Tyson tells his modelettes he’s off to London for a job. In his place, he offers them supermodel Michael Bergen, a ripped, younger imago of Andy Garcia.
In a studio somewhere in Manhattan, a large mirror is rolled out. The kids gaze lovingly at their own reflections while they’re given the assignment of the week: Pose with themselves. Just as they sigh with relief – looking in the mirror? All day! — they find out there’s a catch. Supermodel and guest judge, Maggie Rizer, warns them: “Don’t give me pretty. That’s not what I want. I want memorable, confrontational and raw,” as she squints her eyes and pouts her glossy lips by way of an example.
The wannabes soon realize the difference between reflection and self-reflection. Salome may love the color of her own eyes, but they’re not any kind of window to her Mennonite soul. Perpetually shiny mouth-breather, Gabriel, looks in the mirror and sees a Rebel without a Clue. Sandhurst used to have, gasp, acne, and the utter horror of those years have scarred him on the inside. Jonathan seems normal and congratulates himself by giving his reflection a fist bump.
The prize for the contest is not a personal epiphany. If only. Two lucky winners will get to do a real runway show at Fashion Week in Montreal. Self-proclaimed ladies’ man and mama’s boy, Branden, asks, “Where’s Montreal?” No pushing, straight girls!
Colin, the awkward virgin nerd, swears he doesn’t spend a lot of time looking in the mirror. M’kay. He thought this show was called Make Me a Superscientist and would involve mathletics. Housemate Kerryn thinks he’s adorkable and tells him so by putting her hand on Clark Kent’s junk in full view of the others.
The sole gay contestant, Shawn, tries to pose using the raw emotion that comes with the territory — being denied the right to marry, facing discrimination, being a slave to seasonal fashion — but he ends up looking like he’s either the world’s biggest narcissist, or very, very constipated.
Meanwhile, with the look of a Slovakian stripper, Mountaha’s best hope is to become Miss February in a Russian auto parts calendar. Amanda has a young son, whom she misses dearly. Being apart from him to be on a TV show must be hard. She’s all set to bring forth those feelings for the camera when she’s told they want her to dance. Guilty feet have got no rhythm.
Actually, Amanda finds just the right balance between absent mom and dance fever, and wins for the second week in a row. She chooses Miss February to be her traveling companion. The male winner is geography-challenged Branden, who won’t be able to find Montreal with two hands and a map, so he takes smarty pants Colin.
All-American Amanda’s never been to Canada, where she thinks it’s “just like the same people as us, except that they say ‘eh’ a lot.” Américain, rentrer chez soi.
Amanda and Branden: The Brain Trust Tour of ’09.
The fab four needlessly audition for the Montreal show. Colin finds it super easy to talk to Canadian girls, even after he discovers the chick he’s been hitting on is only 16. Maybe Colin’s problem isn’t the opposite sex; it’s Americans his own age.
After the kids return to the States, they’re thrown right into the next assignment. They’re going to be made up as my favorite thing of all time: Freaks. Sadly, on this show, being a freak means getting bedazzled.
I’m bored. CJ is supposed to be bisexual but all she does is complain and act sullen. When is she going to do something bi-licious and get her freak on? Damn girl, we’re waiting.
The runway is a funway. Everyone takes their turn and shows the panel their interpretation of freakdom. There are tongues wagging. Some eyes are bulging. Shawn does very dramatic movements with his arms that are hard to describe. Panel judge Jenny Shimizu summarizes it best when she tells him, “At one point, it looked like you were trying to open a jar.”
Jenny was in rare form this week. Some gems: “I wasn’t sure about the ‘I’m a magician!’ thing.” “It was kinda like a porno movie.” “Even alone in your own house, I don’t think I would have done what he did, in a fantasy.”
Amanda’s emotions bubble to the surface when they criticize her Dancing with Mys-elf, Oh oh, oh-oh photo. She didn’t want to dance in the first place, and now they blame her. Adding insult to injury, Perou and Maggie tell her coldly to stop sniveling. “There’s no crying in modeling,” Maggie says, with a totally straight face.
I’m calling a moratorium. Unless we’re quoting A League of Their Own, no one is allowed to use that phrase ever again.
Everyone is released from hell except Shawn and Colin. Shawn is criticized for being “way over the top.” A gay man going over the top? Impossible.
Colin is warned to go model or go home. But he’s spared. Shawn is out. Good-bye Will Truman.
Next week: Ménage à trois, brought to you by Bravo.