The Real Housewives of Miami
After last week’s recap, one of the commenters asked, “Why do the Housewives have to mix together?” using Dr. Nicole, Heather Dubrow, and Leah McSweeney as examples of women who are interesting enough that they don’t need to be shown with the rest of the cast. I’m not going to answer that question; I’m just going to direct the commenter to this here episode. This is the reason why the Housewives need to interact. Not just because it’s an ensemble show, but most of the best moments in franchise history happen when the women are together. What’s the most memorable thing about RHOM before this? Adriana clocking Joanna Krupa at a lingerie party at Lisa’s house. (That’s No. 95 on the 100 most memorable Housewives moments of all time.)
Sure, there are a few exceptions (Sherée Whitfield’s “Who Gonna Check Me Boo” and Kim Richard’s chicken-salad recipe immediately come to mind), but we watch these shows to see the interactions between the women. It’s the difference between Guerdy planning a fundraiser to honor her brother, which was just a bunch of boring people sitting around a table, and what happens when Alexia calls her on the phone to talk about her wedding. Frustrated with the process, Alexia calls to tell Guerdy that she’s found a venue. We can see that Guerdy is relieved, that Alexia might be blaming her for her stress, and that something will happen from this.
Cut to Lisa’s pajama party, which is sort of like a lingerie party except Joe Francis was there and Adriana left her Krav Maga training at home. There, Marysol confronts Guerdy and says that Alexia is stressed out because she doesn’t know what her menus or her seating cards will look like, which is making Marysol stressed, so Guerdy needs to figure it out. Guerdy responds by telling Alexia that her venue fell through, and they’re back to square one. Suddenly there is tension; there are stakes. Across the room, Dr. Nicole knows about the venue, and she’s telling the other women, and they’re all avoiding what could become a heated confrontation.
Instead, Alexia just gets sad. She’s saying it’s like the world is trying to stop her from getting married and what we know happens in the future makes that statement even sadder. Alexia says she wants all the details of her wedding nailed down because Gringo Todd is pressing her to just go to the courthouse. Alexia. Girl. Just elope. Trust me. Everyone should elope. This is the age of the great elopement because trying to plan something in advance with all of the variants and mandates and vaccine requirements and Fauci Fatigue (I just made that up) is a fool’s errand. Go to the justice of the peace and have a party in a year for your first anniversary. Just like Obi-Wan Kenobi was for Princess Leia, it is your only hope.
For me, the conversation between Alexia and Guerdy is the heart of the episode. That and the truth-or-dare game that followed where Julia had to feed a member of the group an almond using only her mouth. It ends with her sucking face with Lisa, which was not only strangely erotic but also pissed Adriana off because Julia doesn’t pick her to make out with first. She is then accused of being “sloppy seconds” and calls Julia a “traitor” for picking hostess Lisa over her. This is the kind of petty drama and scintillating shenanigans I signed up for, not Julia cleaning goat poop off her children’s shoes.
This whole thing happens at what is an extended infomercial for the Faena Hotel in Miami. Lisa “rents” a $50,000-a-night penthouse at the hotel (the largest penthouse in the U.S., as the marketing copy — I mean, sorry, the show — wants us to know), which is where they have this slumber party for all of the women. They also attend the erotic cabaret at the hotel’s theater, where Lisa is invited up onstage. “Broadly, what is the definition of fetish?” the emcee purrs into her ear.
“Fetish is those women right there,” Lisa says. Um. No. Is she drunk? Does she not know what fetish means? She at least has the reality star’s impulse to bring everything back to the production that they’re currently filming, but everyone in the audience must be thinking, “Does this woman have coconut LaCroix for brains?” That’s not fetish. It’s not even close to fetish. It’s not like any of them have a whip. I don’t think a single one of these women has even seen a Fifty Shades of Grey movie, even though you know Marysol watched 365 Days on Netflix, and it got her real hot.
Seriously, what else did this episode have to offer us? The women alone are boring. Lisa takes her kids to the Sugar Factory, which seems to be both a candy store and a nightclub, question mark. This is the most Miami thing ever. They have chicken fingers, onion rings, and alcoholic milkshakes, but after 9 p.m., they turn the lights down and there are strippers of both sexes in edible thongs trying to separate you from your $1 bills and possibly your spouse of 20 years. The best part of this scene is Lisa’s son yelling, “Chicken fingers right now!” repeatedly, which is honestly something you will hear in my house at least once a week.
Dr. Nicole’s boyfriend, Anthony, flies Julia, Martina, and some dude who makes sure he won’t crash to lunch in Key West, and it’s cute enough, but nothing happens. Even though this is them together, it fails to ignite. We did get a little sideflash of Julia saying goodbye to her 15-year-old daughter, one of the most gorgeous creatures we have ever seen on Housewives. Forget the Hadids. The Lemigovas are the next supermodel clan.
Oh, and let us not forget (or actually do forget) Larsa’s jewelry shoot, where we don’t see any shooting or any jewelry. Larsa and Lisa both continue to give me absolutely nothing this season, mainly because their personal stories are boring, and they won’t mix it up with the women when they’re all together. Like Boris Johnson and Prince Andrew, it is completely baffling that either of them is still employed.
The one scene of a Housewife alone that is worth making it into the episode is Dr. Nicole’s meeting with her long-lost father, Miguel. Well, he wasn’t long lost. He was just long lost to her, sort of like how Michael Stipe lost religion, but it never stopped opiating the masses. Just as Nicole starts to get into it with her dad, who arrives clearly under the influence and leads her to believe that he may have fathered even more children than she knew about, we get a big fat “to be continued.” You tease me with the beauty of Dr. Nicole’s ruffly shirt dress and an honest confrontation with her father, and you leave me on a TBC? This is why we need Housewives interacting. At least in most cases if we get a TBC, we know there is at least about to be a punch thrown at a lingerie party.