While Kinetic lounges around a hotel pool and gets spa treatments and massages, Arrow is split into two teams for a dogfight. The team captains are Aaron, who steps up immediately to volunteer, and Michelle, who is selected entirely to cause drama. Amazingly, it does! She chooses Tim, Nicole and Frank for her team, I guess to prove something, as they're her more vocal detractors. Aaron takes James and Stefani; Team Aaron resoundingly destroys their opposition by working smoothly and smartly together. This is especially easy, because the problems with Arrow are obviously all on the other team.
Stefani takes the mic at one point and transforms into a creature like no other and a very savvy, professional lady, and saves the audience from James's Rachael Ray screaming. I think that might have been what won it. Meanwhile, the crazy talk of Weird Michelle interacts with the sullen hateful ignorance of Nicole, the manipulative and cool-kid meanness of Tim, and the fact that Frank still doesn't understand very much of what's going on in a very awful, awesome way, resulting in an amateurish, yucky performance that makes everybody look stupid and gross. Frank and Nicole contain themselves, for the most part, in the boardroom -- a nice surprise -- and then Trump informs the winning sub-team, Team Aaron, that their prize is ⦠nonexistent. Weird Michelle interrupts his pre-BR speech for more crazy talk. Which turns out to be neither crazy nor weird, but kind of the coolest thing in the season so far. Maybe the show period.
She tries to explain to Donald Trump, at length, that this is an appalling cheesy game show, and embarrassing for everyone concerned; he responds that it has something to do with prizefighting. She tells him that she is going to quit and go back to being a successful businesswoman in her own right; he tells her that the grownup world, she will find, is really heartless and cold. She implies that he can go suck a choad; he responds by threatening to fire one of her teammates anyway. She leaves for a quick bitchout by her still-awful teammates (although again Stefani makes an excellent showing); Trump responds by giving them all amnesty. "YAY!" they scream. "We get to live in the yard some more! And be made fools of!" And down the hill Michelle goes, laughing all the way to the bank. Good show!
Last week, we're told, Michelle's team turned against her. Specifically, we're shown, by Tim. Considering that Nicole and Frank give all indication of having wandered onto this show during a studio tour, and James and Stefani are actually nice people, he's about the only one left that matters. Wait, that's only six. Who am I missing? Aaron, that's right. How cruddy! He seems very nice. Maybe he's getting a boring Randal edit? Lord knows I never fully remembered he was alive either. Tim explained that in the absence of an "obvious screw-up," you go with the person you don't like. Which is neither professional nor strictly speaking all that intelligent -- although it's a good example of playing the game and not getting stuck in the lie of this show -- but in this particular case is crazy talk, because there was an obvious screw-up: Nicole gave no indication of having noticed that she was the PM, and let everybody else take charge. But if you're date-slumming to the degree where you would date Nicole in the first place, I guess there's all kinds of things you have to compartmentalize. Don't ask me to diagnose that kind of behavior, or frankly to acknowledge it beyond when the show demands that I do so. In the boardroom, Carey also blamed Michelle, because he is a whole other bag of nuts that A) we don't care about anymore, and B) we...saw. Nicole agreed with him that Michelle was the problem: when Carey railroaded everybody on the team with his horrible idea and she signed off on it because she is an idiot, all of these things were Michelle's fault. She really sabotaged them when she said that the suit was wrong and stupid, that she wasn't weighing in on anything she couldn't back up with research, and implied that Nicole should do her job. Man, what a bitch.
Back at Trump Trailer Park, Frank and Aaron are joking around about how "What if Johnny comes back," and James asks who they mean. Because it's a stupid joke and makes no sense, I see Frank having to explain it a lot more than you might have to about jokes that are closer to the reality of jokes: they call Michelle "Johnny," you see, because "she's just an annoying person." So there you go. Everything Frank says -- and I will grant that he's pretty awesome in this episode, and at least isn't acting out like an asshole -- is like this. "Frankie Suits" and "We call her Johnny because she's annoying." You want the explanation, except do you really? Do you really care? James is full of wonderment about the concept of Michelle coming back, and as Kinetic listens over the hedge, Frank laughs that she should have been nicer to everybody. Betraying the fact, once again, that he has no real idea what's going on. Nicole and Michelle round the corner and Michelle shouts out a hilariously fake, molasses-dripping "Hiiiiii!" with a crazy grin on her face. The outcasts always do that, like their hated existence is somehow vindication: "You hate me! That's awesome!" I don't get it. Tim interviews that everything is very awkward now, and notes that -- as she did last week -- Michelle's going to make some kind of "serious attempt" to fit in with the team, but that this is doomed to failure, because...I don't know. He doesn't like her, so she will never fit in, and that's just the way it is. I have this weird fear that if Michelle were a guy -- Brent, Martin, that douchebag with the champagne sword -- I would probably be on board, but I don't know about that exactly. I hated those guys in a Tim way because they...nope, she's another one of those guys. I am a total hypocrite. Oh well, this show is stupid and I don't actually care. If I met Michelle, I know I would like her, and I would write her passes for her weirdness, and there are plenty of people in real life that I do that for, guys too, so I think it's more an issue of the guys on this show that I want to bully being a queasy mix of weird but also that horrible thing inside that would make you want to be on this show. And as we'll see, Michelle is tied with Derek (and possibly Tim) for remembering that this show is bullshit, which makes me like her more. No, I'm not a hypocrite actually, and this episode explains why: Brent and the other loser, they never figured that one out, in life or on the show, that it's all a game. Play it.
While Michelle watches Arrow fawn all over Nicole, Heidi's coming into the mansion dining room, where Kinetic is having a lovely meal and going around the table and saying what they're thankful for. Mostly it's each other. Marisa's thankful that nobody has noticed the tiny doses of strychnine she's been putting in Heidi's coffee each day, but also for her teammates. Derek's thankful for his very cute orange-and-brown-striped polo; Angela is thankful for her dogs; Kristine is thankful for cover stick; I don't know what the rest of them are thankful for. Aimee and Muna are thankful for being adorable. Jenn is thankful the cameras are completely ignoring her for the third week in a row, because the one thing that was making her nervous about being on TV was the "being on TV" part. Everybody cheers when Heidi walks in, and she gives them a précis on the Carey boardroom: Michelle is the most disruptive, because she "asks too many questions"; Muna cracks that if that's their big worry, they wouldn't last a day on Kinetic, because everybody on Kinetic asks clarifying questions and uses "I" statements and everybody stops and counts to ten whenever their voices rise above a pleasant conversational tone. Everybody laughs and holds hands and frolics around and gives money to charity. Outside, Tim and Nicole are having a mean little meeting about how Michelle is still the problem, because she's "just insane" and "icy cold," and makes Tim "chilly" just by appearing in his mean little scenario. Michelle interviews that the whole Camp revolves around politicking and how you're either in or not. (It's a game: play it.) "You have to learn to play the game, in some weird way," she says. And that one, she's got covered. She plays the game weirder than anybody.
Intriguing Theoretical Question: You've just won The Apprentice. What are you going to do now?
