The angry grunge soundtrack on loan from the Smithsonian for America's Top Nirvana Bassist has been reallocated to fill some holes in the action, not to mention some holes in the hearts of the rest of the top model candidates, still in mourning over the heartbreaking loss of -- wait, what was that girl's name again? -- Sara. That's right. Sara. Such a sad passing is commemorated with the usual sepia-toned flashbacks of last week's Domo Arigato Mister Eliminato (still casting around for a good nickname for that right of passage), where -- wait, what was that girl's name again? Oh, yeah, Sara -- tearfully hugs the other girls while they wail and beat their chests like extras at a Khomeini funeral street scene.
Up in the ZoLoft, the girls continue their difficult slog through the post-death ritual, following the rigorous strategies and methodologies of other cultures that have experienced loss: Christians attend a wake and a funeral. Jews cover the mirrors and eat a brisket. Yoanna does leg lifts on a yoga mat. Well, I guess it looks like everyone is better. Hey, you guys? Let's never grieve again.
"I recently lost a lot of weight," Yoanna tells us in a voice-over after we're conned into thinking she's still crying about Sara in a confessional where she's clearly crying about being called a big fat hoss when she was twelve. "I might feel a little uncomfortable with my body, and I don't want that to be a reason that I would ever get eliminated." This admission is accompanied by a few snapshots of Yoanna, whose progression from a not-so-fatty (source: The World) to a not-so-skinny (source: Nigel Barker) also appears to have taken Yoanna on a journey through several other ethnicities, and at least one picture that indicates that she might, in fact, have spent some time as Janeane Garofalo.
Meanwhile, patching up old plot holes like old John's jalopy with a puncture in its tire, we revisit, like, a hundred weeks ago (oh, fine, three), when the girls were visited by a hippy-dippy psychic who, like, told them that they all liked being pretty. Oooooooh! If you were to ask my Ouija Board if I were totally amazed by her brilliance and acumen at accessing the ephemeral whims of the spirit dimension, I would not at all manipulate the direction of the pointer as it made its way over to "Yes." Camille remembers Dr. Fake Science and her Notes From The Otherworld, noting in a confessional, "The psychic who came to our house told us, 'Camille, you're not going to win this competition unless you open up and you become friends with people.'" To which, at least until this point, Camille had really stuck to her talking points of "Yeah, not so much going for the America's Top Buddy Wrangler thing, thanks." But I guess the oddly edited time elapse between the visit of the psychic and the revelations of right now really gave Camille some time to think. About herself. Ah. How she has grown: "I've never been a person to take up a friendship with anybody, but I'll do whatever it takes to win." At least, that's what I think she says. Other mumbled variants include, "I've never been a person to make up a friendship," "I've never been a person to take off my friendship," or "I've never been a person with an Easy-Bake Oven." If it's the last of those, my dear, I pity you. Because those cupcakes? Are ice cold. In a good way. Not in a cold way.
“ Mercedes has just about had it with all of the fun Yoanna has with phonics, deciding it's her turn to lunge for the Tyra Mail for a change. She reads it in an excitable vocal tone I would describe as 'Lupusissimo,' if, indeed, I knew what it all meant at this late date. ”
A montage of Yoanna and Camille having words in the past somehow shoehorns Mercedes into looking like she's been standing nearby a lot, so it makes perfect sense when suddenly she's the United Nations peacekeeping force in the constantly festering war between Yoanna (who for the logical completion of this metaphor we'll call "India") and Camille, who for the logical completion of this metaphor, we'll call "batshit crazy at every turn." Just kidding. We'll call her "Pakistan." And, oh my goodness! Just like those two warring nations, these girls are also often fighting about cashmere! ["Oh, Mullen. How did you get in here?" -- Wing Chun] Cough. Sorry. But Mercedes doesn't want to be in the middle, either (I'm confused about whether she's a diplomat, a multilateral army, or Hans Blix), telling us, "I'm not playing peacemaker, but I want all the arguing and bickering to stop." Well, dear, that's because you're on the show, and we're watching the show. We want petty bickering. And maybe a little casual hair-pulling. And a circular steel cage match in which two enter and Yoanna leaves. Sitting on a couch in the living room of the ZoLoft, Yoanna shares with Mercedes, "I pray for Camille at night." But then God is all, "Well, she looks good on the photo shoots, but she has really got to work on that attitude!" Because that's what everyone says. Mercedes responds (to Yoanna, not to Our Lord And Savior, as might be indicated by the above exchange), "She wants to talk to you. You know that, right? You never know, she could be a good person." Yoanna volleys that she never thought Camille was a bad person, because her recent gleeful iteration of "she's a witch" obviously means something different to Yoanna than it does to us in these more sensitive, post-Salem Trials time. Yoanna adds, "I don't think she's felt the love that she's needed," and Mercedes finishes the thought by Hallmark Network-ing the place up a bit, completing the thought, "Especially by you." Well-spoken but ultimately ineffective. I guess, in the end, deep down inside, we're all just a little Hans Blix, aren't we?
