Excuse me one moment while I throw up. I just finished watching Britney and Kevin: Chaotic, and now I suddenly have the overwhelming compulsion to boot my stomach’s contents into the nearest toilet, wastebasket, or perhaps vase. It’s not because Brit and Kev are nauseatingly idiotic, but rather after an hour of swirling home video footage that makes the Blair Witch Project look like Kubrick, I’m feeling just a tad bit of the old motion sickness. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure if I was going to even recap this reality trainwreck, but after just one minute, I knew this show had to be torn apart… savagely.The episode began with the most unholy of images: an extreme close up of Britney and Kevin kissing. Yes, every acne scar on her face and ever pubic hair on his chin was in full, glorious view. Please let this image not be the standard for the hour.
Next we heard the first of what would be many banal comments by Ms. Spears. “My ideal guy will be someone that hasn’t really seen that much.” You know, someone with a small mind, limited perspective. An idiot, if you will. Ah, but then Britney elaborated: “I’d like to see through him.” Well, luckily she found K-Fed, as transparent a guy as there ever was. Oh wait, she meant vicariously? Oh, well, then Kevin Federline is still a great choice. Now Britney can relive those magical moments: the first time she impregnated another woman, the first time she wore a do-rag, and the first time she finished almost all of the crossword in People Magazine. Yes, Kevin would be able to take her on a magical journey.
Moments later, our eyes were nearly blinded by an extreme close up of Kevin’s face as he muttered, “I care about you.” Aww. Ain’t he the sweetest? He possesses the basic emotional state of a relationship! Oh, and for those of you wondering: yes, we got to see them kissing up close and intimate yet again. Man, this was going to be such a romantic show.
After this obnoxious opening montage, we finally got to hear the big intro theme song, which apparently was sung by all backup singers. Wait, hold on, I think I hear a duck dying. Somebody save that bird! Oh, never mind. It was just Britney’s contributions to the vocal track. Moving on…
The next home video gem came courtesy of a little night-vision action. I reasonably became excited at the prospect of another sex tape scandal, but sadly, we were only privy to Britney making funny faces in the camera. Oh look, she’s making her nose look like a snout! Oh, and now she’s crossing her eyes! And now she’s sticking her jaw out! Oh, that’s good times. I remember when I used to do that… WHEN I WAS EIGHT.
We then cut to a still shot of Britney’s knees. “They look like boobs, but they’re not,” she said. Yes, that’s because they’re KNEES, you moron. Okay, to be fair, she accurately pointed out that they were in fact knees, and I really shouldn’t be so harsh on her searing commentary. It’s not fair really. It’s like making fun of a toddler for having bad grammar. (Taking a moment to reflect on how much more money Britney earns than me. Yeah, that hurts).
Anyway, Brit was in London for some concerts, and so she happily gave us a tour of her hotel suite. There’s the dining room. There’s the living room. And oh look, there’s a piano. The perfect accompaniment for a musician. Now, if only she could convince us that she’s a musician…
Okay, this has all been fun, but now let’s have a serious discourse about relationships, commitment, and life. Yes, Britney decided to hold a roundtable discussion with her stylist and a random repairman who just happened to be fixing her couch (mayhaps a wayward Cheeto disabled the sofa?). It was refreshing to see she surrounded herself with such intellectually stimulating peers. After some muffled, banal remarks, Brit then focused the camera on her frumpy assistant, Felicia, a woman who looked like the composite of every girl in my Hebrew school (with a Southern accent though). Needless to say, she had a schnozz. Anyway, Felicia was one of those giggly, “Why you asking ME this??” people, and thankfully she was off the TV relatively quickly. However, no Felicia means more Brit. And more Brit means more idiotic comments.
“My ideal guy I think for me will be somebody that’s… um… cool.” Wow, she has got to lower her standards. She’ll never find a guy with those picky requirements! Wait a second. People say that I’m cool. That means that I could be her husband! Call me, Brit!
Later, Britney and her crew headed to the UK version of TRL (same show, only instead of Carson Daly, they have fish and chips. It’s actually much more enjoyable). “I get real antsy in cars!” said Britney, adding, “I done get real nervous-like without my keg of Cheetos next to me. Yeah, that’s right. I got Cheetos on tap.”
Luckily, a D-12 song came on the radio, effectively distracting Brit from her eminent antsy breakdown. She immediately began singing along with Eminem as he crooned “These chicks don’t even know the name of my band.” Honestly, I’m not even being a Britney hater when I say her voice was atonal, nasal, and full-on awful. At first I thought she was trying to sound like Eminem, but no, she was really singing. How does this woman have a record contract?
OKAY EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING! It’s Felicia Cam! Literally. A little title came on the screen to verify this. Yes, our favorite bashful assistant was helming the camera now. Anything could happen! What would this young Jane Campion capture? Uh, nothing. Just the backs of Britney’s two lumbering bodyguards. Great job, Felicia!
After TRL and Felicia Cam™, Britney decided to pester her dancers with questions about commitment and marriage. Once again, we sat through a series of vacuous responses as pretty much all the dancers said they really weren’t into marriage. Oh really? A dancer who’s on the road most weeks of the year doesn’t like commitment? I never would have guessed!
Well, Britney bonded with one of her dancers as they both moaned about not having a companion. “We’ll both be Bitter Betties–” started the dancer. “Together!” said Britney, joining in. The two then giggled loudly. I could just imagine Britney guffawing, “Haha, you said ‘together’ too! That’s hysterical! We said it… together! HAHAAHAHAHA!!! That’s rich. Pass the Cheetos.”
We now pause for boobies.