A. Call my family and apologize
B. Get started on that Trumporg project I was promised but never seems to materialize.
C. Dish with Ivanka.
D. Bizarrely, my life has not changed in any substantial way!
Credits, then morning in L.A.: Stefani outside and Derek inside answer the phone to hear that they're meeting at the Loews Hotel on Santa Monica Beach at 0830, even though Kinetic isn't participating. Derek writes something down, but I don't know why. Yes, I do: he's a lawyer and he's conditioned to take notes and often doesn't even realize he's doing it. Quick back-and-forth between Kinetic having leisurely coffee and getting cute, and Arrow's disgusting camp: Frank spitting, Nicole getting in the shower, Aaron tending the fire and shaving using his reflection in the mansion's glass door. That image is particularly heartbreaking. Aaron explains that it's "becoming the separation between the Haves and Have Nots," whatever the hell that means, and James bitches about not having any hot water. Aaron, looking delightful in the morning as usual, explains that it's not so much sleeping outside that's the problem, but getting up in the morning and stepping into cold puddles and wanting a hot shower that will never come. The gross plastic sinks have fallen into disuse and are going moldy. These people. Aaron talks about how the Trump lifestyle has been denied him, yet "dangles" tantalizingly before his very nose. How vivid. Michelle interviews that A) she's fucked and B) they are all getting delirious and crazy, and that if they don't get into that house soon, they are going to lose it. Too late!
Beach footage, to the hotel, where Trump is making small talk with some kind of hotel employee, and he's got Ivanka and DJ both with him this week. I guess Heidi's perks don't include Viceroying this one. Too bad, that could have been awesome. All the Have Nots are wearing dark, depressing, Have Notty clothes that smell bad; Kinetic is a riot of sumptuous and vibrant color that smells like dryer sheets and is cashmere-soft to the touch. Trump jokes about "Kinetic! What are you doing here!" and then sends them off -- in front of Arrow, of course -- for a day of spa treatments and pampering and luxury, all of which will be faked up on camera. My luxurious spa treatment: the angry, sad, jealous faces of Arrow. That is equal to three hot-stone massages and a full pedicure, for me personally. Let's watch it again. Awwww. "I'm seeing too much of you, you're losing too much!" Two separate statements with which I agree, and then Trump threatens that he's about to split them into two teams which will then dogfight. So Arrow is losing this week, no matter what, just as we thought. That bites. Everybody gets worried that they'll have to be on a team with Michelle, because they've managed to drive each other nuts with the Michelle thing and now it's just part of consensual reality that she sucks in some unspecific way. He asks if anybody wants to step up and be one of the two PMs, and Michelle stares silently. Speak, Michelle. Do this right now. Do it! Nothing. Aaron volunteers and Trump finally calls on Michelle, daring her basically to be the other PM. You can almost see the producer whispering into his ear. I hate this show now, it's so cheap and silly and you can see all the seams and where they're stooping to create drama. Of course she takes him up on the offer -- interviewing that he totally cornered her into taking the position -- in a weird-ass way of talking, and they start picking teams.
Her first choice is Tim, of course, because he's the best and because if you get Tim on your side, he'll stop lining everybody up against you. He's the only person on the team you can pick at this point. He rolls his eyes hatefully and looks like he wants to kill himself; it's hilarious. He is the funniest person. Aaron takes James first; they high-five. Michelle takes Nicole , because in for a penny, and she makes her usual sullen, awful, needy, hateful face. Aaron takes Stefani, leaving Frank, who's growing on me for now. "My man from the Bronx," Trump calls him, and notes that it's no good that he's picked last. Somehow it seems like he gets picked last a lot, even though this is the first time he's been picked for anything on this show at all. Trump laughs about how he's okay and they still like him even though he was picked last. He goes with Michelle's group, for reasons we don't know about, and I have to say that this is the sole and precise situation that would make me like him, because he's the only one that's going to be reasonable. (As long as you keep him separate from Nicole, because they will encourage each other's trashiness. And you can't let her be with Tim either, because they'll just snakebite and fuck around to mess with Michelle, and encourage each other's meanness. And you can't have her with Michelle, because she'll openly balk, and they won't be able to converse with each other because they're on opposite sides of some kind of bell curve, and she will fuck it up while looking directly in Michelle's eyes, because she's gross. So really, isn't the common thread -- isn't the problem here -- Nicole? Again?)
Task: Blah blah blah hotels and whatever, people come to L.A. County all the time because blah blah, tourism is a fifty trillion dollar in-dust-ry, whatever whatever segue already. DJ explains that they're going to organize a Starline Bus Tour with a theme, to be judged on creativity, substance, and performance. The measure of success will be a survey of the tourist group that gets the tour. Michelle interviews the high probability that her team will want her to lose this task so they can get rid of her, and so of course the "stakes" are "higher" than they've "ever" been, for Michelle. In this game, that is. (And not to beat the horse, but I can't even see Tim doing that; unless that's what he's doing all through the episode, which is somewhat likely and totally awesome if it's true, because he doesn't even gloat for the cameras, if he's doing it on purpose. If this is really what's going on here, he's maybe the best person to ever play this game, and if not, and he's just having a bad day: Nicole still sucks, because she actually would throw the task just to be a jerk, which Frank is least of all likely to do out of the four of them, because that salt of the earth shtick is still true, no matter how obnoxious it is.)
True or False?
1. Kiefer Sutherland lived out of his car for a short time after moving to L.A.
2. Julia Roberts does not have a star on the Walk of Fame, but does own Mann's Chinese Theatre. She stages Revolutionary War reenactments there with friends on weekends, and is partial to her grandfather's flintlock musket, nicknamed "Old Barty."
3. Telly Savalas is Jennifer Aniston's godfather.
4. Fashion designer Betsey Johnson is a proud member of the Church of Satan, established by Anton LaVey in 1969, the "Year of the Wildebeest."
5. Debra Messing is allergic to both flowers and lamb.
6. Tommy Lee, Jared Leto, Yoko Ono, and a mysterious masked bassist believed to be John Lithgow perform in the Viper Room's basement on Tuesday nights for a select audience under the name "Semi-Homemade with Sandy Duncan."
Answer Key: Odd-numbered statements are true. Now you can lead a Hollywood tour as well as any other untrained, socially retarded millionaire! But not as well as Stefani!
Santa Monica Beach, boardwalk footage, whatever. The two teams discuss this and that about the different kinds of tours there are. James mentions to Team Aaron that they could totally rent some Laker Girls and put them on the bus, because God forbid this show have a single task where female ass isn't one of the props, and he interviews that a Hollywood tourist wants more than anything to be part of something "special," something "big," something "sexy." And what embodies these concepts more than Fly Girls? He calls the Lakers and rents some of them (FYI: two girls minimum per appearance, $85/hour/"girl"), and Stefani interviews that James is a "ball of energy" not unlike a person who has had twelve cups of coffee. "You slingshot him across the street and let him go," she laughs. As they get out of the van, fully brainstormed and unrelated Laker Girls confirmed, James yells that they are "such a smart freaking team" that it drives him "nuts." Not only does his voice sound like Rachael Ray, but he talks the same weird nonsense.
