Tempers flared last week, when Tony’s boat ride turned into a Leonard DiCaprio movie, complete with a crappy portrait of the leading lady.
And four more guys went home, leaving three average Joes, three hunks, and two more weeks until we find out if a beauty queen can find happiness with a tattooed concrete contractor from Cleveland.
As I said, this show has lasted longer than the Fillmore Administration, and Larissa is running out of bikinis. Hawaii is running out of nature. The producers are running out of ideas. Good thing they rented Mrs. Doubtfire and Shallow Hal last week.
Say hello to “My Big, Fat, Obnoxious… Momma!”
It’s common knowledge, apparently, that men make judgments about women based on the attractiveness of the mom. Good news for the Bush twins, bad news for Chelsea Clinton.
And, in this case, bad news for Michael. The man has no control over the words that come out of his mouth. But you knew that already.
Larissa is going to get into a fat suit and present herself as “Larissa’s Mom.” The show opens with a quick speed-editing of Larissa getting all dolled up to be Jabba the Mom, while the guys discuss what the meeting might be like. They expect ‘Mom’ will like them. Moms always do.
But, here’s the twist: Little do they know, when the meeting is over, they will be filmed by hidden cameras!
“Little do they know.”
Reflect on that. These guys have been in the mansion for weeks; TV cameras have followed them everywhere. They have to deal with producers and assistant producers and directors and gaffers and grips and Foley artists and fluffers and craft service people and limo drivers and “production assistants.” Let’s guess that there are 100 people running around this mansion with lenses sticking out of their shoulders at various times.
So, hey, they might be on camera.
Little do they know.
M O R O N S ! ! ! ! !
OK… so we see the opening sequence. And I get to say: “Aw Phuc, I miss Phuc. This show just isn’t the same without a good Phuc. And now, the producers don’t give a Phuc. And there was nobody who could make Larissa glow like a good strong Phuc.”
Can you tell I’m unhappy with the remaining cast? … Don’t even get me started on missing David.
The episode really begins with glass-blowing, which is rather uninteresting except that the hot glass looks like fiery boogers, and they have no idea what to do with it. Larissa teases Michael into make some blob thing, while Gil and Jim stand around flexing their hypothalamus.
Gil corners Larissa and wants her to tell him something she hasn’t told the other guys. I wanted her to point out his hideous skin, but she counters by asking him to tell her something. He admits he has a wall in his head.
Larissa then thrusts herself on Jim, whom she calls affectionate, and then tells him she has a crush on him before she tries to swallow his tonsils.
Larissa has to choose someone to take on a “date,” and Michael convinces her with the logical argument that he needs to dig himself out of a hole. (Hey, Idjut: You dig in to a hole. You climb out.) Sadly, this “serious side” Michael convinces Larissa to take her hand out of Jim’s pants for a few hours. She says Michael needs a shoehorn to get his foot out of his mouth, and inexplicably gives him another chance.
Cut to the Mauna Kea Volcano, where virgins have been sacrificed for centuries, and Larissa needn’t worry. There’s no lava, but there is a pretty view. The sun is going down, the clouds are going down, the ratings are going down, Larissa is going down, the ratings are going up…
Excuse me. I was wandering. This is really, really boring. I bet it is beautiful to see live, but it is boring television. They wish upon a star, they kiss in silhouette; it’s a real Hallmark moment. Larissa says something about balancing on his ying-yang, but that’s about it.
We cut to commercials, and I contemplate tuning out until the final episode. Why not? The rest of America has.
When we return, Larissa is exploring lava tubes with the regular guys, Brian, Tony and Fredo. They go crawling through scary caves, lit by 1,000,000-watt TV lights, until they reach a Tiki Idol on a pedestal in the middle of a cavern. No one wants to touch it, thinking it’s going to blow up. Naturally, this one is not booby-trapped. It’s just a cast off Survivor prop with a note telling Larissa to take somebody on a date.
So now the Average Joes get some one on one. Fredo tells her he’s scared of her, Brian tells her he almost quit the game, and eventually gives her a chaste little kiss. Tony talks about art, and is still upset about the boat sabotage. Larissa thought it was funny, and thinks Tony needs to lighten up. Personally, I think he needs eyebrows.
She chooses Fredo. I thought Fredo would have been a good choice for the rowboat on the lake, but “Fredo sleeps with the fishes” works for me, too.
Before they go off to snorkel with manta rays, Fredo tells Larissa about a disastrous previous white trash relationship where the psychotic married woman was completely at fault, and Larissa gets all sympathetic.
The two eventually get in the plankton-infested water with the rays, despite Larissa’s fear of being eaten. Rays drift past gracefully, violins swell, and the two snuggle on the deck of the boat. Awww.
But wait! Now we’re gonna get nasty! Don’t forget, after the commercials: Attack of Big Momma!
When we return, Larissa says this experience has taught her a lot about not judging people by first impressions. She now prefers to wait until she sees them displace all the water in the hot tub before banishing them. She wants to know if the guys are guilty of making the same shallow judgments she did.
Cue the mission impossible music, call in the Hollywood special effects team. Larissa gets measured, prodded, slathered in goop. We get about 15 minutes of Larissa being lathered in latex, but that’s not as interesting as it sounds. False teeth, glasses, wig, contacts, and big hairy moles… Larissa looks like crap. Cue the best friend and the stunt double to convince the guys.