Bruce's reviews of Victoria Beckham: Coming to America go something like this:
"This is just effing amazing. I mean, really amazing." Followed by an eyeroll, of course.
"Wow, this is heinous TV."
"I'm losing IQ points every time it comes back from commercial break."
And then, with one simple little word and a chuckle from the other side of the couch, it all turned around.
"It was totally worth watching that whole show just to hear Posh say 'knickers'! I'm going to start saying knickers. Look at me in my knickers!"
And so it goes, another convert to crap TV. OK, so he's long been a crap TV connoisseur. But now, after years of wearing him down enough to actually wonder who gets eliminated from America's Next Top Model, he may just also start to care just a teense about itty bitty Posh Spice.
I was surprised a bit myself that Vicky was sort of funny and that she could throw out a good comeback in the midst of posing and trying hard to lift her kabob stick legs that are weighted down by ridiculously heavy shoes that obviously make up more than 25% of her total body weight.
I did have a few broader spectrum observations (or broader spectrum than "Dayyyyum, where'd she get that killer lip gloss?"" and "Who is working on the personal assistant? She went from frumpy to cute in one segment!"). And yes, this is the part where I get all psychoanalytic on Posh's micro-ass, where I invest my 20 academic years into dissecting crap-fabulous "reality" TV.
I'm picking up some serious jealousy/territorial issues from Vicky, no matter how many times the one "I love you" tape is looped or how all-up-on each other she and Becks were in the W photo shoot (which was smokin' hot, am I right?). Several times when people mentioned him -- Perez, the awkward and fragile personal assistant, in her opening monologue -- she reacted defensively. Of course, there's a producer somewhere checking off "dial up suspicions of Posh's jealous nature" from her big clipboard editing and marketing to-do list. However, it makes me curious if all that starvation and obsession with how she looks and posing and pouting is about this air of superiority to mask the insecurity she feels in having a hubs with abs carved out like Crazy Horse.
I'm just wondering.
And in the final reel of little laughs and drunken teetering, did you notice that her people always circle around her? It must take a celeb a little further from reality every time they have to be the center of it all. All day, every day. Don't you think?
You know those moments when you are your most hilarious, most engaging, most en fuego self? Of course you do! You're at a party or a bar and you're telling some crazy story and suddenly there is a little circle of friends around you, laughing and wiping the tears of comedy from their eyes. It is a real rush. And it is also exhausting. Who could keep that up all the time?
Especially Vicky. The woman barely has enough body fat to get her out of bed and into the make-up and hair chair in the morning. How in the hell does she stay at the center of everyone's attention all day long?
Analysis aside, I did quite enjoy the producer-dreamed-up antics that Posh and her people carried out. She was quite cute with Perez and the whole blow-up doll adventure was a hoot. I laughed my ass off at the big old Frankenstein high-heeled "trainers" she wore to throw out the first pitch at a Dodgers game and that all the socialites she partied with clearly picked out the same eyes from the big sheet of options when they had their first face lifts.
So what can I say? I'm hooked. For episode two, I'm dying to see her in carpool and then getting her gossip on with someone else with an unpredictable streak, someone slightly kooky and strangely engaging.
Maybe Lisa Rinna? Nicole Richie? Rebecca Romijn?
Who's the American version of Victoria Beckham and who would be the perfect A- or B-lister to dish out the Hollywood gossip with her?
photo credit: Doug Peters/PA EMPICS/ABACA