Stock footage of the House of Blues and bassoons of disappointing performance attend Team Michelle, who are having their usual trouble having a simple goddamn conversation. And yeah, a lot of that is Michelle's inability to make sense, but being totally obstructive, which Nicole (again) is, isn't helping. Michelle floats the concept of a "day in the Life of the Rich and Famous": showing landmarks and places they supposedly hang out. I'm not going to pretend to be some kind of L.A. insider or to know anything, so whatever. I assume that the Rich and Famous eat at restaurants and I don't really care which ones those are. Frank likes the idea, because the Life of the Rich and Famous is the secret codename of everything that makes him who he is. That's all you had to say. They ask Nicole about it; she has no opinion. Some more. Michelle explains that her ass, and the line on which it is, is not having this: she can't go with a theme that the team isn't behind 100%. She interviews that she needs consensus this time, because the team is so sneaky and gutless, and "team-manship, in consensus," and it's kind of like the word-pictures that Paula Abdul talks in, sometimes, with Michelle. Frank, understanding where she's coming from because Tim/Nicole is really just one entity with nasty thoughts and a poison heart, speaks up that he is 100% behind it. Tim also likes the idea. Michelle shows her whole hand now, though: "If this ever came up, you would have to say you stand behind the theme?" Show some class. We all know the elephant in the room; the key is to not mention it by name. Never say, "This is how I will fuck you up, right?" Frank interviews that the team-manship concept is weak at best because she's spending so much time asking permission to be PM. "Make a decision and stand behind it, I will respect you more." Word. Although I wonder how much of her talk he discounts out of hand because he's got himself in the mindset that the 10% of her speech that he actually understands is -- coincidentally enough -- the only part of it that matters. This is a really dangerous way to live, and we all do it, but I think that's what is going to get him in the long run. Nicole allows as how, "if you do it correctly," she will love the theme. Meaning that if they fuck it up, she will suddenly hate the theme. I think Michelle is maybe dumber than Frank. That's so sad.
Kinetic's hanging poolside, Surya and everybody looking so super-cute in their lush robes. Heidi sits by the pool in a bathing suit, looking...maybe hotter than anything in the entire universe. The sun is like, "Damn, lady, give me a sec to prepare." I mean it, she's wicked distracting. It's like looking into the purple glow of a tanning bed while angelic choirs sing. Derek does his Shamu impression: beaching himself up out of the pool and onto his stomach at the edge. It's cute, everybody laughs, Angela and Aimee love it. Later, they toast with their morning bellinis and eat delicious breakfast in their robes. Kristine's ongoing skin issue is very scary as she interviews her complete disinterest in whatever horrible BS Arrow is up to. The filming cycle on this show is so short, I wonder if her face is going to clear up before we're done watching this season; I hope so, she's just gorgeous, and her makeup skills take care of most of it, but with all the princess pampering, she's not spending a whole lot of time in makeup. She's the kind of cute that you pretty much overlook it, though. Jenn wonders at the breakfast table what Arrow's doing, and Muna laughs that whatever it is, it's not having breakfast in robes at a lovely hotel. Then they all run off to get massages.
Meanwhile, Aaron's showing more spark than he has to date, talking about the site where the Menendez brothers "whacked" their parents, and what about the Simpson murders? Whoa, little man. Not where I expected him to go. Maybe it's time to reevaluate our Aaron. Stefani's like, "Um, murders? Maybe not?" James brings up showing the locations from films, famous L.A. landmarks like that, and they come up with the theme "Famous Places, Beautiful Faces." Aaron remembers the Laker Girls they already bought, and James starts dancing around insanely. Stefani laughs, and they are like a mini-Kinetic. I have to say, when they were picking teams I was really happy to see these three together -- would have been cooler if Michelle or Tim were on this side so that you could literally ignore the other side altogether, because these three are way more likely to get further in the game than at least Frank and Nicole. I'm not sure why I discounted Stefani earlier -- I think it's the Erin Brockovich thing she does with the clothes and makeup where you are supposed to infer that even though she dresses flamboyantly or whatever, she is super-smart and capable. I don't have a good history with those girls; now I just don't know what she's after. She's awesome and I really like her, but I'm not sure how that indexes with my initial impression of neediness. I've been wrong before, I guess. James interviews that he's feeling GREAT and that he's really EXCITED to showcase what Arrow is ALL ABOUT to MR. TRUMP and that he REALLY BELIEVES that they are going to win. There's a funny, weird moment where Aaron, staring into space, says several times, "This is really really good; I think this is really good." Don't know what he's talking about, or to whom, but it's cute. He's another one we finally get to see shining a little bit more this week, and I'm happy to finally be able to put a face to the name, and vice versa.
Multiple Choice: Choose the best theme for a Hollywood Tour.
A. I'm sure my PM is capable of coming up with an idea just vague and pointless enough to shoot herself in the foot. I'll go with that.
B. Whatever's classy. What part of L.A. looks the most like Vegas? Let's do that. I like fountains and large fake plants, and am especially excited by the outward signifiers of wealth, because they make me imagine that those things are possible without graduating high school.
C. Sights and sounds inspired by the 1991 Bret Ellis novel American Psycho? Or scary bloody murders all over the place?
D. SOMETHING BIG! SOMETHING SEXY! SOMETHING WITH CHEERLEADERS!
E. What did Tim say? I'll go with that.
F. You know what, let me wing it. I am a human encyclopedia of all knowledge and I've got some time to kill before I put on more cheap makeup.
G. I just really think we should do something that has with the spirit of the county and the beach, you know, fresh air and the freedom of to do what you want in an environment without having to be politicking and playing the game, in a weird way.
Answer Key: Give yourself one point for A, two points for B, et cetera.
1. Congratulations! You're a Tim. Don't let anybody catch on, or you're fired.
2. Okay! You're a Frank, or as the boys down at the site call you, "Frankie Suits." People are often surprised by the depth and tenderness of your emotions, because you spend a lot of time screaming your head off in a trashy way. You're like a Cadbury's Egg of sweetness, though, and they're missing out.
3. Well, great! You're an Aaron. Don't let anybody see your secret dark side!
4. Fabulous! You're a James and I need you to calm down a great deal.
5. Let's try that again!
6. Good work! You're a Stefani -- or a "Stefanie," as they call you in the wild -- and I think you're my hero.
7. Well done, my friend. Consider yourself too good for this game, but even more so, really ill-suited to it.
Team Aaron sends James off with a phone to take a tour and he reminds them to pick good landmarks, so as to offer them the best chance at "colorful commentary" on the tour itself. No worries. Stefani lets us know he's also going to survey the tourmates to see how they can improve on the basic setup. We immediately see one thing: the bus driver/tour guide, who's like...I always thought that like the worst possible thing would be to stay up late with Michael Keaton. You know? Like if he got really coked up and you suddenly realized everybody else had gone home or was asleep, and you were suddenly the sherpa for this, the kind of fear that you would feel. "Well, it's 0200 hours and Beetlejuice just came back from the bathroom sniffling. I don't know how I'm going to get through this." And the reason this is so horrible to contemplate is because at around 0400, he's going to keep going and talking, but he's going to be out of steam and he won't know it, but his mouth will keep going, and when it does he will sound and act exactly like this bus driver. Who may well be Michael Keaton on a bender, I couldn't tell you, although it seems not entirely impossible. So he makes these schizoid faces and bad jokes about toupees and how the celebrities that live on such-and-such street hate the star tours and how they love him, the bus driver, "like a ruptured spleen" and he makes a weird, unmoving laugh face like Fire Marshal Bill and it's just like you think. Just bullshit down to the very core of itself. And James is like, Step One: no this guy. "Distasteful jokes," he says in interview, and then discusses with a very pretty girl how nice it would be if she had some Perrier (gross) to quench her classy thirst. Perrier is the Gucci of water: some rich European laughing and saying, "I dare you to like this." Is this season actually like something they discovered in the vaults? "What did you do this weekend?" Went to Spago, drank some Perrier. "How classy! Did you see Knots Landing this week? Michael Keaton was really good."
