TV ReviewsAll of our TV reviews in one convenient place.  

Reality TV is filled with hapless characters, none with less hap than Bret Michaels, lead singer of Poison, a solo artist, a playa by any definition, and an all-around rich, not-that-smart dude. The greatest question surrounding his reality show, Rock Of Love is this: Why? Why did you do it, Bret? You've gotta have enough money by now; we've been reminded throughout the season that your band sold 25 million records. There's no way you blew it ALL on bandanas! You could've gone through 20-25 bandanas a day and you'd still have enough cash lying around to sew together some cash-bandanas from.

Bret's answer, on last night's Rock Of Love reunion–and he was vociferously defended by never-quite-a-celeb host Riki Rachtman–was that he was truly looking for love. Right. Because the best place to find love if you're an egomaniacal (though clearly sweet) rock star is on TV, with a bunch of women stabbing each other in the back (and making out) to get your attention.

The whole season, the whole concept, the whole Goddamn everything about Rock was a ridiculous farce. An amazing, compelling, can't-stop-watching-it farce.

In case you missed it: 25 women live together, all vying to become Bret's "rock and roll girlfried." (This meant, implicitly at first and then later explicitly, that this girlfriend would allow him to fuck other women while on tour.) Most have no personalities. Some, including drunken Tiffany from Chicago, have too much. He whittled it down over the season, with most of the conflict coming via Lacey, a rich-girl rocker whose sole mission was to tattle on the other girls. (And apparently "blow Bret every night," according to main competition Heather.)

The show ended last week with Bret choosing (super spoiler, turn away) Chicago alt-rocker chick Jes, who claimed to be falling in love with him, but was clearly too smart for that. In doing so, he dissed Heather (one of several strippers), who actually got "Bret" tattooed on her neck during the show's run. (Yup, she did that.)

So anyway, the reunion: It was to be the first time Bret and Jes actually saw each other in six months, because producers didn't want the new "couple" seen together while the show was airing. Apparently, in that time, Jes decided she didn't actually like Bret after all, and on the show, she sorta turned him over to Heather (whose hair was miraculously unfeathered last night, it should be noted).

Except for some mild fighting between Lacey and the other girls–and a hilarious performance from Lacey's horrible pseudo-goth band–the reunion was pretty anti-climactic. That Jes and Bret wouldn't last was a foregone conclusion for anyone who'd watched the show. It just took Jes watching it to realize that Mrs. Bandana was not the title for her. Now Heather and Bret can ride off into the sunset (maybe), on the back of one of VH1's most popular shows ever. And deservedly so. Here's to dumb people acting dumb (but reasonably sweet) on TV in the future.

Grade: C+ for the reunion, A- for the rest of the season

Stray observations

— It wasn't on the reunion, but Michaels' appearance on Conan O'Brien a week or so ago, in which he blamed poor lighting for making him look silly (during a segment in which he tested each girl's phone-sex ability) offered amazing insight into his personality. Freud is freaking out right now.

— If Lacey is not an actual sociopath, she's an amazing actress.

— Tiffany was sitting there, producers! Why not get her drunk? Give that woman her own reality show. It could be called Tiffany Gets Drunk, Babbles, And Passes Out, and it's a surefire hit.

— Supposedly there's been a casting call for a second season of Rock, featuring a different rock star, this one a "Tommy Lee type." My guess is Dave Navarro, what's yours?

— Rodeo. Wow.