. . . but it is def. comedy gold. At least it seems that way during this episode's brilliant first 30 seconds. We open with -- what else? -- bitching. Upon entering an SUV, Bobby and Whitney bicker about their courtship ("She chased me for two years! You called me every night," says Bobby. "Ewww. That don't even sound like me!" counters Whit), even though they've clearly gone over this so many times ("Y'all met at the Soul Train Awards!" yell Bobbi Kristina and some other unidentified little girl from the backseat). Bob then mentions putting "the thing" on Whit. "Is it the thing that it is? Thing?" asks Whit. "It was a thing," says Bob. "Get outta here," snaps Whit. And then she hisses. Like a cat. Yay. This is going to be good!
And then: freefall. My hopes are dashed immediately after the credits (it's just him, y'all), when Bobby announces, "Today, the Brown men are gonna go shopping for our camping trip. No girls allowed!" Fuck.
The Whit-less first few minutes are, of course, unexciting as Bobby staggers around a sporting goods store, reveling in the excess of Whitney's bank account. He finds his way to the guns and settles on one with chilling speed. Faced with the prospect of having to fill out misdemeanor-revealing paperwork, Bobby moves on to look at guns of the paint and BB varieties. When his brother Tommy points out how stupid he's being, Bobby dances.
And just when I start to cry about the best thing on TV (in the world ever, perhaps) abandoning me, we're suddenly camping and meeting Pop Brown. What was Being Whitney Houston's Husband becomes Being Pop Brown's Son. "Pop Brown is like the coolest father in the world," explains Bobby. "Everybody loves him. He was the one in the house that was, y'know, the entertainer." Clearly. He's a social commentator (the words on setting up the tent below are his, not Bobby's) . . .
. . . limber as hell . . .
. . . and extremely dedicated to his son's career (again, his words, not Bobby's) . . .
OMG! "Roni" is my jam, too! And then, as if he hasn't displayed enough wonderful taste, he requests another jam. "If I . . . If I . . . what?" rasps Pop. That's all it takes to launch Bobby into a surprisingly competent rendition of his 1992 hit "Good Enough." God, it's a good song.
Listen for yourself.
And then, gas + close confines = funny. It's all about the beans. I can't believe this show made me write that.
Growing . . . impatient . . . until . . . Whitney! She announces she'll be joining the group, as though that wasn't in the plot outline in the first place. Bitching ensues. Whitney's wrath is so strong that even after Bobby thinks he's hung up and closes his phone, her voice continues to blare. Just like in A Nightmare on Elm Street when Nancy pulls the phone out of the wall and it rings anyway and, when she answers it, Freddy's mouth is the mouthpiece and he licks her.
"If Whitney's coming, all my attention's gonna go to her," Bobby voiceovers. Yeah. I know the feeling. Then, Bobby and his crew fish stupidly. Finally, 15 minutes into this fucking half hour, Whitney shows up. She does not disappoint.
"Y'all didn't hear that!" shouts Whitney right after this dirty talk. Yes we did. All million of us.
"We're having a baby. This time he's carrying it."
And then, in this week's Most Unnecessary Exchange (MUE from now on), Whit and Bob spar with an incredibly dweeby, sexually-awkward-even-though-he's-reciting-lines guy on a waverunner (or whatever that thing is).
They ask him for a ride, he heckles them about their financial situation, they go back and forth blahblahstagedblah. Bravo, why are you so weird? Why would you map out an episode tailored to show that Whit and Bob's craziness is so versatile, it's also entertaining in private, and then place them in a situation where they're forced to interact with a member of the public? Maybe if these were just crazy people, they'd need plot outlines. But these are crazy people with opinions. These crazy people have something to say. Always. Seriously, I could stare at a blank screen and listen to Whitney rant and still be more entertained than I would be if I were watching any number of one-hour dramas. Just to prove my point, I'm offering the first half (or so) of Whitney's infamous Wendy Williams interview that aired Jan. 30, 2003 (that was post-Dateline, and even more batshit). Try to not be entertained. And if you don't have 10 minutes, forward to 7:53 to hear Wendy's question and Whitney's awesome, awesome response.
Download here and thanks to onenami1lion for the hookup.
Anyway, Whitneywhitneywhitney and Bob hit the water anyway in their "yacht blow-up boat" that's really just a . . . blow-up boat.
Whitney rows like she has spina bifida.
I love the shot below because when they're in that spot, she comments on how "relaxing" and "nice" it is. Meanwhile, that boat in the background is totally going to hit them!
Sadly, it doesn't. The pop-culturally literate couple start yelling "Jason Vorhees!" in reference to the post-climax climax of Friday the 13th. Guys, we are so on the same page.
Nasty's a good word to describe this episode. Bobby eventually develops a stomachache that could only be one thing:
Fed up, Whitney reads a gossip rag as she waits to leave the campground. She says how much she loves Jay-Z. Someone in her crew comments on Beyoncé. I'm gonna assume that was Skenecia (whose name was instantly noticable when Whitney told Bobby via phone who she was bringing camping), and I'm going to assume that Skenecia is the one on the left below with the cigarette in her mouth. Cuz really, how could she not be?
Whit on Beyoncé: "Her eyes are beautiful. She really is lovely." Then she pleas to be invited to her and Jigga's wedding, which, duh. God, could it be that I have more faith in Whit's starpower than she does?
Whit also reveals that she loves Jennifer, just not which Jennifer.
Finally they leave. Bobby, who was cooking despite the alien-torn hole in his chest, laments that Whit's rushing meant he didn't get a chance to eat his chicken. Big. Loss.
Though this episode had its moments, nothing in it came close to topping last week's Harrod's segment, among the funniest 10 minutes of television I've seen all year (and I'm a rabid ANTM devotee!). This time around, the violence was at a minimum . . .
. . . and so were the great Whit faces . . .
But I bet that'll all change next week. I'm sorry Whit, I couldn't hear you. Did you say that Mother's Day is Hell Day . . .
. . . or Look Like Hell Day?
Either way, can't wait!