my sister visited and insisted that we watch.  The chosen Douche/Bachelor for this season is a very tall British guy who did a stupid Austin Powers impression at the top of the episode, making me hate him instantly.  The only contestant who is mildly memorable is some blonde girl, who confesses that her father is famous.  Who is this famous father, you might ask?  Why, Lorenzo Lamas!  Formerly of a cameo in Grease and some crappy syndicated show, lately of...nothing.  She reassures British Douche that she is not on the show to further her acting career and that she feels a...wait for it...connection with him.  He thinks that's brilliant.  In fact, he thinks that everything is brilliant, and tells us so frequently.  It's sort of like if an American Bachelor just kept calling everything awesome.  You can't fool us with your British-speak, British Bachelor D-Bag!  Anyway, the other women just sort of glom together in an indistinguishable blob of silicone, shrieking, and sobbing.

This show isn't even campy fun any more.  It is just patently ridiculous.  And yet, like a bad case of herpes (which people on this show undoubtedly get from each other), it keeps coming back.  Thanks a lot, ABC.