It’s fitting that the last thing David bestows upon Kate is a glob of snot on her bare shoulder, but we’ll return to David’s errant bodily fluids in just a moment. See, first we need to get back to David’s pressing need to itemize for Kate all of the very many ways he humiliated and betrayed her during the last month, and he – like every garden variety sociopath who has come before him – will claim that he is telling her this information all in the name of honesty while conveniently ignoring the fact that retrospective honesty doesn’t fucking count for anything. But because he believes he owes her the respect of telling her just how cavalierly he chose to emotionally gut her, here’s what Dave tells Kate for purposes of her own edification:
If you’re anything like me, you’re currently doing five things right now:
1. Looking forward to Kate impaling Dave with a pointy piece of firewood at the final Bonfire.
2. Quickly throwing together a betting pool so you can win some money if you happen to guess with the exact gallon of tears Casey will shed when his “sales pitch” to become Ashley’s husband doesn’t work.
3. Paging through Psychology textbooks to make sure you clearly understand the symptoms of “delusions of grandeur” because you think it’s very important to properly diagnose the people you write about in your recaps.
4. Including “Never go on a fucking reality show” in your growing list of New Year’s Resolutions. To be fair, such a creed has been on that list for well over a decade, but so has “Stop swallowing gum” and sometimes you falter a bit with that one.
5. Coming to terms with the idea that there is no way this episode will not end on a cliffhanger. Sure, we will get some satisfaction, but we will have to wait until the show’s final episode to really know what will happen with the four couples who arrived on this island together and then betrayed one another in every conceivable way possible.
I’ve come to realize that watching Temptation Island is similar in some ways to having an addiction. There are very high highs and some seriously low lows and yet I keep chasing that dragon and coming back for more, even though I could be using the time it takes me to write these recaps to catch up on all the Faulkner I intentionally skipped over the years. (That man went on for pages about shit like flora and fauna.) But the biggest reason I feel Temptation Island is similar to an addiction is because the action has become repetitive. We’re on episode nine now, and certain things probably won’t change. Ashley H. will still be amazed by some new boy’s kisses. Casey will still be crying over how poorly things have turned out for him. Gavin will continue to look stunned by Esonica’s growing confidence. Rick, who saw way too much the first week to be stunned by anything at this point, will ride out the next few days until he can finally reunite with Ashley G. and then he will sit quietly while she investigates the imaginary subtext that’s not actually flowing through whatever conversation they’ll have beside a Bonfire. And Dave? Dave will still have the gall to swear up and down that Kate is and has always been his top priority and then he will prove it by promising his future to Toneata.
When it comes to the video messages that closed last week’s episode, I think it’s rather clear that Casey would have actually preferred for the little stringy-haired girl from The Ring to come crawling out of his iPad instead of what he got, which was Ashley, her voice dripping with flagrant signs of emotional disengagement. The guy is in a rough place right now, and though I initially expected he’d drown his shock and sorrow by cavorting with a walking Very Bad Idea like Payton, I now think he will spend the rest of his time on that island weeping into coconut fronds, an image that really only makes for good TV for about fifteen minutes or so. After that, it begins to look slightly pathetic.
It all comes down to the simple question of what these people truly want. Think about it. Dave obviously wanted to have a threesome at some point in his life – and with that hair, I will not so much as even entertain the notion that he’s had a shot at one before – and being on this show allowed him to dive dick-first into some debauchery. Ashley G. (and the skilled group of editors tasked with turning her into character) allowed us to see that what she values most is constant validation. As for Casey, the guy who is currently pounding the wooden plank upon which he literally sits and is metaphorically walking, well, Casey must value snagging himself a semblance of fame. I can think of no other reason to explain why he’d talk his significant other into coming on a show with such a shit track record when it comes to couples staying together. He brought Ashley there. He thrust her into a scenario where it was at least a possibility that another guy would eventually join her in some thrusting. Whether or not Casey has behaved himself thus far on that island is not really the issue; if he wanted to prove his fidelity, he could have done that shit on the mainland. No, Casey had to be looking for something besides clarity and my guess is that “something” involved becoming pretend famous – and now here we are. The guy is momentarily famous for looking like a sap and the only thing that shocks me about any of it is that he has the nerve to appear surprised.