Aaron says on the phone that they are going with "Perrier and popcorn," which is somehow hilarious, and meanwhile Kinetic is being boring and luxurious. Marisa assumes this totally bizarre, hilarious voice, like she's doing her own impression of Shamu as a cartoon maître d'hôtel: "How...are the mojitos?" Everybody laughs hysterically, in several discontiguous edits, and they get massages and Heidi continues to look hot and it seems like every single female member of Kinetic has about six tattoos on her legs for some reason, and Marisa interviews -- as we watch them sleeping by the pool -- about how this time off is not going to slow them down, because they're feeling very strong and positive. I think the show's trying to set up some kind of thing later where Michelle should let the team sleep, but it also makes her team look like dickless freaks, so I don't know. Mixed narrative messages.
Speaking of! Michelle and Tim go driving around Hollywood, just the two of them, picking out their planned route, and Tim is being totally nice and awesome and following her orders. To the letter. She tells him to watch the street go by and note down points of interest ("strip club... ") and she interviews about this process as they drive. After she spots like her eighteenth massage parlor (ha!), she finally speaks up. "This isn't feeling like the Lives of the Rich and Famous to me," she says quietly, and he nods, surprised as well. "Hollywood is kind of a dump!" He interviews that "finally" she realized Hollywood is not awesome, and in the van she asks if it's okay for her to be second-guessing this call, and I mean: cobra. The end. Cut it out, Michelle. Tim reassures her that it's better for the task overall to switch to something else rather than regretting not changing later. She notifies him that she is "feeling strongly" about going in the direction of Beverly Hills; they do so, and it is boring and residential. This is something you do on Google Maps first, kids. Ask Stefani. "This is boring," she says, and he agrees. "It's beautiful and boring." Tim interviews again, now slightly irritated, about how after two more hours of driving wildly around Beverly Hills, only to find it boring, it was time to make a decision. Michelle finally decides to just do Hollywood, since it's at least mentally more exciting. She floats the idea of somehow touring Hollywood while driving through Beverly Hills, or making a detour or something, and he just shakes his head, amazed at the way her brain works. This is bad management, I'll say that right now. Driving around aimlessly all day, for no reason at all? Cobra. Any detail you're going to hyper-focus on, to the degree that Frank and Nicole are left alone to do God knows what, is bad enough, but spending literal hours and hours doing something you didn't need to do in the first place? Dumb.
Speaking of! Frank and Nicole yell at each other in their van about how they're so much better than Michelle in every way because at least they do things, important and special things, core tasks that are central to the task. Such as yelling about how awesome they are, I guess. Do they not have telephones? Is she really not delegating any of the other stuff? I find that really hard to believe, and I find Nicole to be highly suspect in like every way, because she is sketchy, so I'm going to fill in the blanks. I imagine it went something like this.
Michelle: "Nicole, can you tuxedos go get and the banners for theme?"
Nicole: "I don't understand what you mean. Just delegate some tasks to me."
Michelle: "Okay, how about some grab you and Frank tuxedos and signage?"
Nicole: "Look, I'm not trying to be difficult here, but I really need some action items or tasks or something in order to contribute."
Michelle: "Fucking tuxedos. Fucking banners. Two things are that."
Nicole: "I feel like you're leading by consensus."
Michelle: "Can define you for me the word consensus?"
Nicole: "No I can't, Michelle."
Nicole interviews at a screeching, ugly pitch about how she and Frank "decided" that if they didn't get things done, they weren't getting done, because there was no way Michelle was getting them done. Just pissy, bitchy, and nasty, all the time. I imagine it went something like this.
Frank: "Nothing's getting done! I'm just sitting here getting upset!"
Nicole: "I know, right? I wish that we were doing something."
Frank: "I wish Michelle would delegate some activities."
Nicole: "I miss Tim, he's the best PM we've ever had."
Frank: "Hey, here's a list of things that need to get done."
Nicole: "Don't you think Michelle's such a bitch?"
Frank: "Maybe we should do some of the things on this list?"
Nicole: "Sometimes I disgust even myself."
Frank: "The things on this list seem related to the task at hand, and they're in Michelle's handwriting, and she just called to say that we should do them."
Nicole: "She is crazy. She's just insane. We can't possibly do anything related to the task."
Frank: "I think we should accomplish some things; let's do that."
Nicole: "God, we're amazing."
So Nicole continues to scream trashily at us about how they had to go get tuxedos -- to "create the ambience of the Rich and Famous," like isn't that the saddest thing you ever heard in the world? -- and create a banner for the bus. I can see how Michelle scouting locations would get in the way of her doing these things, but also: if you're a member of the team, do you really think you deserve a special prize for doing stuff? When you were PM, you did literally nothing, and now that Michelle's PM, you are complaining because you pitched in? Whatever. So like, Frank and Nicole creating the "ambience of the Rich and Famous," in the way that they mean it, is akin to asking Britney Spears about parental responsibility. Not to get into the whole class wars situation here, but I think you'll find that class is delineated along distinctions not of worth but of dignity. Ask yourself, what's the difference between being successful, and being poor trash with lots of money. I'll tell you one helpful standard: not using fucking quotation marks for emphasis. God, that bugs me. The banner Nicole and Frank design says:
A Day In The Life Of
"The Rich And Famous"
And if you need me to explain to you why that is trashy, I'll take away your taco cart so fast your head will spin. Gross me out. And Nicole's still screaming weirdly at the camera. Whatever. They get the banner ready as Nicole interviews that she's sure Tim's doing "everything he can," but figures that's probably pretty difficult with Michelle there. So even though she, by her own admission, has no idea what Michelle and Tim are up to, she can at least be sure of one thing: Michelle's blocking Tim from doing his job. Because Michelle sucks, per Tim, and Tim is the boss of the world, per Nicole. I don't even have the heart to explain why this is stupid. It's so stupid. Why is Nicole even here? Is this some kind of calculated decision where people will hopefully tune in because Nicole's just like them? Are we appealing to the WCW crowd suddenly? Is she the Scott Savol of this show? Aren't we over that yet? When did aspiration and excellence take a backseat to showing the triumphs of white trash? No wonder everything sucks.
Michelle asks Tim straight up: if he were her, what would he do? Tim looks at her seriously: "If you tell me to make a decision, I will, but you shouldn't." As usual, Michelle's three steps ahead with no walkie-talkie, so she can't explain to him that she already knows what he's saying, already processed it and is willing to take that chance, so she's just like, "I know, I get it," and he doesn't think that she gets it, and they stare at each other, and she finally decides to go back to Hollywood for real. They shake on it and he tries to be encouraging. He interviews that now they have no choice but to pull an all-nighter, and that it's going to be a long night. Michelle babbles at him some more and it's clear he's basically fried.
