Joan Vassos carries the weight of the show seemingly without effort, all the while wearing a skintight lamé gown.
In the spirit of reality TV, first, a confession: I fully expected to loathe the new Golden Bachelorette series on ABC. Having watched The Golden Bachelor, overwhelmed by the cringe factor — cheesy jokes about sexual prowess and an overabundance of boobage, not to mention (but I will) the Golden Bachelor’s unctuous sincerity — I figured it’d all be the same, but with gender roles reversed.
I was wrong. And I think the difference between the shows is largely due to the graciousness and remarkable authenticity of Joan Vassos, the 61-year-old Bachelorette. From the moment she’s greeted at the Bachelor mansion by Jesse Palmer (the host with a thousand teeth), she carries the weight of the show seemingly without effort, all the while wearing a skintight lamé gown. She’s like the school administrator — which in fact, she is — who could inform you of your kid’s suspension in a way that makes you feel like he’s valedictorian.
A little background before we begin. Vassos, widowed after 32 years of marriage, was a contestant on the Golden Bachelor but left the show in the middle of the season to help her daughter (one of her four children) suffering from a difficult pregnancy and birth. When she was called back about taking her own turn as The Golden Bachelorette, she didn’t seem to give a thought to not accepting the … journey. In the premiere, she meets 24 eligible bachelors ranging in age from 57 to 69, and has to winnow the group in half.
About those 24 eligible bachelors. I don’t know where the producers of the show found these guys, but as one of the 24 observes with a bit of self-congratulation, “There’s no shortage of stallions in the stable from which to choose.”
I’d say he was right, which brings me to the unreality of this reality TV journey. Ask any woman over, say, 50 (I’m 73), how her experience in the dating world is going and you’ll get an answer similar to what one woman recently told the New York Times, “It’s exhausting. … It’s like panning for gold in a sewer.”
I guess it helps to have producers doing the panning for you, because these suitors all seem to be good-looking (in various middle-aged ways), kind, family-oriented, relatively well-off and generous, especially with their assessment of Vassos. She is pretty, kind and clearly sophisticated about her emotional life — like most of the women I know. But the bachelors talk about her as if she were the second coming of Christ. This was the only thing that sounded canned to me, because lovely Vassos is not unusual; it’s the men who seem unusual in so often and vigorously expressing their appreciation of her.
One reason this series is far less cringeworthy is because sex, so far at least, is not top of the agenda.
The women competing for Gerry Turner’s attention on The Golden Bachelor were either prompted to play up their sexuality or naturally fell back on it as a seduction point. Which is no surprise, as traditionally, women’s physical attractiveness, tightly tied to our sexuality and reproductive vigor, is often our currency. For men, though, their currency has traditionally been their ability to provide for a safe, comfortable environment. The move away from overt sexuality is evident in Vassos’s gown — tight and shimmery, but exposing very little — and in the mens’ mostly formal shirts and ties. And, as if in a nod to tradition, Vassos chooses to give the first impression rose to Keith, who she says, at 6 feet 5 and teddy bear-like, makes her feel safe.
Vassos’s graciousness does not go untested: A Josh Brolin look-alike emerges from the limo warbling “I Did It My Way,” his way being loud and slightly off-key; another approaches Vassos with a couple of shot glasses of prune juice (to make things seem regular); a third crawls out of the limo with a cane, drops it, and collapses to the ground, where he commences one-arm pushups.
She manages somehow to maintain her dignity throughout. Even in a chaotic pickleball scene, with balls flying everywhere (an apt and enjoyable metaphor), she gamely swats and ducks in her gown, nearly gets whacked in the face and yet appears to be having fun. I wish I could see outtakes.
In the final scene where Vassos delivers the news about who’s staying and who’s going home, the men are lined up funereally, as if waiting for their executions. It’s easy to see why Vassos is unnerved and upset by her charge: Some of these guys have demonstrated their eagerness to please and to compete like schoolboys, with a kind of innocence and vulnerability we rarely see in men in general.
In the premiere episode alone, they’ve cried watching a video of their kids (and one mom) professing love and wishing them luck, they’ve admitted their loneliness and guilelessly expressed their dreams of happy companionship. I’m already partial to one of them — Jordan, the guy who would’ve been my best friend in high school — and it will be entertaining to see how Vassos makes her choice, and why.
