This week on The Hills, tonight is the big night! At last, a climax! That’s the plan anyway. Come on, Hills. We’ve flirted, I’ve bought you dinner and been patient even when you lied to me and made me promises that weren’t real and forced me to listen to your boring ass problems ad nauseum. Let’s please not go on break without one good hard bang. I’ll make you breakfast!
Will there be fireworks?
Yay! Lisa Love is back this week with her crooked mouth and odd intonations. She welcomes Whitney into her office, where she introduces her to nerdy Kimball from New York and announces somewhat abruptly that Whitney is going to Paris to help Kimball with the Creole Ball. Maybe she said Crown Ball. I don’t care, I think they’re going to eat gumbo and dance to zydeco music underneath the Eiffel Tower.
Whitney is very pleased and then it occurs to her that she already fake went to Paris, so she says, “Again?” to try to help the story line along. That Whitney is such a team player. Lisa Love tells her she’s “the chosen one” which is not only a perfect example of the exaggerated sense of importance Lisa has about herself and the fashion world in general, it also seems like Matrix-speak. Is Whitney going to wear black leather, catch a bullet, and save the human race? Is that the big twist? How fucking awesome!
No one will make Bill and Ted jokes about you ever again.
Kimball brags about how cool the Creole Ball is, describing it as the most surreal mix of celebrities, children, authentic aristocrats (who, by the way, are not the hilariously lewd family auditioning for a variety show), and royalty. It does sound like a fun group of people, except for the children, the authentic aristocrats, and celebrities. Lisa suggests atonally that maybe Whitney will come back as a princess. Lisa Love is so fucking weird. First, the fairy tale aspect of the “joke” seems bizarre coming from a powerful female editor, and, let’s say Whitney did marry a prince, she sure wouldn’t be coming back to work at Teen Vogue.
Whitney, as usual, gracefully rolls with it. Lisa tells her she’ll have fun and work very hard. “As always,” responds Whitney, as if she never got drunk with the band the night before the photo shoot she was responsible for. As she exits, she inquires as to whether Lauren is going, too. Lisa says the line we’ve seen in all the previews: “I think Lauren had her chance to go to Paris.” Bitch.
In other dying dreams news, Heidi forlornly makes herself a cup of coffee in the Rezhouse kitchen. New Kimberly joins her for break time, and asks her what’s up. Without taking a breath, Heidi dumps her shit on her: big fight with the Monchichi, she told the sister she was worried, the sister told him she has cold feet, etc. etc. Heidi is that coworker you’re always trying to avoid, as is obviously expressed in NK’s face. “Right,” she says, like she’s tired of hearing it.
She suggests that maybe Speidi keep fighting because they’re not getting to the root of the problem. Oh, you mean the root that is slowly wrapping itself around Heidi’s tiny neck? The root named Monchichi? Heidi feels like she’s having a relationship with a five-year-old, but I think that’s rather generous of her. I’d guess him at 24 months. He’s walking and talking, but doesn’t have a lot of cognitive skills yet, and he throws a lot of tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants. Heidi looks spent, but she’s a good enough friend to put her own worries aside for a minute to ask NK how she’s adjusting to Hollywood. Just kidding.
Yawn. Maybe you should kill yourself.
Back in the officecloset, Whitney is trying to come up with a way to tell Lauren that she’s going to Paris for the Creole Ball, and that perhaps she ought to know that Lisa hates her. She considers going with the “chosen one” explanation, but isn’t sure she should reveal that just yet. Instead, when Lauren arrives, she just tells her very plainly about the trip. Lauren is shocked by the news, and she asks jealously, “AGAIN?” Whitney feels bad, especially when Lauren asks if anyone else will be going. “I don’t think so,” says Whitney. “It’s going to be boring anyway, just a bunch of authentic aristocrats and children. Plus, accordions are stupid.”
Lauren says she’s not upset, but mentions she shouldn’t have passed up the opportunity last summer. Plus, she’s been working really hard. When she whispers “Stupid Jason, ” and presses her forehead, trying not to cry, we get the feeling she’s lying about not caring. She also thinks she’ll never have an opportunity to go again. That’s probably true. I heard that Teen Vogue bought all the planes that fly to Paris, so unless they invite you, c’est la vie.
Close your mouth.
