It's Monday night, which means you should have tucked the kids in their pink leopard print beds, read them the story of how Chanel was really invented by an Italian, turned off the lights, and poured yourself the first of hopefully many glasses of red wine and Diet Coke. Ask your husband to hand you the remote so you don't chip your burgundy-colored manicured nails with the little diamond on the middle finger (so you can flash the American eagle with style when someone cuts you off in your Range Rover), because money can't buy you class, but it can buy you a diamond the size of a garlic knot. Then lock your husband in his wood-paneled basement with a bottle of Barolo and some dirty picks of JWoww, because it's time for the Season Finale of The Real Housewives of New Jersey!
Teresa and Joe have invited the many and sundry Manzos over to break bread and help promote Teresa's entrepreneurial venture, namely, shilling Skinny Italian products and stepping all over Bethenny Frankel's business model. Although, I don't think Bethenny would ask her friends to pair bellinis with their pasta. You can't really fault Teresa, though. She has to earn some money to keep her girls in leopard print jeggings and buy a replacement vase for the living room after Jacqueline's mother mistook it for a linebacker and took it out.
The enlarged family sits down to their last supper (I'm assuming an FBI SWAT team is going to swoop in and take Joe out at any minute) and talk, naturally, turns to Ashley's impending court case. Jacqueline looks slightly saddened as she reports that the dozen white doves of peace she sent over to Danielle's house were not appreciated and the emissary she sent to beg for clemency for Ashley was splattered with hot glue, beadazzled, vajazzled, and returned home with NO written on her forehead in glitter glue. Jacqueline is shocked that Danielle, a woman she once claimed as maybe someday having possible friend potential, would press charges against her innocent teenaged baby whose only real crime was being stupid enough to pull someone's hair on camera.
Shaving enthusiast and elder statesman, Caroline, clucks at the poor manners on Danielle. I mean, clearly, if she wants to be accepted as part of the group and wants to earn access to the Best Panini (Panini!) in the World, she will have to drop the charges against Ashley. Perhaps it is time for Caroline to step down from Mt. Olympus (that's what she calls her 4-bedroom colonial with stone patio, weight room, and three-car garage) and engage with the enemy. And by that she means, invite her to lunch to berate her publicly. It worked so well when Dina tried it! Teresa doesn't think it will work. She tried to say a kind hello to Danielle and Danielle ran! Teresa is stunningly self-aware. I am surprised she's not a cult leader. For some reason (probably the producers are holding their Chihuahuas hostage) no one tries to talk Caroline out of this not-brilliant plan. Caroline is willing to throw herself in front of the about to de-rail train that is Danielle to beg for Ashley's life, but she asks in return that no one fuck up her negotiations by texting rude things to Danielle *cough* Ashley *cough* or stalking her like a terrier after a weasel through a perfectly lovely country club *cough* Teresa *cough*. Teresa nods glumly, because that was the most fun and most exercise she'd gotten in years. Ashley is not present to sign a blood oath promising not to harass Danielle, so Jacqueline can only promise to try and talk some sense into the pig-headed moron. I mean, we all know that even if Danielle dropped the charges Ashley would still be writing Danielle's number in bathroom stalls up and down the Jersey Turnpike. Caroline sends Danielle a text seeking an audience. Everyone chucks their Skinny Girl Bellinis (I smell an impending Real Housewives trademark war in season 3! dramazz!!) over their shoulders and toasts with actual red wine.
Meanwhile, Danielle, who is having a perfectly lovely and lo-cal dinner around the coffee table with her daughters, gets Caroline's text message. She then reads the message aloud to her daughters because in a fit of parental amnesia she has forgotten that her children are, well, children and treats them like overly-invested much younger (and shorter) girlfriends who want the play-by-play of her personal drama. But, when Jillian expresses doubt and concern about the meeting, Danielle snaps back into mommy mode and points herself in the chest and says "Matriarch." She learned it from her word-a-day calendar and likes the way she purses her lips when she says it. Then she spells it correctly and gives herself a dollop of butter on her pasta as a reward.
After dinner, Jacqueline and Chris pull into the garage with some chilling piano music playing leading me to hope (fingers crossed!) that an axe-wielding hockey mask-wearing psycho is lurking on the slate-tiled path leading to the new construction four bedroom with modern amenities. But, alas, it's just Ashley. Who is wearing the same fugly blue knit hat she has been wearing all season. I mean, damn girl, if you're going to wear that style chapeau, it should at least be Rasta colored to give you some semblance of personality, even if it is a hacky-sack playing one.
