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Previously on various reality shows: Rob and Amber met, and they formed an alliance, and then they started making out. And then he proposed, and she said yes, and then she won, and then they went away for a while. But they came back to The Amazing Race, where they came very close to winning another million dollars and guaranteeing that no one else would ever talk about anything else ever again. So why not put their wedding on television? I mean, really. You've basically seen everything but their exposed colons at this point, so why hold out on the good stuff? And while we're at it, why not start with a really interminable introductory sequence that looks like it came from a commercial for a Mexican soap opera? I do want to give mighty props, however, to whomever came up with the title Rob And Amber Get Married. Marketing geniuses, I tell you. If they'd named it something like The Survivo-Race Wedding, it would have taken on an oddly unsettling quality, like it's the beginning of a plot to achieve world domination.
We first find our engaged Surviv-o-racers holding hands in a helicopter as it swoops over some brilliant-looking blue water and white sand. There is much giddy smiling. We finally learn that they are visiting the Atlantis Resort in the Bahamas. ["I just saw an ad for the Atlantis while watching a vintage episode of Newlywed Game on the G yesterday (shut up), and�why would you want to go on vacation to a resort named after a civilization that sank into the sea? It's like naming your prop plane 'The Challenger.'" -- Sars] They touch down and exit the helicopter, and are greeted by Colin Cowie, who is resplendent in his bright blue button-down shirt and white pants and looks every bit the island-paradise-based wedding planner that he currently is. Amber interviews that she was thrilled to see him, as he is "Oprah's party planner" and everything. I wouldn't have known that, incidentally. Nor would I have cared, because Oprah lost me somewhere around the part where she started jumping up and down so much. Colin certainly gives off the vibe of being someone's planner of something, though, no matter how little Us Weekly I generally get a chance to read. Rob interviews that his first impression of Colin was, "Colin and I probably wouldn't be going to the same bar." Wait, is that an explosion of wit regarding Colin's possible sexual orientation? Oh, it must be, because of the way Rob adds, "if you know what I mean." Oh, well, now I do. It's nice they could open with one of those moments when he's particularly tooly, just in case you forgot that those moments are not exactly rare. Colin gives them a blustery opening about all the big-time weddings he's planned, and promises that theirs will be "the best." I'm sure all the people whose weddings he planned in the past are happy to know he was holding out on them. He also says that they have four weeks to plan the wedding, which seems like kind of an artificial, reality-show-ish construct, but I suppose there has to be something to make it more suspenseful, or it would just be a lot of eating and tension, and if we wanted that, we'd just be watching Hell's Kitchen.
Colin takes them off to start working on the wedding, but first, he tells them that between now and the wedding, they're supposed to come up with "a couple of surprises" for each other. Rob interviews that when Colin told him that he was supposed to touch Amber's heart and make her cry, he figured Colin was "out of his mind." But in an attempt to prove his sanity, Colin tells them that this is a part of his quest to incorporate the "JDM," or "jaw-dropping moment." And right there, I kind of want to give Colin a JSM, or "jaw-shattering moment." Because...shut up. He's making it sound like the part where they give each other something special is just there to make the spectacle more stunning, which is kind of the opposite philosophy of weddings from the one I have, soperhaps I am not destined to make use of the world's most awesome wedding planners. Who knew?
Rob and Amber and Colin have a seat and start talking about plans. Colin asks how many people they're planning to have, and they say they're looking at 500. Colin dismissively puts the kibosh on this, telling them that the bigger the wedding, "the bigger the production." He also refuses to go along with Rob's laughing insistence that bigger is always better. Or, as Rob says it, "bettah." Colin wants them to keep it somewhere south of 300 people. And how can you argue, really? I mean, it totally makes sense to let your wedding planner declare unilaterally that you will exclude half the people you wanted present for your wedding in order to make the production less complicated. "Dear So-and-So: I would have loved for you to share my special day, but it would have made cake-serving much more complicated. Don't feel obligated to spend too much on my gift!" I'd rather have the 500 guests and pare down the production, Colin. You can see why my wedding would probably involve box lunches.
Colin asks about possible wedding colors, and Amber wants to go with ocean tones, like teals and greens and blues. Colin says this is great, because these colors are big in fashion, as well. That's so super! The fashion world approves of the colors found in nature. What a relief. Clashing would be so unfortunate, and it would have been a big pain if they'd had to dye the whole ocean. They'd have to cut even more people off the guest list! And then Colin really kind of loses me when he gives an interview in which he vows that the wedding is sure to be "fab-u-lous," complete with...snapping. It's so unfortunate to be a caricature of yourself, you know? Just ask...well, actually, ask Rob. He's right there. Anyway, for music, Amber talks about steel drums or a Bahamian choir. Colin's like, "I love the idea of the choir!" You can tell Colin is one of those people who wants you to do what he wants while believing it's what you want, and I don't warm to that kind of "service." Rob begins to look extra-bored when Colin and Amber get into the matter of bridesmaids' dresses, which...I don't blame him. It's not an inherently thrilling area of inquiry. I've worn them. I know.