Welcome back to Rhode Island. After a promising start to the season, the clams are digging into each others’ dirty laundry and their own. While some are simply floating along, letting the show happen to them, others are seizing control of the plot and catalyzing actual drama in the group. Let’s get into it:
7. Ashley
Poor Ashley has somehow become even more peripheral to, well, everything. It’s not for lack of trying. She and Jared’s coffee struggles are once the subject of her only solo scene of the last two weeks, a 90-minute date at some Italian restaurant across the street from the 3.7-Yelp-rated Audrey’s. Ashley calls Audrey’s a “money pit,” and Jared laments that he’s insecure about returning home from work having made basically nothing, which means that Ashley’s influencer work is the income keeping their family afloat. It’s just a rehash of everything we’ve already heard.
Every other time Ashley appears on screen, it’s as a scene partner to another woman. She’s like that side character that filmmakers put in their movies to ask questions so the protagonist can do exposition, witnessing an explanation of Jo-Ellen and Rulla’s feud, then Rosie’s ambivalence about having kids, then Alicia’s deep dive into her financial horror with Billy. She’s fine at this role, but seems too scared of the rest of the group to really get in the mix.
I’ll give Ashley and Jared one thing: They are professionals. They came to their sad date night ready to film, hitting their marks fast so Jared could get back to pulling espressos for guys named Kevin. But they’re too studied. Craft can’t save bad source material, and until they get into Jared using Audrey’s as a way to avoid his wife, I’m not interested.
6. Rulla
It makes me sad to put Rullala this low on the list. With a chilling husband and miserable home life, she has all the makings of greatness.
Unfortunately, she is also delusional. There’s fun delusional, like Lisa Barlow braying about how she lives a very different life than her castmates or Sherée’s fashion show with no fashions. Then there’s Rulla delusional, which serves to stop storyline dead in its tracks.
Rulla hosts a “Lebanese brunch” with a bunch of non-cast women, who she’s clearly called in to bolster her decision to stay in her marriage. Trad to a tee, they dismiss the possibility of divorce and tell Rulla to attend the Studio 54 party and prove that her marriage is stronger than ever.
Attend they do, though they prove nothing of the sort. As soon as they arrive, Jo-Ellen pulls Rulla for a chat, and the two couples decamp to a gaudy table surrounded by suits of armor and throne chairs. Not only does Brian deny trying to get Jo-Ellen fired — the way he explains it, he was merely chatting with a colleague who volunteered to talk to Jo-Ellen’s boss himself — he’s basically mute, refusing to acknowledge the affair or confirm that it’s over.
“We all have things we do,” he mutters. “I’m not talking about anything.” It’s unclear whether Brian understands that he’s in front of cameras, and he and Rulla’s silent car ride home makes me think she’s at least partially playing along to avoid angering him. It’s very early Tamra and Simon Barney, and it makes me shudder.
That’s about the last we see of Rulla until she hangs out with a bunch of Alicia’s aunts, one of whom tells her to consider if she wants to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, the first comment that seems to breka through her armor.
Rulla has little-to-no solo footage, is no match for Jo-Ellen, and her ties to the group feel tenuous at best despite her history with them: Alicia drops the tantalizing tidbit that Rulla may have been Brian’s mistress back when he was married to Alicia’s Spanish teacher. (“I hope that’s not true, because I really did like my Spanish teacher,” she declares, hands on her heart.) Calling in ringers to film this early is never a good sign, nor is the fact that she’s been grouped with random Rosie and randomer Ashley for the aftershow. With everyone on team “but he is, ma,” Rulla has a rocky road ahead unless she’s willing to admit the glaringly obvious truth about her wreck of a personal life.
5. Rosie
Rosie spends the Studio 54 party commentating Jo-Ellen and Rulla’s confrontation, a perfect metaphor for her place in the group. She then organizes a trip to “Rail Explorers,” an attraction where you pedal railbikes along a scenic path and can drink along the way. She asks Liz’s opinion of Ashley. It’s not high — Liz says Ashley barely looked at her at the July 4th party, and Rosie protests that Liz is so scary, successful, and beautiful, that Ashley is just intimidated.
As soon as they get off the railbikes, she reports this conversation back to Ashley, who is too chicken to bring it up until prompted by Alicia. Liz takes all this in stride, acknowledging her tough exterior. Having failed to ignite drama, Rosie tries again by revealing that Alicia said Liz is always angry. Liz still doesn’t really care, but Alicia flips out, yelling that Rosie is a thirsty bitch, a troll, a whore, and a sneaky little snake. A flashback vindicates Rosie, and she’s smart enough to apologize to Alicia immediately.
I said last week that every franchise needs a shit-stirrer, and they do, but Rosie is playing that role with such little finesse that she risks ending up all alone on an island. Loyalty matters on Housewives, and if Rosie isn’t careful, she’s going to bone collect her way right out of the group.
What is working for Rosie is her anti-fertility storyline. She thought she and Rich were on the same page about kids — maybe we’ll do it, maybe we won’t — but now it seems like he wants them, and she’s still definitely not sure. After an endless line of snoozeworthy fertility storylines often borne out of a desire to keep a man, it’s a refreshing change of pace to see a woman who isn’t really interested.