Jacqueline sends her boys off to bed and tells Ashley the Good News! Jesus is saving her! If by Jesus you mean shaving enthusiast "Aunt" Caroline who is going to hell to save Ashley from a probable small fine. If by hell you mean crudite on a plate in a private dining room at a white tablecloth restaurant. Ashley blinks twice for yes. Then she compares Danielle to herpes and refuses to even consider a public apology to Danielle, causing both her parents to slam their heads into the oak cupboards at the futility of raising a lunkhead. They don't bother to call Caroline and warn her that Ashley is too stupid to appreciate what her fake aunt is doing, because that is clearly going to be the highlight of this episode if not the fortnight.
Jailbird Danny and his divinely feathered hair stop over at Danielle's house for some afternoon delight and light gossip. Danielle's feathers are as ruffled as Danny's hair and he tries to talk some levity into her, but she's not interested. She is warming up for a fight because she knows that Caroline Manzo is ready for one too. She points out that Caroline formed a very negative opinion of her without ever having a conversation with her and she kind of takes that personally. She also lays out a case for a vast Manzo conspiracy against her, namely, that they keep showing up wherever she is. Danielle forgets to mention that the Manzos are contractually obligated to hang around Danielle because (plug your ears): THEY ARE ON THE SAME TV SHOW. She just doesn't understand why they can't leave her alone. *cough* you're on the same show *cough*. It's like if Blanche got a restraining order against Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose and couldn't figure out why she still had to share her house with them.
Caroline is dressed, showered, shaved, put in her Bump-It, and powdered and blushed herself into the form of The Ultra-Matriarch. She gets some encouraging words from her children and then is ready to rumble for the family's honor. Contrary to the bumper sticker, she is simultaneously preparing for war AND peace. Meanwhile, Danielle is engaged in a guided meditation via Dial-A-Psychic seeking peace and serenity via an iPhone app. Obviously she has brought an entourage including her on-call psychic healer and armed (!!) bodyguards. Because while Caroline might talk like a Soprano scion, Danielle is the real striver. Caroline is ready for her. As is the restaurant, who has smartly sequestered the two putative ladies (what? Caroline shaves daily and Danielle is clearly a tranny) in an isolated dining room far far from the other guests. They aren't fools. Caroline sips ice water waiting for Danielle to arrive.
Meanwhile, over at The Brownstone, everyone from the littlest Giudice to the oldest Manzo has gathered around a large table to wait
for news of Danielle's demise. No, really. They are all just sitting in a badly lit room waiting for news. Clearly there is some drinking to be done. Chris orders a large red wine and Coke and I am not even kidding. Albert blames Ashley for his wife being in an awkward situation, but pretends he thinks it is worth it. Then Jacqueline tries to point out that Ashley needs to be P for punished, but not in jail. Ashley immediately gets up to leave the room, because AWKWARD. Ashley goes to cry in the ladies room and Jacqueline storms after her and tells her to man up already. Surprisingly that tactic doesn't work, so Lauren heads to the front. By the way, The Brownstone has lovely bathrooms. Well done, Chris Manzo, as I'm sure you were the one cleaning it. Don't worry, everyone has to start somewhere. Of course, Albie got to start by going to law school and you're cleaning the ladies' loo, but don't worry, your parents love you equally. Anyway, Lauren tells Ashley to man up and it works. Some things are just easier to hear from peers. Ashley comes back upstairs and her boyfriend reminds her to be polite to her mother. She glares at him, but remembers that he is her ticket out of her mother's house and nods. People are getting anxious and restless as they wait for news.
Danielle enters the room, nods at Caroline, and sits down. Caroline starts reading her Hallmark slogans off of prepared 3X5 notecards. She has tried to stay out of Danielle's life, she has tried to convince her family to stay out of Danielle's life, she thinks everyone is trying to win at a game that can't be won, she knows they are all adults, it's a small town, they should move past this. She takes a deep breath and blurts that she doesn't know why Danielle is pursuing the case against Ashley when Danielle of all people knows what it is like to be young and make mistakes. Danielle doesn't appreciate the mention of her prostitution-whore past, but calmly reminds Caroline that Ashley assaulted her. Caroline agrees. Danielle says Ashley must be punished and Caroline agrees. Caroline thinks that if Danielle wants to pursue a career in love and light, she should forgive Ashley to show her the path of redemption. Give her a real Razor's Edge type of moment. Caroline swears that Ashley is sorry and has integrity to stand up to what she did. Actually, Caroline, Ashley just said she wouldn't apologize to Danielle, so now you're just lying. Caroline then demands to know what she personally has ever done to Danielle. For some reason (mortification?) Danielle doesn't remind her that she called her garbage on national television. Instead, Danielle asks Caroline what she ever did to her? Caroline clenches her jaw, leans forward, and stares Danielle levelly in the eyes and says: I am Jacqueline, I am Dina, I am Ashley. When I stand, I don't stand alone. Which I am pretty sure is straight from Nietzsche.