Kinetic sleeps sweetly in their mansion dormitory, while outside we find Stefani making coffee for Team Aaron, which is quickly becoming Kinetic v2.0, and interviewing in a teal sweater (poncho?) and looking cuter than she's looked this whole time. They talk about Mann's Theatre and Stefani notes excitedly that the first Academy Awards was held at the Roosevelt Hotel, and they have charts and graphs and things on their computers and they are a whirlwind of preparation and efficiency. Stefani giggles in the interview about how awesome it was to have three people "with such big mouths" getting it together and working hard. They all agree to get some rest, since everything's well in hand: it's notable that Aaron, the PM, is the one asking for validation of the nap idea. On this show, and this has almost always been true, when men double-check stuff with their teams, it's considerate and management-minded; when women do it, they're being whiners and asking for consensus. This is one of the few cases where the show is right, gender-wise: being a female manager in real life is very different from being a male one in real life, and this is one of the ways. And it sucks, but that's the real world, and that's why Michelle is coming off as idiotic and weak, while Aaron -- who is no closer to evincing any kind of personality than he was two weeks ago -- is looking awesome.
Tim gives Michelle a hundred reasons she should let them snag a nap -- they'll be better in the presentation, and have their wits about them -- and of all times, this is where she puts her foot down, because she is part robot and requires no sleep. What she's not thinking about is the serious resentment that is already and always present, and that taking away details and small comforts like this is the fastest way to piss them off you could think of. It's why every year on Big Brother the person who cooks stays longer than anybody else: those things don't matter when you're feeling great, but when you feel crappy, they're always the straw that breaks you. Food, sleep, whatever. Nicole shrieks some more into the camera about how they "didn't get anything accomplished" and now Michelle's asking them to "stay awake" and how this makes no sense. She goes to bed, and is joined immediately by Tim and Michelle, who begs her to get up. "If there's any way for you to rally, that would be...awesome." She asks Nicole to take part in the task, and again Nicole blocks her with the nebulous "we don't have a plan of action" excuse, which I guarantee her lazy ass has been using forever, but works particularly well here because Michelle's still not making any sense when she talks. So Michelle tries to describe a word-picture of the plan of action, which Nicole takes as a lack of a plan. Finally Michelle just requests that Nicole do a little better than "giving up" and saying, "I don't know what to do," which is exactly what she's doing. "I'm not being like that," Nicole whines, and Michelle gestures. "You're in bed, Nicole." They talk around and around and around the subject for a million years. It's incredibly frustrating from the outside, because the problem here is neither leadership nor work ethic, but their basic inability to have any kind of a conversation at all, combined with Michelle's seriously damaged confidence and Nicole's blatant attempts to be obstructionist. It's also rather boring. Michelle interviews about how Nicole is the weak link on this task (true), and what if they lose?
Quick Quiz! Do you really want Michelle to be able to say she had to force you out of bed mid-task?
James is getting antsy at the bus, with the crowd, when Aaron arrives with the Laker Girls, like eight or ten of them, and everybody cheers, and they start signing autographs. Aaron, in interview, describes it as "almost a mob scene," pointing out the very smart and salient fact that the final measure of success is the audience surveys, which means giving them a great atmosphere and environment from start to finish. Basically, even if they don't have a good time, fooling them into thinking they're having a good time is just as good or better, because they're going to be filling out comment cards. This is the key to this task, and any audience survey task, and I've never thought about it that way, but it's held true every season. Smart. Stefani hands out snacks and water and is adorable, and Ivanka arrives, to be conducted onto the bus by James, who screams about how she is their SPECIAL GUEST. I think people clap for her. The guy driving the bus is wearing an Uncle Sam hat for no reason. FAMOUS PLACES BEAUTIFUL FACES, James screams like a billion times, and then proceeds to talk crazy for hours and hours. Aaron interviews that James has a "dominant personality," and that his loudness is both good and bad. He yells about Sean Connery for a while. Aaron begs him to calm down, from his interview in the future. James asks for a ROUND OF APPLAUSE for the PARENTS of the world. Stefani interviews, chuckling, that James is "like an emcee with a whole lot of energy and nothing to say," and admits that she wanted to wring his neck. If they lose, she says, it's on James. Everybody wonders what his deal is, on the whole bus. YOU PROBABLY THINK THIS IS THE CRAZIEST TOUR BUS YOU'VE EVER BEEN ON, he screams!
Nicole is wearing her tuxedo, welcoming people, while Michelle acts weird some more. As expected, Nicole looks like she works at a movie theatre. Michelle interviews her hope that once the tour starts and the four of them "get their magic going," they will somehow rock out. "It's going to come down to what we do on this bus ride that will make the difference," she foreshadows; cut to Michelle talking totally whack as the tour begins: "We're so happy to have you on our bus today! As you probably know our theme for the day is, a day in the life of the rich and famous! I wanted to take an opportunity to explain how we feel this. This means to us, this theme, so through the eyes of the rich and famous the -- uh, the elements of being in the caliber of the rich and famous." There's a girl looking disbelieving and confused about this bizarre word salad. "So, that having been said... " Nicole, and I'll give her this, gives a funny little interview: "When Michelle was on the mic, she was making absolutely no sense. Maybe she needed sleep more than the rest of us?" Seriously. "And Tim here will be giving you the facts of many of the sites," Michelle says crazily.
Tim's mic goes wild and starts squealing, causing most of the eardrums to immediately burst; most people are glad because they don't have to try and decipher Michelle's crazy talk anymore. "It was the mic situation," he says in interview, looking entirely too hot, "that caused me to feel dread and true misery." The microphone screams some more and it sounds like Nicole. "And we had an hour and 28 minutes to go." Everybody hurts from the screeching. As they pass the Chateau Marmont, which Tim pronounces really weirdly, he goes on a trippy little Michelle journey of his own. "This is the location where the legendary John Belushi passed away after ingesting a speedball full of drugs and overdosed." Cut to sixteen little kids on the bus, staring; one beautiful mom's eyes bug out. In interview, he blushes -- and this is either really funny, or super fucking canny to where he's like a terrifying Dr. Will of a player -- and admits he probably should have left the Belushi trivia out, or at least the heroin part. "Dad, what's a speedball?" he laughs. I can't tell if he's doing it on purpose and lying in the post interview or what, and it's driving me nuts. The mic continues to scream.
Team Aaron: JULIA ROBERTS does not have a STAR ON THE HOLLYWOOD WALK OF FAME! He screams about this for awhile; Stefani interviews that she was awfully confused about what the hell he was talking about. She finally takes the mic and jokes with him about his caffeination and how he has nothing to say but keeps talking, and they joke about it, and he still can't shut up, but the crowd responds. The music starts to sound like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and everybody falls in love with her. They pass the Roosevelt, she talks about the Oscars; they pass the Magic Castle, she tells them a hundred fascinating facts about the Magic Castle. It's really neat to watch. In interview, Aaron's still obviously impressed by this, talking about how she was able to digest an "unbelievable amount of information" about the places, and if you didn't know better, her brilliant and professional delivery would have you believe she's been doing these tours for twenty years. It's a really neat moment; Aaron on the bus smiles around the corner as she points out the balcony from Vivian's apartment in Pretty Woman, which is probably the coolest thing you could possibly point out to me personally, because that is still one of my favorite movies of all time. In an interview, she admits that she basically bailed James out completely, and on the bus there's basically a riot in celebration of Stefani and her magical nature.