After the tragic denouement of last week’s episode wherein participants of this show were symbolically impaled by literal betrayal, it seems now may be a good time to regroup. So while you stretch and thank everyone in your life for never dragging you onto a reality show, I’m going to make a few predictions about what I think will happen to these people in the coming weeks:
Before anyone who partook in the sweet little threesome that closed the last episode can shift the narrative to something that seems more convenient, let’s first be clear: not a bit of that “just happened.” There was ample time for any one of those pseudo adults to decide not to hop into a bed located inside of a room they know full well is rigged out with cameras. They could have come to their scattered senses in, say, the bathroom – you know, where the guy (the one who told his girlfriend she’s his one and only) was showering with another woman – or they could have halted things in the hallway leading to the bed or they could have ceased the debauchery as they stood around musing that they weren’t accustomed to threesomes. And yes, I know alcohol clouds things and I also know that’s why there’s so much alcohol on that fucking island, but I will have far more respect if any of these desperate individuals just stands up and says, “Yup. I participated. I wanted to experiment sexually and have fun and I plan on slipping my grandparents a powerful sedative prior to this episode airing so I will not in any way be responsible for a coronary incident that could take place when they view me gyrating atop two relative strangers” than if they now choose the sheepish route on the guilt-paved highway.
Also: Tell me one more time that these Tempters came on this show to find true love. I fucking dare you.
Where last we left him, Rick was sitting beside a smoldering fire watching footage of his girlfriend of four years getting slammed by a man she’s known for four days. So what I’m saying here is that no matter how bad your week has been, Rick’s has probably been worse. But as he watches KB and Ashley writhe around under the covers, he holds it together like a champ. He does not cry. He does not scream. He does not fall to his knees to begin gathering blades of grass and small rocks and twigs that he can fashion into an Ashley voodoo doll. Instead, he informs Mark he’s not sure his relationship can recover from this, and my presumption is that any clinically normal viewer would agree with him.
Yes, Temptation Island is a show centered around the absolutely batshit premise that couples are supposed to swan dive into experiences in which their fidelity is tested over and over and over again. True, the participants are forced to keep up with the shenanigans of their significant others via carefully spliced pieces of footage that are presented without context while they sit anxiously beside a bonfire. Sure, not having the full story about what’s really going down, nor the ability to speak to the person you love during the process, is nothing but a finely orchestrated mindfuck. And of course a part of me believes you’d have to be, at the very least, flirting with clinical insanity to so much as even entertain the idea of applying to be on this program. But there is one positive thing: the people on this show take care of one another. Though she’s miserable after having to say goodbye to her boyfriend, Kate is there to pat Ashley H.’s head as Ashley bawls her eyes out. Esonica crawls right into bed with Ashley G. and wraps her arms around her as Ashley talks about how she knows herself so well, that she knows exactly the kind of thing she’s capable of doing that will lead to the definite destruction of her relationship. She knows – she just knows – that Rick will do something foolish or hurtful and she will then overreact to his behavior and retaliate with something that will prevent him from ever forgiving her. As a fellow human who wants good things for the others in my species, I wish Ashley would stop herself from doing what she knows will destroy her, but I’m also impressed by any reality show participant who’s packing even an ounce of self-awareness. It’s only episode two, and I am already rooting for these women. They are fully cognizant of what they’re about to deal with, they’re justifiably freaked out, and they are there for each other – and that kind of shit is just easier to root for than, say, a winking bartender or a man and his deac.
If there are two things the thirteenth installment of The Fast & the Furious franchise taught us this summer, it’s that 1) People really enjoy watching bald men beating the shit out of bad guys while stopping mid-punch to say something quippy and 2) There will always be something new and shiny to blow up onscreen – and that includes relationships. Temptation Island doesn’t exactly fall into the Action movie category. Not one literal explosion occurred last season and nobody participated in a high-speed car chase over a rickety bridge like the boys who hail from Fast & Furious Land – soon to be a theme park attraction the moment Disney buys yet another studio! – but a shitload of emotional implosions did go down. Remember? Three couples broke up, two relative strangers got engaged, and the former long-term live-in girlfriend of the now-betrothed-to-another had her heart fileted on national television as she sat beside a motherfucking bonfire. Even while the girl’s tears were still steaming down her cheeks, it was clear the series would get renewed, and now it’s back with four new couples somehow willing to put themselves into catastrophic scenarios. So settle in, dear readers! It’s time to embark on season 2 of Temptation Island, where relationships will fail spectacularly under the hot Hawaiian sun if casting agents did their jobs properly. We can go ahead and call it Temptation Island 2: Too Fast, Too Furious, and Way Too Fucking Willing to Risk a Relationship Just So You Can Nab a Verified Twitter Account. I’ll be watching with popcorn and perhaps a chastity belt.