Danielle then misses the opportunity to reverse that and say, well, then Caroline, you pulled $150 worth of weave out of my head. Caroline's note cards get tossed out the window as her careful arguments devolve into accusing Danielle of assaulting babies, supporting terrorist organizations, kicking puppies, and defaming the beloved Brownstone. Also her friend called her son a pejorative word for gay in her presence. THIS TOO IS HER FAULT. Danielle refuses to take responsibility for her fine-feathered friend Jailbird Danny, but Caroline wants her too. Caroline's desire for Danielle to take responsibility for her friends' actions is completely negated by Caroline's inability to take any responsibility for her family's actions. The civil tone of the conversation continues to erode as the volume raises and the women just start talking right over each other. It only stops long enough for Danielle to say something derogatory about Caroline's friends who are under indictment and I am sorely tempted to start some rapid fire Googling, but will settle for watching Caroline gulp and change the subject.
In retaliation, Caroline calls Danielle a clown. Which is not a four-letter word, but Danielle takes it as one anyway because (let her check her iCal) nope, she has nothing better to do right now. Caroline then remembers that she once called Danielle garbage and might as well do it again. That is too much for Danielle, who bows out of the competition. Caroline points out that Danielle is walking away, not Caroline, a fact I am sure she is aware of. Caroline yells, "Goodbye! Have a nice life!" and then adds a "See You Later," which I think, under the circumstances, was kind of the wrong thing to say. So Danielle walks away, pulls out her phone and I really hope she is going to coldly blurt, "BURN IT DOWN" into the phone and the building will explode as Danielle walks away, head held high on the path of peace and light. But instead, she tells the bodyguard that Caroline called her garbage, twice, and he replies that he parked in a handicap spot and has to move the car.
Danielle's back up bodyguard reluctantly walks out of the shadows and pretends to listen to her whine about her female troubles. Inside, Caroline swears to the camera that she was really trying to be nice and came with the best intentions, but Danielle is blank and soulless and probably drinks French wine instead of Italian like decent folk. Outside,
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Danielle reminds us that she is the matriarch of her own family. That Jacqueline is certifiable and Joe is a drunk. Also, special message going out to Teresa: Her daughters wore crinoline and lace and the dogs wore leopard print. Oh snap!
Danielle returns home and proudly reports that she is in one piece and introduces her bodyguards to her daughters. She then instructs the girls to thank her bodyguards for keeping her safe. She forces Jillian to hug the grown men, which is not at all creepy. Oh, who are we kidding, it was all kinds of creepy! Danielle rejoices in the fact that her interaction with the Manzos is over! It's done! Like a thirteen week-long root canal! Then we get a title card indicating that Christine is in BlackBook Magazine and is still modeling for IMG, while Jillian was forced to perform at a street fair in NYC, which is about one step below a flash mob at a Jersey mall, but far far above a Posche Boutique trunk show at a country club. Danielle currently has a tell-all memoir, a pop song, and a sex tape. So that's what a life of peace and light gets you!
Caroline finally makes her grand entrance into the isolation room at The Brownstone. Everyone stares at her expectantly because they have been trapped in a room for hours and hours, the oxygen is running low, there is no Diet Coke, and the babies are starting to look like pork chops. Caroline gives the two-minute recap: Danielle came with a wall up, so it's all her fault. Caroline tried to get her to lay off Ashley, but Danielle wouldn't hear it, so it's all her fault. Then Caroline had no choice but to call her clown garbage. She then reminds each and everyone there, big and small, boy or girl, blood family or family friend or Ashley, that it is over. If anyone goes back to talk to Danielle, they are on their own. Now she has a date with a bottle of Excedrin and a gallon of Barolo.
Before she can go Ashley thanks her for trying. Then Ashley apologizes to her mom for raising her voice. A title card flashes that Ashley pled guilty to simple assault and paid a $189 fine. Hopefully this will not harm her career in either music management or fashion merchandising. The judge dismissed the harassment charge. Jacqueline is "trying to lose baby weight" and is still friends with Kim G. because she needs some drama and back stabbing in her life. Teresa and Joe are enjoying the success of Teresa's book and still maintain that despite $11 million debt, there home is not in foreclosure. Reality is magic, people. At least, Bravo reality. And then as if anyone cares, they report that Albie graduated from the police academy and still hopes to return to law school. Low achiever Chris still hopes to open a strip club/car wash because he is aiming high and dreaming big. Caroline hoists a stein of wine up to her mouth and toasts to her family.
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And, SCENE.
Except, of course, we all know the real drama is in the reunion show. Every time you think you are out, they pull you back in!
What are the ten saddest reality shows on TV? Find out.
Melissa Locker a.k.a. Lulu Bates is seriously considering moving further away from New Jersey. You can follow her on Twitter @woolyknickers.
Discuss the finale in the forums, then check out our Real Housewives cross-franchise super battle!
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