Death Wears A Sweater Set
Oh, here he is now. Ryan "Baaaaaaaaaah" Sutter sits in his own makeshift confessional space, reminding us immediately why the producers of The Bachelorette were able to pull his shorn wool over our eyes and actually surprise us with the big surprise ending of that captivating season: he just doesn't do it front of the camera. He comes off as stilted and uncomfortable and impatient and afraid, a simple country fireman given to rare piques of fancy in which "Shamu" is a viable rhyming couplet for anything. He sits alone, looking tired but somehow more attractive than he did when he was first being introduced to America. He tells us that his life has been "a crazy whirlwind" (an expression that no self-respecting fireman should ever be forced to say, but one which a similarly non-self-respecting poet could rhyme with "but I sure do love my girlfriend," should the situation call for a quick verse) since the end of the series, what with the balancing of "the fire job" with "everything that comes up in Los Angeles." As he says this, the screen splits itself into four boxes, each of Ryan in another of his life's capacities: one of the Vail firehouse, another of what looks like Trista at a photo shoot, a third of Trista and Ryan canoodling (that's a tabloid word I would never ordinarily use, but is this whole thing really any more than a tabloid?), and a fourth that looks like family and friends just chillin', all together in some whacked-out Brady Bunch Opening Credits Of The Damned sequence that would make me reference Time Code if I hadn't already done so in every recap I've ever written. So, again: Figgis? You're welcome.