Let me begin by saying: I’m a big fan of The Bachelor. Yes, it’s unrealistic and quaintly, openly sexist. And yes, the contestants are obnoxious, superficial and as self-satisfied as they are self-unaware. And yes, at almost any given moment you could wipe the excess cheese off the screen and use it to top a million crackers.
Still, The Bachelor, the granddaddy of reality romance shows, still has its charms, twisted as they may be. It’s about loooove. It’s about slow-twirling and slow-dancing and slow-kissing. And it’s proven that, even as we all know the show’s process almost never works, it’s still a fun process to watch. (And, as you’re fond of reminding us, it did work that one time.) The Bachelor is a beast–but a friendly, familiar, benign beast that understands its purpose and never strays from its safe little corner full of candles and roses. I’m truly fond of it. It has been the inspiration of some of my best work, and some truly enjoyable viewing experiences.
But Bachelor Pad, the “game show” you debuted this past summer starring former Bachelor and Bachelorette “stars” competing for love/money/attention/special circles of hell with their names inscribed on the gate, was the worst kind of reality show beast.
And now you’ve got Chris Harrison saying you want to do it again. Another season of Bachelor Pad.
Well, let me be the first to rise up and say: REALLY?
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD OR MEDIOCRE OR EVEN PRETTY BAD BUT IN A FUNNY WAY IN THIS WORLD, NO.
I would say that Bachelor Pad was the BP oil spill of reality TV, but that metaphor doesn’t really work now, because at least BP can say that that was a one-time MISTAKE.
Instead, I’ll say this: Bachelor Pad was the bastard demon spawn of The Bachelor, maintaining some of the DNA but none of the soul of the original as it twisted its ugly horned-head around and around for six horrifying weeks. And you want the devil to get The Bachelor pregnant again next summer. WHY?
From its disgustingly smug contestants to its mind-numbingly stupid challenges to its hours of useless “strategy” drivel to its random, blatantly misogynistic “rules,” Bachelor Pad was an insult and a disgrace to everyone involved, especially us. WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO PUNISH US AGAIN? Do you not understand why the show was so bad? If not, allow me to explain:
In a landscape of Real Housewives and Rock of Loves and Bridalplastys, Bachelor Pad still managed to be the worst, because every moment felt like the haphazard, nonsensical product of a Mistake Machine. The only thing worse than terrible is terrible and LAZY, and that is what Bachelor Pad was. The pie-eating contest. The body-paint date. The kissing contest. The air-plane hangar date. The quiz contest. The dancing contest. All starring an in-group of idiots I’d rather watch get dumped off a cliff than win thousands of dollars or fall in love. My brain never knew whether to barf or cry or go into a survival coma, but there’s one thing it never did: ENJOY ITSELF.
Please, ABC, please do not make another season of Bachelor Pad. If you must, consider adopting some of the suggestions that Carla and I had for rule-changes. But seriously, don’t even bother with those. VH1 learned the hard way not to make another I Love Money, but you don’t have to go down that road. Just DON’T MAKE THE SHOW. It’s that simple.
P.S. Still so stoked about this upcoming season of The Bachelor! No hard feelings, OK?
(Image courtesy of ABC)