''Chaotic'': Britney pops the question
”Chaotic”: Britney pops the question
Okay, so I went in to this week’s episode of Britney and Kevin: Chaotic determined to look for something — anything — positive to say about the show’s titular stars. After all, it’s easy to sit on your couch and watch the home videos of a wealthy pop star and her man mate, then channel a week’s worth of tension and job-related stress into a bile-soaked screed. Why not challenge myself instead, right?
Of course, after actually subjecting myself to a mind-numbing new low in Chaotic‘s brief history — 22 hellacious minutes of soft-core foreplay, atrocious singing, some nonsense with a border-patrol canine, and a discussion of the least romantic marriage proposal in history — I’m seriously at a loss. I’d watch a Bad Girl’s Guide marathon to get out of Chaotic duty — and considering that tonight’s edition of Jenny McCarthy’s charming sitcom vehicle featured multiple punch lines at the expense of a character with genital herpes (I kid you not), you know I’m a desperate man.
But enough kvetching. Yes, I’ve been permanently scarred by the sight of a videocam-wielding K-Fed facing a mirror, thrusting his pelvis in Britney’s general direction, and grunting sexually, but I remain undeterred. Herein, folks, is a brief list of Things I Like About Britney.
She might actually be good for young girls’ body image Mind you, I wouldn’t want my teenage nieces to follow Britney’s example of chain-smoking her way across Europe and sharing a bed with a virtual stranger who has a pregnant girlfriend and a daughter back home, but at least Britney isn’t wasting away to Skeletor-esque dimensions like, say, Lindsay Lohan or Nicole Richie. Nope, Chaotic‘s leading lady stuffs her face with chips and wine without the slightest hint of self-consciousness — that’s gotta count for something.
She’s not afraid to show her flaws I’m not exactly proud to admit this, but a little more than a week ago, I changed my hairstyle to hide a fantastically massive zit that had staked its claim smack in the middle of my forehead. On Chaotic, meanwhile, millions of fans and detractors get to see Britney’s every flaw, filmed in lighting so unflattering it would send Barbara Walters into a seizure. Either Britney is blissfully unaware of her occasional breakouts, or she simply doesn’t give a hoot about exposing ’em.
She’s got pretty good taste in music Millions of Americans seem to think Paula Abdul is, at best, a guilty pleasure. But let the truth be told: Britney and I know that ”Straight Up” is a genius slice of bubblegum, and we’re not afraid to sing it (badly) for the whole world — or in my case, the nearest karaoke bar.
Despite my newfound ability to see Britney’s silver lining, however, there’s no forgiving her (or UPN) for failing to slap a warning label at the beginning of tonight’s episode, maybe something like ”This program contains footage not suitable for viewers who are in the middle of eating dinner.” I know that lots of critics fancy phrases like ”stomach turning” or ”lost my appetite” or ”I threw up a little in my mouth” when they’re reviewing something truly heinous, but none of those quite capture what happened as I simultaneously took a bite of my chicken-salad sandwich and witnessed the following exchange:
Britney (pouring a beverage): ”Want some?”
Britney (approaching the camera and trying to look all sexy): ”Yeah, you do. You want some — of this.”
Britney then yanks down her tank top and thrusts her cleavage into the camera. The couple begins Frenching up a storm, as Kevin keeps the camera inches away from their lips, each hair of his Feder-stache seen in hideous detail.
But wait, there’s more! Cut to Kevin, lounging lasciviously on the tour bus. Britney is using her night-vision video to film her mealy-mouthed himbo. And apparently. She’s not. Wearing. Any. Clothing.
Kevin: ”If I had the camera in my hands, I’d have some serious footage in my hands right now. See you layin’ there like ass-naked behind the lens, it’s kinda hot. It’s kinda sexy. We’ve got the boys on our bus and she is sitting up in the front — ass-naked. And they’re right there [pointing a few feet away] in the bunks.”
All I can say is, I’m glad that by that point I’d pushed my dinner plate to the side and started chugging the Shiraz, although there’s really no amount of alcohol a person can consume during a half hour to sufficiently numb the synapses for that level of skankdom.
Given all the sexual innuendo that preceded it, I found it more than a little jarring that the episode ended with Britney and Kevin recounting how they got engaged on a transatlantic flight from Paris to New York. Interestingly, though, K-Fed and Brit’s light-on-the-details account underscored the inherent weakness of this series: If the couple had hired a documentarian to follow their brief yet supposedly intense courtship instead of shooting everything themselves, surely we’d have all been treated to the juicy details that Chaotic sadly lacks: Where’s the footage of the actual proposal? Of the couple’s first kiss? Of the moment Kevin informed Britney that a woman named Shar Jackson was several months pregnant with his child? Of the adorable couple deciding that it’d be a swell idea to sell their cherished memories to UPN?
With so little meat on its bones, is it any wonder Chaotic always leaves me feeling as if I had just scarfed down a big bag of Cheetos for lunch: suffering from an upset stomach, vaguely ashamed, and desperate for any kind of nourishment?
How does Chaotic make you feel? Do you see Britney as an irritating narcissist, a sad kid on a downward spiral, or something entirely different? And should this show come with a ”don’t eat and watch” warning label?