Last week’s premiere of The Real World: Ex-Plosion drew 1.26 million viewers, which is pretty terrible for a reality show (Jersey Shore hit nearly 12 million in its heyday) but much better than The Real World’s last season in Portland, which had such low ratings that it’d be kind of embarrassing to mention. It’s probably too early to tell if the show runners’ attempts at reviving this series are working, by having the housemates interact with the (off-camera) producer, showing the filming crew in wide shots, and hiring an actual crazy person to play Ashley. Still, nothing makes for better television than bone-broke desperation, and there is no more desperate a place than a low-rated reality TV show. That said, onto the second episode!
We pick up where we left off: three or four days into the roommate’s stay and already Jenny and Cory have had sex in the confession room. Over the course of the next two nights, their interactions blossom into a jealous, possessive, strangers with benefits relation-ish (no labels), replete with shower sex and a few awkward, immature power struggles over who “wears the pants” (they might as well both be wearing micro-bikinis, to be honest). There is literally a scene where Cory stares dejectedly at his phone, scrolling through pictures FROM EARLIER IN THE NIGHT, reminiscing on when times were good, sad background music included.
On the other hand, Thomas, who I described in last week’s run down as “God’s gift to soaked panties,” turns out to be three girls away from virginity, which, compared to Jamie’s sixteen (BULLSHITTT), freaks him (and all of us) out. Although their expectations of promiscuity differ, you’ll be relieved to know that by the end of the episode, after physically pussyblocking girls from talking to Thomas, Jamie gets him to call her “his girl."
By the way, I get that the premise of the show is all about the cast members' new relationships bumping heads with their old relationships, but it’s starting to get a little silly to repeatedly tell us that the cast members have NO IDEA that their exes; who they frequently talk to, about, and with on the show, will be coming to join them.
Arielle and Jay are the sanest in the house, which means they get next to no relevant airtime, except for when Arielle and her dime piece are walking home through the Tenderloin (come on!) and a couple of douchebags on the street try to get some camera time. Although Cory starts the inevitable fight, Arielle is the one who gets in between them, and later takes down an aggressive, drunk, idiotic Cory as he’s trying to go back outside and fight ‘cuz “I’M NOT FROM THIS SWEET ASS CITY, MAN”. This bad bitch is, though.
Last thing: I get product placement, fine, but I don’t know
a single lucid person who would willingly choose Subway in the foodie capital of
America. What is this, Sub Francisco? Nice pun, Jules.