Because nothing screams: I WANNA BE IN A SERIOUSLY COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP like going on a reality dating TV show, predicated on lies and shallowness. Unlike The Bachelor or Bachelorette though, I Wanna Marry “Harry” shuttles only twelve contests, who are also likely there “not to make friends”, across the pond for eight weeks but are never told definitively told who their mysterious suitor is.
I know a free trip aboard sounds great and all, but hasn’t anyone seen Taken or Hostel?
Granted, the most common thing Americans know about the United Kingdom’s monarchy isn’t sinister, more along that line of, the Queen is fond of Corgis and the Duchess has faboosh hair. Regardless Fox takes the transformation of regular English lad Matt Hicks (get it, HICKS! CAUSE HE’S JUST LIKE US! WINKY FACE EMOJI) into Prince “Harry” very seriously, discovered in a montage where he does Prince-y stuff. Ya know, the usual: fencing, not calling champagne flutes “shot glasses”, remembering that Harry is a Virgo.
Oh boy, but If Matt/Harry thought he could get away with just having a British accent and 99% facial match with the Prince, well…it actually might be. Half the battle seems to be letting the women wildly speculate amongst each other and then having Prince Ma’Harry answer their questions with grade school-esque taunting, “what’s your name?” “that’s for me know and you to find out…” Can we say SPA-LOOSH? No?
Okay, I’m putting the cart before the horse. Surely, if you’re like me – reality TV show junkie, the first thought you had when you read the logline to the show was: Yeah but, who’s dumb enough to buy that? He’s royalty, not the Kardashians. Did we learn nothing from Joe Millionaire?
Hey, we’re talking about Fox, they gave Dads an entire season but cancelled Arrested Development (NEVER FORGET).
So they plucked Hicks literally out of a ditch, don’t worry it’s part of his normal gig as an oil spill cleaner-upper, and at the spire age of 23, Matt has had a hard time getting the ladies. He thinks this is because he’s poor, he doesn’t even have enough money to buy his own bike! Quelle horreur! But how does Ma’Harry think the best way to go about fixing his dilemma is? Lie to ‘em, fuck it. He already gets mistaken for the Prince on daily basis anyway, so it’s a proven fact, bitches love Princes. Especially when you trick them into thinking you are one.
Welp, in order to agree to this heaping pile of deception, you would have to be slightly…dim, right? Because if this is Hicks’ idea of “finding love”, he might as well find the last drunk chick at the bar and tell her nearly anything he want and voila, laid. But then we’d have nothing to watch, so let’s meet the ladies.
From moment one, they are high off cameras and the Downton Abbey digs, doesn’t seem like it’ll be that complicated to continue to pull the wool over these women eyes. Give them enough distractions and made-up things to fight over and, the dude they’re already calling “Boyfriend” within 20 minutes of the show, could be the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man for all they care.
First up, we meet Maggie, not super clear on what it is she does for living other than appear like she’s recently stumbled from the club, no matter the time. Jet lag is not kind to her. Meghan assures us she’s the perfect pick because she can cook and looks “banging in a bikini”. Thank you for sharing, please sit down. My personal frontrunner is Chelsea, who cares only about two things: carne asada and your ass not being broke if she’s gonna date you. That’s faux-princess material right thur.
Anyway so Winston, or whatever demeaning name they gave the guy playing “Butler”, tells the ladies to go upstairs and get ready for the Masquerade Ball tonight.
In between the abrupt cattiness, we get more floating head bio’s about the rest of the contestants.
There’s Karina, at 25 deemed quickly an “oldie” by the group. If this is how they greet each other, I cannot wait to see how they’ll interact at week six. Kimberly, who doesn’t care if it’s Prince Harry or not, she just wants someone to buy her drive-thru. Kimberly is also under the impression Michael Jackson is alive and slips back into her Marisa Tomei My Cousin Vinny accent after a couple drinks. I think she and I just became best friends.
Miss Los Angeles, Anna Lisa, is only looking to become a real-life princess. Man, her disappointment might end up being the best. Rose describes herself as a “naughty preschool teacher”, which would be a turn-on if she didn’t look like she wants to wear the skin of everyone in the room. Until they arrive at the masquerade ball in the backyard, Jacqueline, who refers to herself as a “bitch” is only person to be openly skeptical of the whole thing.
Yeah, it is pretty ridiculous that you’re all calling each other names over a guy YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. Like, at all. Not even his first name. We’re better than this ladies!
At the ball, Kimberly is too stunned by the “fire breathing dragons”, which are human beings dressed in black, spinning batons merely lit on fire, to even register what’s going on. But “banging bikini” Meghan must of come across those naked photos of Harry in Vegas because she’s all, nah – ain’t him. She probably only stuck around afterwards to watch Maggie get way-wasted and slur “Sir” at all the waiters, I would of.
Ma’Harry gets to know the ladies but can’t around the notion that American girls are hella loud. And forward. Maybe you’re still single because you’re a giant puss, Matt. Just a thought from a loud American girl.
At midnight, whether Ma’Harry happens to find his detachable penis or not, he’s gotta pick two women. One to move into the house – which makes me think, are they camping outside? And one woman to send packing. After a non-dramatic mask reveal, loud whispering “IT’S HIM” – who-him?, it comes down between old crazy eyes Rose, and a chick I forgot to talk about, Leah.
Phew, good thing no one got too used to Leah cause Ma’Harry sends her packing. Extending the keys to the Crown Suite to Rose, who’ll probably cut off some of his hair in his sleep.
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