Later, we found Britney huddled in the backseat of a car, explaining how Felicia just had to get laid. Seriously, there has to be a toucan around that would be into her.
After the car ride, the Brit posse arrived at Wembley Stadium for her big show. “You guys are gonna get to see my peeps in the hizzio!” Britney exclaimed. Oh and by the way, Snoop slang is now officially dead-izzle. As for the actual concert, Britney told us that “I’m not really nervous.” Yeah, the lip-synching can really take the edge off of performance anxiety.
We then moved to another day as Britney stood on her hotel balcony and looked out over London. “There are the paparazzi taking pictures of me down there!” she boasted as she zoomed in on the street below her. To our shock we saw… mothers pushing their children on swing sets. My god! They’re hiring children now! Have the paparazzi no shame! Oh, by the way, a few moments later, we saw that there actually were some photographers down there. Damn them. Documenting her every move for profit! Her life is personal! And I know that because I was watching her home videos on UPN. Shameful paparazzi.
Anyway, the whole experience caused our pop tart to muse philosophically. “People can take everything away from you, but they can never take away your truth.” Huh? That makes no sense. Literally. Not one iota of sense. “Can you handle my truth?” Britney then asked. Quite frankly, I can’t. Because your truth is retarded.
Hey look! It’s the Snapple Lady! Oh wait, it’s just Felicia. Yes, our shy assistant popped up on camera to introduce the day’s big question: what’s your favorite sex position? Pressing issues! Luckily, all of Britney’s entourage was too inarticulate to make any thoughtful or witty replies. Her bodyguard made the only attempt at a clever response by saying “in the bedroom,” but this befuddled Brit as she declared him “so sweet!” It really wasn’t that sweet. Honestly. JC Chasez, meanwhile, got sucked into this mess (no pun intended) as Britney hounded him with the question over and over again. He modestly shied away from the camera, saying that there were just too many positions that he loved. Fascinating. Eventually the whole segment ended on a blithely idiotic note as Britney found herself distracted by a mirror. “This is weird. We’re looking at ourselves in the mirror!” she said. Yeah, that tends to happen when you see your reflection. You should check out the window. It lets you see through walls! I know, crazy right?
Felicia moonlights as the stunt double for Wendy the Snapple Lady
Finally, after what felt like hours of this nonsense, Kevin Federline showed up looking like the dirtbag hobo that patrols my neighborhood. With greasy, unkempt hair and a patchy beard, K-Fed reminded us why we should never let pop stars date people in homeless shelters. Britney of course described her first encounter with Kevin quite romantically: “He was very, um, very mysterious. He just seemed not fazed by anything.” Mysterious? Not fazed? Okay, basically, he was passed out in a gutter when she tripped over him.
“I rubbed KFC in my hair this morning. It was pretty sweet.”
Well, as the story goes, Britney met Kevin at a club and then flew him out to London to be with her on the tour. It was during these magical days that we caught up with the couple in the second part of Chaotic. Brit tried to capture her beau on camera, but he flitted away, crying out “I’m camera shy!” Yes, as evidenced by all the photos he’s taken for Details, People Magazine, and any other publication willing to give him more than three seconds of attention.
Ah, but the best Federline philosophizing was yet to come. Britney asked him how he felt about marriage (she explained that this was some reverse psychology trick to make him think that she didn’t like him. I don’t really get it. She flew him across the world. Kind of hard to play that shit down). Anyway, regarding marriage, Kevin said in a torturously slow cadence: “I feel that love is love. Love has… love is a commitment. I don’t believe in marriage. I believe you can get married.” He then added, “Anyway, in case you haven’t realized, I’m a complete idiot.”
Then coming in like a breath of fresh air was Mo, one of Britney’s security guards. He informed us that he hated Kevin at first. He thought he was just along for the ride. Really? What gave you that impression? Kevin’s general poseur ways? The fact that he’s been steadily climbing the Hollywood social ladder ever since he left Fresno? Or maybe just the dollar signs in his eyes and that strange KA-CHING noise that follows him around?
Well, Britney was in love with K-Fed, although, she admitted that if she could marry anyone, it would be Brad Pitt (start the Aniston breakup rumors now). She then asked Kevin which celebrity he would marry if he had the chance. “None of y’all!” he answered, adding “I’m just kidding! I already impregnated an actress. I’m a complete star f–ker! Literally!” Okay, I made that last part up. Clearly Kevin was being serious when he said “None of y’all!” After all, he doesn’t believe in marriage. Love is love, DUH!
By the end of the hour, the courtship of Kevin suddenly intensified as Britney bragged that they had had sex three times in one day already. So much for that whole plan to make him think that you don’t like him. “I’ll give him my vagina, and then he’ll really know I don’t like him. Reverse psychology again!” Anyway, Britney told us all this on yet another edition of FeliciaCam™, which featured an annoying lopsided camera angle for about two minutes. At the end, Felicia giggled, “Please tell me it [the camera] got this!” Yes, it did, and it’s SIDEWAYS! You may have noticed when you were holding the camera in your hands SIDEWAYS!
As for the future Mr. Spears, he had made himself quite at home in Britney’s posse, not even caring that he was holding up the whole crew as he got into his clothing. Britney bugged him over and over to hurry up, but she just didn’t get it. It takes a while to get into an extra-long white t-shirt. Respect that.
Honestly, by about forty-five minutes into the program, my voyeuristic impulses had given way to general boredom and malaise. Not even Britney’s moronic “interpretation” of a painting could save this hour. I know I’ll be watching every week, if only to provide commentary, but man, these two make Nick and Jessica seem like Pierre and Marie Curie. Their life isn’t so much “Chaotic” as it is simply “Dumb.”
The most symbolic image of the entire show.