Team Michelle: "How about yelling?" asks Tim, dropping the awful microphone and launching into a long speech about Hollywood Boulevard and how there are stars on it and what the symbols inside them mean and how maybe you've heard about Hollywood but do you know all about Hollywood Boulevard, and seeming to be only a little boring but kind of a mini-Stefani in terms of his competence. Except, of course, for the fact that they're not on Hollywood Boulevard, they're on Sunset, and I don't know how many hours he talked before he realized that and shut up. In interview, he admits that this could possibly be because they're on zero sleep. The people are bored and feeling lied to. Michelle's final word: "There were some people on the bus that were...certainly not angry...I think they felt for us? They had some...sympathy?" If she were saying this in a self-deprecating or deadpan way, it would be the funniest line ever uttered on this show, but she's being totally sincere. This is what the show has done to her: "They didn't hit me in the face or throw garbage, so that's good."
Vocabulary: A Measure of Success
Any task can be broken down into milestones and opportunities for metrics. These demonstrable timeline and success measurements justify your employment and project involvement, on the management level, but more importantly, they justify your manager's job to those above him or her. Find a way to express your ongoing success in a way that's easily measurable, fits into a standard Excel graph (without necessitating pivot tables, which always scare the bejesus out of people), and can be quickly massaged into factual tumescence no more than five minutes before a client conference. Choose the way you measure your success very carefully. If this decision is taken out of your hands, make sure you keep one eye on the defined timelines and measures of success at all times, because everybody's job depends on looking good, and not much else.
Fun Fact: This is why America's public schools are so radically out of step with the educational standards of most industrialized countries across the globe!
Into the boardroom, where Donald Trump asks the teamlets one hundred times in a row who they thought won. It's weird and I think badly edited, because he seriously asks like six times. Stefani is sure that Team Aaron won, and Michelle thinks that, "if our group had heart," they won. Which of course makes no sense. She explains that there were logistics issues at the top of the game -- the mic -- but that her team stepped up impressively to counteract this setback. Which I guess is the best spin you can put on things at this point, although it sounds fake the second she says it: "I was so impressed." And I will say this: disingenuous sabotage aside, if that was Tim legitimately fucking up, then I'm impressed at his contribution as well. I think he's really likeable either way, but I was really surprised to see the ways he was willing to be motivated to work on the task itself. Considering the fact that they made utter hash of it, that hustle didn't really go anywhere, but if he was being genuine, that's really cool and fair of him. Or else he's an actual sociopath. Either one is fine, frankly. Especially in this game.
Tim describes Michelle as a PM: "It wasn't always smooth, but we tried." Trump asks if she was great, or just okay, and notes that he's not showing a hell of a lot of enthusiasm. "She had her moments," Tim says, striking a very smart balance. The fact is, she was a shitty PM. But just like last week, I don't personally think it's enough to say that and drop the whole episode, because the easiest answer is also the most boring and covers up the most flaws in everybody else: yeah, Carey's suit sucked and he was a bad teammate, but that doesn't mean everybody else was awesome. Person A is not responsible for the behavior of Person B: Person A is responsible for the behavior of Person A. "Person B sucks" isn't a reason, it's an excuse: can you say at the end of the day that you tried your hardest? Nicole's sucking is independent of Michelle's sucking, and of Frank's sucking, and the suckiest thing of all is how Nicole's sucking is so obviously not independent of Tim's sucking, but that doesn't say anything about Tim. Just Nicole, you know what I mean? Michelle sucking doesn't make Nicole suck less, it just means they both suck. Totally different concept, and I'm seeing the former substituted for actual thought a lot more this year, in general. Not really with the show, but just in life. There's another show I write about that basically, that's the entire point this season: "she hit me first" isn't a valid reason to act like an asshole, because you still have to retain your dignity. Other people's bullshit is not your carte blanche, and if you start thinking it is, you're going to end up an asshole.
Nicole gives the empty, stupid "great as a person" handjob before calling Michelle a bad PM, and notes that it was "hard for us to pull together." For a person whose management style is self-described as "to motivate," I can see that this would be a problem, but it's really hard to manage people who are actively trying to fuck with you, no matter how motivational you're being. Trump notes how shitty it is to start with the finger-pointing and blame-shifting and name-calling when they don't even know whether they won or lost; he does not somehow connect this to Nicole's classless behavior in every boardroom to date, sadly. Frank offers that Michelle did a good job based on creativity, whatever that means, and that as a PM...he takes his time deliberating...she did a good job. He says they won. He doesn't have a choice otherwise, because of the thing Nicole just pulled, but whatever. He admits that Michelle had trouble making decisions, and that even when it came down to it, she couldn't seem to commit to anything. We didn't see that so much, but it's obvious that this was the problem, and good for Frank for putting it in a way Trump will mostly like swallow. Trump is full of wonderment that they hate her so much, and asks Aaron how his team did, some more. Aaron says they were awesome and did a fantastic job. Stefani says that Aaron was excellent as a PM, and James says he was IMPRESSED by Aaron's LEADERSHIP and WILLINGNESS TO LISTEN because a lot of people aren't good at that. (You already know what I'm going to say about that little clue to James, but just in case: if you find that most people don't listen, if you feel like you're not being heard, chances are there's some tinkering you could be doing somewhere along the line. FYI.)
Trump's like, so you totally won. You did really well? They did: Ivanka reveals the tourist approval rating for Team Aaron, which is 82%. Comments included: "good interaction with the guests, great guides, fun and entertaining, an insightful Hollywood experience." I like that Stefani managed to recontextualize James by including him in her act, so that even if the crowd was irritated by him at the time, by making a unified front with him, she made him okay and just part of the show, so by the end, you would just remember him as one of those delightful hosts. I don't think she did this on purpose, exactly, but by being kind about his ouster -- even making a casual, subtle joke of both it and his performance flaws -- she put everybody on the same side, and did it smoothly, and that is awesome. If anything, that's the big lesson this week: there's a way to save somebody's ass where everybody wins, if what you want is for your team to succeed. Stefani rescued the presentation in the only possible way to create that perfect environment Aaron was talking about, and I'm fairly sure she did it that way merely because she's a nice person, and wouldn't have done it any other way. (We'll get back to that concept a little later, that idea of the audience being complicit in creating the meaning of the game itself, but for now let's just note that Stefani did this essential everyday thing really well, and won them the task.)
DJ says that Team Michelle got comments like: "the tour was somewhat repetitive" and "not much information," and ended up with a 58%. Ouch. (And that was just the people who could still hear the survey questions after the screeching mic issue!) Michelle agrees with Trump that this was "not so great," and repeats that, had their group "had heart," they would have won. I don't know what she means; Trump doesn't care and tells her to get lost, because they're doing the second part of the boardroom in a sec and she can kiss all the ass at that time. As for the "winners," Team Aaron, he tells them straight up that their reward is: to get no reward at all. You know they were thinking they would at least get to use the mansion bathrooms or something, but no. Not a fucking thing, is what they get. "It's called mental," says Trump: that winning for its own sake, that victory qua victory, is in itself such a "good feeling" that they don't need anything. (We'll come back to that idea a little later, the concept that Trump's opinion of this game show and its importance is so high and unreal that he sees a win here as ultimately the same as actual success, but for now let's just note that Team Aaron, who totally rocked this week as a three-man team in the third week of the show, get not a fucking thing.)