4. Kelsey
Kelsey’s lore is as weird as ever — we learn that she has eaten McDonald’s hamburgers out of her own trash — but it’s still unclear whether she has the stuff to stand out in the group. Her primary involvement in these last two episodes is the fight she has with Liz at the Studio 54 party. Liz, who is blackout, slurs that she wants to go to the “sea wall” with her husband, Dino, and their friends. “I think not Dino,” Kelsey cautions her. “Because of the ongoing.”
Liz reads this as Kelsey co-signing the rumors of her affair, and flies into a rage. There’s not much Kelsey can do other than cry and flee.
Thankfully, Liz wakes up full of regret, and apologizes. This is where things get interesting: Kelsey reveals that she briefly dated Dino a decade ago, and says she has PTSD from the whole shebang. When she tried to end things, he started “showing up to places,” trying to prevent her from talking to other people, especially men. It feels like Kelsey’s studiously avoiding the word “stalking.” None of this appears to bother Liz, and she waves it off as she and Kelsey having “vastly different experiences.” I still have a lot of questions, but they kiss, make up, and move on.
That said, Kelsey does introduce us to Bill, her childhood acquaintance-turned-side piece. Kelsey’s parents love Bill, but let’s be real — he’s not much to look at, nor does he come with the sugar that Kelsey requires. Another point against him is the heinous salmon-and-slate-blue waistcoat set he shows up to the Studio 54 party in.
Kelsey’s position in the group is clearly well-established. She’s able to laugh and have a good time, and is willing to talk about her own messy life. She tends to sit back in group settings and hesitates to share her own opinions on others a bit too much for my liking, but this neutrality likely keeps her position in the group secure.
3. Jo-Ellen
Away on a work trip to Chicago, Jo-Ellen has limited screen time, but what she does film was stellar. I love her dedication to telling Brian right to his face that he is having an affair as Rullala desperately tries to deny it. I also loved her declaration that she has no intention of hurting Rulla, and only wants to protect her from a shitty husband. This kind of brazen bullishness is crucial to reality success, and will serve her well when she inevitably picks a fight with Liz, the other alpha in this group.
Jo-Ellen’s work trip also means that her sister Jen, of used-to-date-Gary fame, comes over a bunch to help out with laundry and cooking. “She perpetuates this fun flirty game of flirting with my husband, but I know there’s nothing going on,” she says. Gary may have touched Jen’s boobs in high school, and now Jen is joking that she and Gary are like an old married couple and might want Gary’s sperm to have a baby. Okay! Sure!
I missed Jo-Ellen’s presence during the Rail Explorers excursion. I’m itching for another round of her and Rulla, and I know she would have torn out Rosie’s throat for being messy once again. When a housewife’s absence is this noticeable this early on, you know you’ve got something good.
2. Liz
Liz has the honor of giving us RHORI’s first hot-mic moment. After Kelsey activates her, Liz stomps upstairs to scream and yell: “It’s all lies! You have more to hide than me! We are different people!”
Her immediate remorse — “I came off like a bitter, drunken, witch” — followed by a sincere apology is the surest sign yet that she’s got what it takes. There’s nothing wrong with a drunken outburst on Bravo. In fact, I welcome them. But you’ve got to be able to take accountability and move on, instead of digging in your heels the way the women on some other franchises (RHONJ and RHOBH, I’m looking at you) do.
It’s a bonus that the women are all scared of Liz and her towering temper. Perhaps this is why she shrugs off Ashley and Alicia’s light shit-talking — she knows she’s the alpha dog, so what does she care if the betas are yapping? In any case, her nonchalance suggests she understands that not every fight has to be picked, another sign that we’ve got a winner on our hands.
1. Alicia
My queen. After a fifth-place finish last week, Alicia has come roaring back, and I owe her an apology. Last time, I wrote that she “doesn’t seem to have the big skeletons in her closet that her other castmates do.” Boy, was I wrong.
Billy isn’t cheating on Alicia, but he has done something just as bad — made her subordinate in her home and marriage. He won’t put her name on their house, proposed an unconscionable prenup that would leave her without a cent if they were to split up, and generally makes her feel worthless. Alicia’s hesitation to marry Billy comes from childhood trauma — her father left her mother with nothing, turfing them out of their home and forcing her to move to her grandparents’, and Alicia is worried that she’s on the same track. Even Pizza Mamma, which Liz says was all Alicia’s idea down to the concept, decor, and uniforms, is zero percent hers.
At the beach after railbiking, Alicia roleplays a conversation with Kelsey as Billy: “11 years and I’m getting nothing. I gave you my life. I’m the mother of your daughter and I love you. Isn’t that enough? Show me that I’m worth something.” The vulnerability brings her to tears, and I can’t lie — I felt a little prick in my eye too.
Not only does Alicia have all this going on (plus an extensive knockoff Bratz collection she won’t let her daughter play with), she’s also willing to tussle and make up. She lashes out at Rosie, then is hugging and making up with her not five minutes later. “This is why we call Cece the flip-flop!” Liz brays. Marital horror aside, it’s this characteristic that makes Alicia a star — the ability to make up and move on is the grease that keeps the cogs of reality TV turning, and like Liz, Alicia has it in spades.