Why would we spend valuable time analyzing The Bachelor New Zealand at all?
It seems that an inevitable outcome of manufactured television these days is manufactured conflict.
Come on, now. Have you ever watched one of those seasons of Survivor where they all get along and cry when someone gets voted off the island? There’s a certain incongruence in that.
I respect you so much as a person but can you please leave because you are in the way of my money
Now, into episode 8 of The Bachelor New Zealand, the cattiness has set in.
Art manages to pull off the chilled-out oblivious suitor (refer his faux surprise when Dani mentions other girls turning on her after she’s spent more than her quota with him). In the other corner, girls pretend to co-operate with each other, whilst their inner fishwife screams relentlessly:
That slut. I will expose her. I’ll show you Art. I will expose the whore, to contrast my own purity and excellence
God it’s all so misogynistic. Even the girls hate women.
It highlights the idea that women can only win a competition by scratching each other’s eyes out.
Now there’s a diving competition. I can almost not watch. Not because of the awful form, but because these girls are gleefully trying to garner Art’s approval.
I fancy that the show will get real soon, and the diving pool will be filled up with baked beans or jello, or something equally slippery and moist and Art will be able to throw selected specimens straight in and stand there with a clipboard, ticking off leg length, fightability and stamina.
Just like these two. The original Krystal.