18 posts tagged with Real Housewives of New York City

Ok, folks, we have a problem. That problem is named Kelly Killoren Bensimon, and she’s screwing up my mojo. Not that Real Housewives of New York City hasn’t been slowly driving me crazy for the last month, because it has. Kelly just makes it worse.

Not only does nothing come out of her mouth that ever make any sense, but I also am so full of seething disdain for her that I can barely see straight when she talks, let alone take notes or organize a recap or think thoughts other than “My god, MAKE IT STOP.” Since this part of the reunion was mostly about Kelly, trying to mold everything that happened into a series of rational paragraphs ought to be interesting. Won’t you join me one last time? (more…)

Move along, folks. Nothing to see here. Real Housewives of New York City? What? Didn’t that already end? No, no it didn’t, because Andy Cohen is personally trying to suck me into a whirring, spitting vortex of Housewifery that will likely leave me, well, in whatever sort of condition that Kelly Bensimon is currently in. Whatever you call that. That’s what he’s trying to give me.

The topics during this portion of the reunion were slightly less varied and scattered, so this recap is going to be Original Recipe instead of Extra Crispy. After the jump, we’ll try to figure out who the viewers hate more – Jill or Kelly? (Actually, that’s a lie, there’s no way we can figure that out. It would be like finding Jimmy Hoffa’s body or something.) (more…)

And so our long national nightmare is over. The televised lobotomy known as Real Housewives of New York City came to the close of its third season last night, and it was as anticlimactic everyone sort of knew it would be. The episode actually had nice moments, and we know that’s not supposed to happen. There is no room for positivity or sanity in Real Housewives, sort of like there’s no crying in baseball.

A bunch of random stuff happened and none of it was connected. It’s hard to write about stuff that’s mostly non-narrative, but because it’s my job and I’d like for it to continue to be my job, I’m going to give it a the ol’ college try anyway. Why are Housewives finales always so decidedly blah? (more…)

And so, it was over. Not the season, I mean. That’s not over until next week. Just the good part of the season.

In the conclusion of Real Housewives of New York City‘s three-episode insanity tour of Shutter Island St. John, things became somewhat less insane, and it was sort of sad (the reduction in insanity, not the episode itself). We knew that this storied period in Housewives history had to end, but that doesn’t mean that any of us wanted to see it go. Except for Kelly Bensimon, of course. And probably Jill. (more…)

Normally when we talk about the Real Housewives of New York, we say that things went off the rails at some point during the episode. The show usually starts out ok and then ends up not ok, and that means that there was some sort of narrative arc which involved a progression from normalcy to insanity, through some sort of logical (well, usually logical) chain of events.

Well! There was no such thing last night. When the episode started, things were already firmly off the rails and they continued to careen further and further down a metaphorical embankment into a fiery crash at the bottom of Kelly’s life-ravine. It had the sort of wild-eyed, instantaneous chaos that comes with any good explosion, but it also had silly fake photo shoots and dreams of Bethenny butchering Kelly with a butter knife, and that made it even better. If you thought nothing could be more insane than last week’s episode, well, Kelly would like to disabuse you of that notion. (more…)

Everyone was drunk last night. Wastey-face, sorority-girl, spring-break-at-Panama-City-Beach, puke-on-your-own shoes drunk. Well, except Bethenny, because she’s pregnant. And Jill, because Jill wasn’t in the episode (at all!). But all of the other Real Housewives of New York City were tossing drinks back like they had just gotten done with finals.

They drank and ate, ate and drank, and then they yelled at each other and revealed some latent lesbian tendencies. Ramona danced her middle-aged white lady jig during what she called “turtle time,” and then there were some Hooters girls. As intensely alcoholic as the whole thing was, I would have picked their booze cruise over LuAnn’s awkward, slobbery date with a manchild any day. I mean, it looked like he had highlights. (more…)

WELL. Last night’s episode of Real Housewives of New York City was really something, wasn’t it? It was almost entirely without plot or narrative, and instead of actually having a story, the housewives simply went from party to party, yelling at each other in various combinations and about various things.

So here’s where we stand: Alex and Bethenny still hate Jill, Jill hates Alex but misses Bethenny, Bethenny resolved her hatred of her father right before he died, Jill hates Ramona for not telling her about his death, and LuAnn desperately wants someone to hate her so that she can have a plot line again. Oh, yeah, and we got a new housewife. Another one. (more…)

The Real Housewives of New York City just aren’t much for subtlety or tact, are they? Last night’s episode was all about messages delivered badly, and when these women screw something up, they go whole-hog, so to speak.

Whether those messages came from soulless gossip bloggers, toothless psychics or Alex, blinded by rage and on a kamikaze mission to humiliate Jill publicly, they were all delivered with a lack of finesse that would have been more startling if only we didn’t already know these awful people so intimately. And, for once, none of the verbal diarrhea came from Ramona. In that regard, last night’s episode probably counts as a minor miracle. Someone get the Pope on the phone. (more…)

Last night’s episode of Real Housewives of New York City was so scattered and unfocused that I’m having a hard time figuring out exactly what happened. Well, other than Bethenny getting engaged. We know that that happened and thankfully, the cameras weren’t there to witness and record it for posterity. That made me oddly happy – she may have taken a pregnancy test on camera, but at least she got proposed to behind closed doors.

Other than that, there was the usual sniping, gossiping, back-biting and lunching. Various sets of housewives ate and/or drank together in various settings, and then they all met up with different housewives in order to eat and/or drink more and discuss what had been said in their previous conversations. These people talk so much about what they say to each other that I’m beginning to question whether or not they actually do anything. They just talk, and then they talk about talking. (more…)

Wait, so, I missed something. We got a new housewife, Sonja Morgan (yes, she divorced a descendent of JP Morgan) last night, and I had no idea that she was coming. At any rate, she’s here and she seems like a total crazyperson, which is exactly what I like to see. She spent half of her intro talking about how important sex is to her, and then we found out that she has an elevator. Not in her building; in her townhouse. Excellent. She will do just fine.

Beyond that, there were various and sundry other sorts of bizarreness all crammed into one episode: LuAnn on a rickshaw, Bethenny laying on the floor of her bathroom after finding out she was pregnant, Simon running around in his underwear in a clothing store. Oh, and there was also the little matter of Ramona’s already-famous runway walk of insanity… (more…)

After last week’s Housewife Smackdown of epic proportions, I really assumed that this week’s episode would be boring in comparison. It’s rare that there’s any kind of successfully sustained narrative arc on this show when genuine drama is involved, but Real Housewives of New York City managed to deliver last night, even if it was mostly off of the power of the previous episode’s big confrontation.

Sure, other things happened, but I’m not really sure what they were. The Bethenny vs. Jill kerfuffle has turned into something of a black hole of Bravolebrity drama, sucking in everything within a certain perimeter and making it irrelevant to those that are observing. LuAnn wants to have a cocktail party. Some people picked some models. Kelly continued to be really interested in Kelly. No one really cares about any of this stuff, and it seems like they just broadcast it in order to give the 15 minutes of weekly verbal mud-wrestling a modicum of context. (more…)

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