Mercedes has just about had it with all of the fun Yoanna has with phonics, deciding it's her turn to lunge for the Tyra Mail for a change. She reads it in an excitable vocal tone I would describe as "Lupusissimo," if, indeed, I knew what it all meant at this late date: "It's time to head to Heidi's, Gisele's, and my house." The rest of the girls run around screaming because, as Yoanna confessionalizes, "We're actually going to get to meet Gisele and Heidi Klum." First, for those of who didn't read up on the post-Titantic love life of Leo (and which also means that we have nothing in common), "Gisele" is the model-y fun times first name of supermodel Gisele Bundchen. Heidi Klum rhymes with "log flume." For those of you writing Supermodel! The Musical who needed help getting started. Second of all, let us now take the time to revisit Yoanna's thrilled confessional from moments back: "We're actually going to get to meet Gisele and Heidi Klum." Heh. Suckers.
“ Camille: 'Actually, I got chosen out of 6,000 girls.' Tyra throws her head down on the table and there is a general 'oooooooh' around the room reminiscent of the one time in junior high someone told a teacher to shut up. ”
Janice expresses a desire to "slap that woman's face" when watching the rude lady at Mercedes's go5see, and Tyra tosses of a quick "and you'd be homeless and jobless" before returning to the matter at hand. They like Mercedes's pose at the photo shoot, but Eric objects to her "normal" face. Tyra is concerned that she's too "commercial." Giannini notes that she's "commercial." Commercials are all, "Mother!"
Camille's clip is...well, not flattering. They ask Camille why she walks like MC Skat Cat is about to appear right behind her and start singing of all things of who makes the money and who likes to smoke, and she tells them assuredly, "This is my signature walk and this is what's going to make me famous." She continues, arguing, "Actually, I got chosen out of 6,000 girls." Tyra throws her head down on the table and there is a general "oooooooh" around the room reminiscent of the one time in junior high someone told a teacher to shut up. Camille argues even then that she was chosen as best in show attitude-wise after the go()sees, but Tyra defends her upcoming decisions by telling her that this one was "separate." And her photos are shite, Tyra telling us that the photographer said she wasn't "in touch with her heart and soul." You know who else hates Camille? Psychics and America.
Yoanna aces the go@#$&&%sees. Her photo is perfect, her body looks great, and Nigel says that it's a side he hasn't seen of her. Wow. She should try "collecting" "some" "more" "matches" from now on.
April is too technical! I can't believe they're trotting this out again. Eric complains that she looks like "a corpse," but Janice has slightly more florid death imagery on hand, noting, "This photograph looks like the batteries died in her vibrator." Can we leave that? Let's leave that.
They all love Shandi. This time, the body works for Nigel. Tyra loves April, but Eric notes that "she's thinking, instead of feeling it." Camille is so done. Mercedes is "too commercial." Gettin' late in the season, people.
Congratulations, Shandi. You're still in the running toward become America's Top Model. As is Yoanna. As is April. Mercedes and Camille will please to step forward. Tyra tells Camille that she is "undeniably beautiful," but that her aggression is becoming a bit of a problem. Mercedes, on the other hand, is there just for her personality. But she's too commercial, in a way that makes Tyra muse, "Will the fashion industry believe it?" Mercedes bursts into tears, so Tyra doesn't prolong it anymore, finishing the sentence only a few tears later, "Maybe the world will believe it." Camille stands stock still for a moment, and then slo-mo hugs a tearless room because nobody cares.
"This is something that I wanted," Camille tells us in crazy close-up. She tells us that she's going to use this experience "to make Camille a better Camille," and as she fades from the Back to the Future photo screen, you can't help feeling that we're already seeing a far better Camille in the absence of any kind of Camille at all.