As he dismisses Team Aaron -- and inviting Aaron himself to sublet Heidi's Viceroy seat for the weak -- Michelle clears her throat and asks if she can say something. And let me tell you, I cheered, because there are two possibilities here. There's only two things, given the way Michelle operates, that could possibly happen . The first one is to point out that Nicole went to sleep as a particularly gross passive-aggressive strategy to fuck with Michelle, and is a bug-eating freak, but the second one...oh, keep those fingers crossed. You can tell she's thought about this a great deal, given that this is the only time on the show that she speaks without stuttering or turning her words loose against each other like a dogfight of concepts. You can tell she's totally at peace with what she's about to do, because she's assured herself that she's right about this. You can tell she's only doing it because she knows she's going home either way, after this boardroom; you can tell she doesn't really care about that either.
"May I say something? I would love to say something...I would just like to say that in light of the circumstance, and the fact that what I signed up for originally is not...what I'm dealing with now... " Trump knows what she's going to say: "What are you dealing with?" And she confirms it: "Living in the backyard, being the losers." He asks if she's saying it's just too tough, and she readily admits that it is, a little. "It's more than I bargained for, and it's certainly not what I signed up for... " James starts to get worried, wondering if she's going to quit, and if so, if somebody else is getting fired. Michelle explains that she wouldn't turn down the opportunity to work for the Trumporg "through the conventional route," one of these days, but that at this point, "I don't even feel like coming back to the boardroom. It's just not worth it to me, to go through this. It really isn't." Trump asks if that doesn't make her a quitter? A loser? DJ and Ivanka back him up, DJ yelling about how sucky she is and Ivanka, as usual, leveling the correct question at the correct time in the correct voice: "Would you have quit if you'd won?" Michelle's like, "Valid," but says that ultimately, she wouldn't have signed up for The Apprentice if she'd known there were tents. "Plus you know you're in big trouble," says DJ, and Frank nods. Michelle nods her head with a smile, and repeats that she is grateful for the opportunity, and most especially for the challenge itself: being through the tacky, trashy fakeness of the show has given her ample opportunity to learn about her own strengths and weaknesses, which is invaluable. She's doing this really, really well, I think. "It's been great, and I want to thank you for the opportunity."
I went to high school in West Texas, so my brain goes to football, because that show Friday Night Lights is basically vérité -- in addition to being totally awesome in every single way -- in terms of the relative reality. I don't understand the rules or the point of the game, but the world around it is very real to me. (Ali: "Is it true they have a radio show about high school football?" Me: "Try entire radio stations." Ali: "Is it hard explaining that football world to people?" Me: "Do you believe that there are entire radio stations about high school football?" Ali: "No." Me: "Then yes.") But imagine if you will a football player with the whole world ahead of him, who is greeted with some form of hardship and decides to quit the team and do something else with his time, like learn to read. This is a gross mismanagement of personal priorities, from the team side, and a serious betrayal, and a lack of honor, and whatever else -- but only from the team side, and the coach side, and the football culture and economy of parents and schoolmates and local merchants. Somebody like me, who managed to coexist with the football mania pretty well but never accepted its objective reality, is going to say you made the right call. So who's right?
How about this: you're having an argument with a loved one, about something stupid. Say, the proper pronunciation of the name of the hotel Chateau Marmont. And so underneath the facts of the stupid argument is a roiling mess of resentments and stuff that the thing has very little to do with, and underneath that, you love the person and they love you. The second most infuriating thing the loved one can do is say, "You're right, I give in." But the most infuriating thing they could do is say that, and mean it. This is because they've taken the dialectic out from under you, and are now playing on a field that recognizes the actual unimportance of the pronunciation of the name of the hotel Chateau Marmont. In essence, they've made you look stupid and petty, because you're behind. This is why post-modernists are so quick to anger -- the constant reassignment of the ground on which you stand is really bad for your complexion. Football, temporary fights about pronunciation, chess, The Apprentice: these are finite games, per Carse. They have rules and a beginning and an end, but their meaning is entirely created by the observer. Nothing's so infuriating as the guy who tips the table over the second he starts losing at Cranium, but there's nothing you can do to get him back into line: he's decided it's just a stupid game. He's a prick, as well, but it's infuriating on a completely other level than simple asshole behavior, because you've committed yourself to believing, even just for an hour, that the rules of the game actually matter. That winning the game says something about you: you've put enough of yourself and your ego into the process that harm to the game means harm to you, literally.
Michelle's saying that work is good, and stick-to-it-ive-ness is good, and all these things are good: pitching in, and doing your best, and trying even when it's hard, and accepting that some people are natively stupid and nasty and that you have to, in the real world, work with them. She's not in any confusion about what things are like in the world of the game, or even in Trumpworld. But what she's saying, the reason this is so awesome, is that she's also capable of playing on another field entirely, the field that says this is a shark-jumping travesty of a game show that has taken to introducing really extreme situations and drama for its own sake, because that is what television is about. And lest you think Trump's going to follow her to the new game board, what we call reality, let's review the facts of Trump. The "ambience of the Rich and Famous" that are his bread and also his butter. This is a man who, given enough signifiers -- blonde wig, fake tits, low-cut dress, Russian accent, the sense of being easily impressed by money and perceived power -- could be tricked into marrying Ed McMahon. Everything for him: marriage, sex, power, money, this show, is a finite game whose meaning is dependent on the observer. Harm to the game, such as she's committing, is harm to him. Watch him freak.
"Thank you, too," he says, and offers that he would like to leave her with these words of wisdom: "This is a major opportunity. This is a major lifetime event for you." He explains that in the years he's been doing the show, only one other person has quit. He admits to being amazed that there's only been one, but in such a way that it still somehow speaks highly of him, more than anything. He admits that the game show is tough: this means that he is tough. That the show is somehow isometric to a real job interview for a real company has always been a major tenet of the show, because if any of them ever admitted for one second that the whole thing is a joke, it would fall down in a pile. That's why the best people on this show (all of them, really) treat it like a total farce but never say that aloud. If you say it out loud, the show will punish you, because in the context of the game show, that's total hubris.
Rhetorical Quiz: You're sitting at a red light. It's 0300 hours, in an abandoned outskirt, with full visibility in all directions. You've been sitting at this red light for subjectively thirty years. You haven't been drinking, your lights are all working, registration and emissions are fine, your seat belt is fastened. You're doing nothing wrong and there's no reason to pull you over. Nobody can see you. Nobody in the entire world is going to see what you do , but you really have to pee. How long is it going to take you to remember that the red light itself is not the boss of you?
"I think, looking back, you will not be proud." That's his first point. His second point is that, in all his speeches on success and motivation, he always tries to beat it into people that you never quit. You never give up. That's true, and a good point to make about reality. This isn't reality. "You can never be successful if you quit. You can dress it up any way you want." He says she came into the process knowing it was going to be hard. "If I were you, I'd rather be fired." She nods her understanding of this. "I hate this concept," he says. "Me, I don't care: you make my job easier. But the fact is that I hate what you're doing." He tells her she's going to be living with this mistake for a long time, and then I'm like 89% sure he calls her "Sarah."
