This season of The Real Housewives of Atlanta has gone on for so long that it’s difficult to even remember what’s happened in the last…four months? Seriously; it’s been 22 episodes and Bravo is under the impression that the housewives’ character arcs need more than two times the development of the Game of Thrones characters. But ultimately, the past 22 episodes are all just a countdown to the Reunion, when we can hear what these women really thought of the way their storylines were chopped, diced, smothered and covered, until they were delivered to us through Andy Cohen’s ever-discerning lens every night at 8 p.m. on Bravo. They know as well as we do that these episodes are edited within an inch of their botoxed life, and the Reunion, though also edited, is a chance to set their many, many stories straight. There doesn’t have to be a plot here, just a couple of couches and one silver fox ready to shamelessly ask them to air out all their dirty laundry.
And boy, did that air get heated. It was like a damn Bikram yoga class meets high school prom in that Georgia Ballroom last night. With the 22 hours of RHOA I’ve consumed over the last few months, I can’t remember each specific plot point that turned me so abruptly against Kenya. I can only express how I feel when I look at her: I feel that she is not to be trusted; I feel like every word that comes out of her mouth has an ulterior motive; and I feel like she is a villain, worthy of the nastiest mustache twirl. And yet – AND YET – you can’t just go around dragging people to the ground. Even if they are the kind of person who will yell in your face with a bullhorn about your recent divorce after having spent the last 30 minutes spewing lies all over Andy Cohen’s Armani suit. Even then…just keep reminding yourself of this.
I remember a simpler time, 43 minutes before one woman dragged another woman down to the ground in front of four of their closest co-workers, when Porsha thought her boob job would be the most interesting thing she revealed on the reunion show. I even thought to myself, “Wow, a boob job – how refreshing!” These days, the Housewives usually come custom-built with those already; in season 6, it’s a real game changer. Even rarer is the offer to “smell ‘em” to prove their freshness. Also revealing important pieces of plastic at the beginning of the reunion is Kenya, who has stolen someone’s (it’s Porsha’s) Pretty Pretty Princess set and brought the scepter to the Georgia Ballroom. If you think she will be using it as a sharing stick to pass around so everyone can take turns talking, then may I kindly direct you down to HGTV. Bravo will eat you alive.
Knowing that they had hooked us for the full hour with the promise of morally ambiguous lady violence, the producers laid on all of the worst segments in the beginning, AKA, a twerking montage and Kenya reiterating that every time she goes to Home Depot, men are whipping their d-cks out to offer to her. She continues to insist that this is a positive thing that shows how beautiful she is. Just know, that if you are a single gal and able to go about your daily errands without men offering you their dongs, then you should really start working on your personality, because you simply do not have the looks of Miss Kenya Moore.
Nene is acting particularly sedated, and I know it’s not just how she’s acting these days, because I’ve been watching Dancing With the Stars, and that woman can hardly keep her lace front on she’s so happy to still be in the limelight. I guess she’s just much more interested in fox trots and being mean to sweet Tony Dovolani than she is in rehashing her cast mates’ tardiness or how many roles she is constantly turning down because she is such a huge acting star. And she is. She’s a HUGE acting star, and don’t you forget it (even if you can’t find her on a single scripted television show on your dial).
NEXT: “Casper the Friendly Boyfriend” is no Devon Sawa circa 1995…