Speaking of not caring, there’s the Monchichi brooding at a sidewalk table at Who’s on Third. She-Pratt strolls up and they high-five about their USWeekly spread pimping her sobriety. Then he tells her he walked out on Heidi again after a fight. She-Pratt smiles with fakey incredulousness, and asks where he went. “Home,” he says, referring to his parents’ house. I guess home is not where the Heidi is. His parents told him he was an idiot, but he still hasn’t gotten in touch with Heidi. She-Pratt suggests he send her an email.
To: ‘Heidi Montag’
Dude! So is the wedding thing happening or what? Lemme know so if it’s a no go, I can sell the arcade on Craig’s. Don’t worry about me I can always marry my sister like the lady at the stationary store thought.
She-Pratt advises that he say “Adios” to the relationship if he doesn’t try. Maybe he can take her to Don Antonio’s to say “Adios,” as a special touch.
Sad Lauren mopes on the couch at home, cutting things out of a magazine. She’s making a collage for herself with pictures of her dreams, and a word that describes her for every letter of her name.
No Paris Wahler ruined my fucking life
Deadrina comes home and Lauren tells her the disappointing news that she’s not going to Paris, but Whitney is. Deadrina thinks Lisa should have invited Lauren this year. LC’s not so sure, because she did say no last time. They both agree it sucks.
Kind of like this boring finale. Are you noticing how long the intro shots are tonight? At the commercial break, MTV cuts to Area nightclub, the scene of the finale party. The Hills aftershow hosts, Jessi and Dan, always seemed way to old to be commenting on this show. Place them against a backdrop of screaming 13-year-olds wearing shiny dresses from Forever 21, they seem like fossils.
Tell that old couple to get out of the guppy pond before they drown.
After 6, count ‘em, 6 minutes of commercials, we’re back in Hillsland. The Monchichi decides to visit Heidi at work. The receptionist at Rezhouse buzzes Heidi, and seconds later, New Kimberly comes out to the lobby to tell the Monchichi that Heidi has left. She touches her hair, a liar’s tell. Since it takes one to know one, the Monchichi suspects deceit, and asks how long she’ll be gone. NK says she doesn’t know, but perhaps he should call her. He shuffles out, and we cut to a shot of Heidi sitting at he desk frowning, head in her hand.
Lauren seems to have bucked up a little bit, since she’s in the office closet actually doing some work. She’s taking Polaroids of inventory, and shaking the photos. Fun fact: shaking Polaroids can actually upset the ink, ruining the picture. She gives Whitney advice on what to pack for Paris since it’s freezing there. She’ll need coats, gloves, hats, and earmuffs. Whit asks if she’s ever been there this time of year before, and Lauren says with the faintest hint of accusation that she’s never been AT ALL. “Oh!” exclaims an embarrassed Whit, but she covers it up by saying brightly , “Coats, gloves, and earmuffs!”
Lauren recommends bringing a few dresses since there will be events to go to and don’t forget to call Brody and tell him you love him if he loves you first and find a way to casually let Heidi know I’ve got an exciting trip planned in a foreign country so she can kiss my ass. Apparently, Lauren spent last night awake in bed, planning everything she would have done to prepare if she’d gotten to go herself. Whit dials Brody for the awkward talk.
Do you love me or not, Brody? I’m sick of waiting!
Whitney takes it in stride, saying she needs to practice her French. LC responds that she loves guys with French accents because it sounds like they’re singing everything. Um, yeah. French guys have French accents. Lisa calls on the phone and wants to see Lauren. She throws out her gum and heads nervously down the hall.
Lisa is speaking French into the phone, as Lauren perches at her doorway. Lisa, who may or may not be a guy, does sound like she’s singing. I bet oddly condescending statements sound almost witty in French. She waves Lauren in and tells her that it turns out Kimball will need some extra help for the ball, so Lauren is going to Paris as well! WHAT A TWIST! WHAT A FINALE!
Translation: Fwah sha fa ha ha lala za pa tata.
Lauren grins from ear to ear, while Lisa makes some shitty comment about making sure LC goes with Whitney to the airport so she can guarantee she’ll get on the plane. God forbid you could let the girl feel happy for one second. I’m hoping she refers to Lauren as the second coming and offers her a choice between two different colored pills. But no, just the same as it always is. Then she says Paris is her favorite city, so much so that she ran away from home when she was fifteen to move to there. It was a life changing experience. You don’t say.