She thanks him for his candor, and acknowledges that she knew this was coming. "You know, it's sort of like a boxer. I have more respect for a boxer that's in big trouble, and he goes out and gives it everything, and he sometimes get knocked out, than I do for a boxer that quits in his corner. I hate seeing that." Almost as much as you hate your little fiefdom getting called out for what it is: a tacky celebration of everything that doesn't count. "I'm quitting in my corner because I also know that there was so much more I could have done on that task, and I'm just thinking that there's just something that's going on with my spirit, that it isn't being the typical resilient person that I came into this being." Suddenly Michelle's crazy talk is starting to make sense to me finally. The accidental artistry of this episode is circumstantial: the juxtaposition of Trump/Frank/Nicole's false and grievous ideas about the meaning of "success" as a false and finite game with what Michelle's doing now. That is thematically satisfying. DJ yells about how much could she have possibly learned about herself, if what she learned is that she's a quitter and a loser. "Like Mr. Trump said -- and I appreciate the question -- I can coat this any way that I want. So for me, it doesn't feel like I'm quitting anything. It feels like I'm actually staying true to my integrity, [by not] staying true to a process that doesn't work for me naturally." They yell at her about how it's not a game show, it's not a game show, it's not a game show, it's real, it's a real-life process that has meaning, it's so close to the real world it might well be real. These are lies. In fact, the candidates are as important to this show as they are on any TV show, from American Idol to Survivor, which is to say they're as important to the show as they are to you and me, which is to say: not that important. I spend the same amount of time thinking about what happened to Joey Potter after the show ended as I do Clay Aiken, which is to say: none at all. There's some other group of kids rocking out on TV right now that are more important.
Two-Part Quiz
1. Name five past contestants on America's Top Model. Easy.
2. Now tell me what they're doing now.
That's how TV works.
"When you go out into business," Trump says, "It's going to be much tougher than living in a tent at 72 degrees in L.A. on the top of a hill. What happens when you meet your first obstacle in business...you quit?"
From the NBC profile: Michelle, 34...has dedicated much of her adult life building a flourishing career in real estate, and now averages $50 million in annual sales. Through the years she has become an expert in real estate remodel and design, as she is also an active investor. Thriving on creative outlets, Michelle started a publishing company and wrote and produced her own book titled, The Voice of Gratitude: Celebrating the Gift of Friendship, which she successfully sold to Hallmark Gold Crown across North America. She has also hosted several television programs, including real estate shows, and recently began work as a host for Al Gore's network, Current. Inspired to give back, Michelle also founded Urban Circle, an L.A.-based non-profit organization designed to empower children through participation in physically challenging activities.
"I've never done that," she says, and he reminds her she just did, but he's not getting it: "I won't do it again." And you know what? She won't. Not in the real world. That's how she ended up on this joke of a show in the first place. He accepts her resignation and turns to the others: "I will see you three later," he says, and wishes her luck. Donald and Ivanka stare as the two teamlets leave, Don Jr. remarking that she just sold out her team. "She shouldn't have left them, she should have come to the boardroom and taken her medicine like a man -- or a woman, in this case -- instead of leaving them to come into the boardroom and let one of them get fired when maybe they wouldn't have been." Ivanka agrees, and I adore Ivanka, but there are five things wrong with that sentence and you have only ten minutes to figure out what they are. Not the least of which is that this little cabal sequence with the three Trumps could have been filmed at any time whatsoever and maybe has nothing to do with what just happened. This show is so fake, who knows. Trump calls it a "tough situation" and says it "just doesn't feel right." I imagine that whenever anybody calls bullshit on your entire life and way of doing things, it feels less than right. (When Trump takes on Rosie, how much of that is just him yelling back at the TV for calling him names? Honestly?)
Out in the yard, Stefani -- appalled and worried, but not angry -- speaks to Michelle from inside the game, while helping her pack. It's neat: her concern and kindness are both really sweet and really justified. From the game side. I don't mean to abstract this out too far, or make some massive point about Tennyson or whatever, but it's something worth thinking about in business and in life: Imagine this conversation under any other circumstance where the social dynamics of Team Arrow can be substituted for an overall societal norm. Contrast with any real-world issue where she's going outcast on purpose: Michelle's quitting the football team. Michelle's finally leaving her abusive husband. Michelle's leaving her demeaning job. Michelle's going gay. Michelle's suing the Harper Valley PTA. Michelle's joining the Army. Michelle's taking up painting. Michelle's picking up stakes and moving to Japan for a year. Same vibe, same logical construction, same fears, same violent pack reaction. And even her sweetest, most well-meaning friends don't understand why she'd step outside the context:
Stefani: "What the hell did you do?"
Michelle: "Don't do that."
Stefani: "What did you do?"
Michelle: "Don't do that."
Stefani: "Man, are you... "
Michelle: "Just stand behind me?"
Stefani: "You're out of your mind."
I mean, if this were a story, she'd be so awesome. I think it's lovely -- and the fact that it dovetails with the unutterable fact that this show is bullshit, I'm sure that's part of my delight here. She says goodbye to her teammates and finishes packing. James -- who's always been committed to the process, and scared of the boardroom -- is scowling and pissed, in utter shock. "I haven't quit anything since I was three," Michelle says, and Stefani -- still pissed at her for giving up, and the only one who's not taking this personally -- notes that now she has. "Big deal," she snorts. The amount of over it she is is, like, totally inspiring. Tim talks about how angry he's going to be if Trump fires another person from Team Michelle -- he's obviously not going to, because he would only punish them if it would create more drama, and it won't now that she's gone, because an absent scapegoat is no scapegoat at all -- and Michelle says, "Tim, do not even go that route." Even in her last seconds, she still talks weird. Frank worries that he really might, and Michelle tells him to chill. Tim interviews about how angry and endangered-feeling he is right now. Over the hedge, Angela and Kristine and Derek are listening intently and piecing together what happened. Derek: "Oh, shit!" They laugh and get very wiggly.
"Mr. Trump is a person who has voiced his opinion very strongly in the past about never quitting. I knew Mr. Trump would respond that way." Michelle rolls her eyes in interview: "I don't...care." So awesome. She puts on her pink coat and grabs her bags, and the Arrow girls stare from under a blanket as she heads off down the driveway. The phone rings, as Stefani and James quietly wig out, and Frank answers. It's Andie. "Since Michelle quit, Mr. Trump feels nobody else on her team deserves to be fired. Mr. Trump has cancelled the boardroom." Because Trump, just like everybody else, can step outside the rules of the game whenever he wants, and feel good about it because he's the boss. Frank jumps around screaming and screaming, just like you knew he would, and he hugs Tim and Nicole. Down near the street now, to the sound of their jubilation, Michelle waves hilariously: "Bye, guys." They cheer and hug and wig out some more: We get to live like homeless people some more! AWESOME!
Lessons learned: Any cultural system, whether it be language, sex, marriage, business, or game shows, has rules. Those rules derive meaning from context; it's the audience that decides the meaning and enforceability of those rules, and the audience always includes the players themselves. In the shifting and sometimes labyrinthine sets of significance that attend these games, it's sometimes hard to remember who and where you are without relying on the context clues of your fellow audience members. The only reason Michelle would falter in that boardroom is because the other people in the room were either actual brand-holders whose legitimacy depends on not calling bullshit on the venture, or coked-up-acting wolverines in a cage whose desire to be on TV and whose mistreatment on the show has made them crazy enough to forget reality ever existed. In a position where you're being martyred to consensus reality, and you start to think you're crazy, remember where you're standing: the square foot of ground underneath you, that belongs to you. Take a breath and anchor there, and not in the lunatic priorities of people who to this point have shown their character, for good or ill or Tim, pretty obviously. Not that games are stupid, quite the opposite: everything is games. But there are two kinds of strength at play in any game: the strength to stay in the game, and the strength to leave it. Michelle's weirdness and inability to get on board with the game the rest of them were playing was the thing that made her suck at this game show. It's also what got her out of the mud.