Last Thursday I attended the VIP reception for a Dali exhibit, which I wrote about in an earlier post. I saved the juicy gossip part of the evening for a few days, because I didn’t want my entire experience to be tainted by the trashy folks at Bravo.
As I stood in an endless bar line, a commotion distracted me from my boredom. I couldn’t place it at first, but there was a large film crew and bevy of bizzare looking women. The amount of plastic surgery was shockingly apparent from a distance. Their makeup was more caked on than the models who walked a fashion show later that evening. The only attractive thing to say about these women is that they were truly thin. Other than that, they were frightening to see. I overheard someone say it was the Real Housewives of Miami, and after a few blinks I realized that was true.
I stood in front of them and had my husband snap a picture. I uploaded it to facebook with the caption: Real Housewife of Miami in front of Unreal Housewives of Miami. Cute, huh? It got a lot of likes.
Turns out the Real Housewives of Miami was shooting an episode at the event. I was surprised because I thought that franchise had been cancelled. It received poor ratings and didn’t even garner renting a ballroom for the reunion episode. As I watched their final, incomprehensible reunion show where the housewives sat cramped on the couches of Andy Cohen’s set, I thought that Bravo didn’t even want to spend another dime on Miami. I guess I was wrong.
I think I’ve admitted to the horror of being addicted to Bravo trash TV before. It’s something I’m quite ashamed of because it really doesn’t fit the rest of my personality, but the term guilty pleasure is apt to apply. The Housewives franchise is one of my favorites. I especially love Beverly Hills. When they finally rolled out a Miami version, I was excited, but it was so boring and failed to capture the mystique of my city, so I don’t even know the names of the women. It was just so tedious to watch. But there they were before me, a captive audience.
I know that reality TV isn’t real, but watching exactly how unreal it is as it was filmed really opened my eyes. First of all, the women did not attend the exhibit or reception. They came to a prepared table in the midst of an event, but they didn’t interact with anyone, view the art or even have a drink. It was a complete set up.
They had a very animated conversation, but the music was so loud, they couldn’t genuinely hear each other. Naturally they were miked, so the cameras could record it. But being in the same place, I can tell you there was no way people could discus anything from the distances they were from each other. It was scripted or semi-scripted at best. Everyone else in the venue had to speak right next to each other to be heard.
As they shot the scene, they frequently took breaks and acted just like actresses. They separated, relaxed, and fussed with make up, completely disengaged. Then, after fiddling with mikes, seating, and continutity issues, they went back to work and raised their emotions and facial expressions. It was completely acting. Bad acting, but acting just the same.
I’d file all this that under whatever. I don’t really care too much about it, but their crew was out-of-control horrible which ruined much of the event. They constantly cut in a very long line for the bar, when they really should have been WORKING. They were rude and abusive to the real attendees, yelling and threatening them without basis. But the worst, the absolute worst, was when they turned out all the lights to improve their own camera lighting.
Let me remind you: THIS WAS AN ART EXHIBIT!
It was a visual experience! Apparently, Bravo considers The Real Houswives of Miami more important than the the work of Salvador Dali. And for that, I thank them:
It just got so easy to kick my last bad habit.
ZAP!
Leave a Reply