I picture Lisa as a young girl, wandering the streets, begging for a baguette and a little piece of cheese, perhaps dancing burlesque to make a few rubles and learning how to cook from Ratatouille. She describes it as an incredible sophistication that Lauren has never seen before. Oh, Parisians don’t wear scarves on their heads or refer to places as “romantical” or plant false rumors in gossip rags? Maybe this WILL change her life. Whitney is super excited when she hears the news, because now Lauren can stop pretending to helpful and plan her own fucking wardrobe.
Superbrody and Lauren go out for dinner at The Foundry. Not this fucking scene again. Let me guess, they’re going to make oblique references to dating, and nothing is going to happen. Superbrody makes a similar comment about pulling out her chair like the one he made on last week’s episode, and it really makes me think he’s a player. My theory is players tend to say the same things all the time, a) because the lines work, and b) because women are basically interchangeable to them so they don’t bother to individualize the conversation.
WTF? Yes I come here often and you already know my sign.
Lauren shares her good news about Paris, and Brody says he’s happy for her. He’s glad to hear she won’t miss him, he says, which is an odd comment since she never said anything like that. Here we go. Lauren refers to herself s his “single friend” and says a lot of people in LA are single. Brody banters back that there’s a lot of single people in Paris, too. Then he says everyone in Paris stinks and has hairy armpits. Lauren says that’s just the girls. Then they order some Freedom vanilla ice cream for dessert. Like Burns and Allen, these too.
Suddenly Brody blurts, “So you really want to find a boyfriend, is that what it is?” Lauren is offended enough she actually “tsks.” She asks him to clarify, and he says he hasn’t had any successful relationships in the past. Hmm, what are you trying to get at? Just fucking talk about it already. But no, Lauren says no one has successful relationships (how positive) and that he should pick someone he’d be proud to have as his girlfriend. Then they stare at each other for a while. I really hate the both of them right now. They’ve bored me death all season, and it isn’t even real.
Looks like I’m not the only one.
Back at the screening party at Area, the two old farts asks the kids today if they think Super Brody and Lauren make a good couple. “WOOOOOOH!” the kids scream.
After another 6 minutes of commercials (I timed them), we see Heidi packing a suitcase at Chez Janky. She’s in the living room, which is where I always pack for a trip. Why be near the dresser or the closet? The Monchichi finally decides to return at that very moment, and greets her with “Hello, Stranger.” He asks her where she’s going and Heidi says home to Colorado. Guess home isn’t where the Monchichi is. Here’s a tip: when neither one of you refer to your own apartment as “home,” you still consider yourself a child. Perhaps you are not ready to get married.
They trade a couple of passive aggressive barbs about giving each other space, until Heidi confesses she doesn’t know what else to do besides go home. The Monchichi asks her if he can correctly assume the wedding is not happening, and Heidi responds vaguely. I would feel so bad for Heidi if we didn’t already know the outcome.
You can do it. Squirt a couple out. Think of that video Spencer took of you rolling around on the beach looking like a ghetto ass moron. There ya go!
Lauren is shoving her last items into suitcases before she heads to the airport. Deadrina asks her if she knows her French. Obviously, says LC. “Bon jour!” she exclaims. “Bon…..soir,” she strains to remember. “Oui?” says Deadrina, helpfully. Lauren doesn’t really care, she’ll be fine. She has Google on her Blackberry. Deadrina reminds LC not to forget her passport, thereby completing her walk-on role in the finale. No SAussie? Boooo!
Superbrody stops by to see our girl off. They have more excruciating noncommittal chatter, then an unexciting kiss goodbye. The music swells, underscoring four minutes of Whitney and Lauren in the backseat of the car to the airport (then walking to the gate at LAX), Heidi driving, The Monchichi sitting in a chair at Chez Janky, and Deadrina at her apartment.
The End. 18 minute finale. That’s it? I’m sure you’re gonna tell me that that’s never happened to you before and you’re just nervous. I don’t know what to say about this. I was really hoping for some cliff hangers or surprises, but not a lot happened. C”est la vie, other fish in the seas. I’m watching the aftershow trying to find one nugget of satisfaction in this terrible, underwhelming finale, and there it is. Lauren’s big announcement. THE HILLS IS NOT OVER! We are the lucky chosen ones, after all.
Where’s Sweeney Todd when you need him?