Watching The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City is a religious experience. It’s the immaculate conception of the Housewives franchise, a show that only grows more powerful with each passing moment. It’s a show where even the most eclectic of side characters can rise to the top of the stratosphere.
The Salt Lake City Housewives simply light up any room with their effervescence. From the very first episode—where Jen Shah hosted a Tongan party in honor of Meredith’s birthday, on Lisa’s actual birthday—these ladies have proven themselves as masters of the craft.
Each Wednesday, we’re given the solemn opportunity to worship at the altar of Bravo’s elite cast, the second coming of the original Real Housewives of New York City. It would be a perfect show if Bravo actually aired the taglines for once. We’ve gotten them in one out of 12 episodes, a drought so sickening only God can fix it. Please, Mary, do something.
It’s time to celebrate Meredith’s bat mitzvah, a ceremony for the most magically monotonous woman to ever grace our TV’s. Mother Marks has finally cemented herself as an icon of the craft, committing to a solo storyline so artistically egregious that it’s somehow emotional, hilarious, and fantastical all at once. Really, that’s just the Meredith Marks experience.
The episode structures itself similarly to the premiere, which took place fully at Lisa’s Besos party. The ladies have put on their Sunday best to celebrate Meredith’s ascension to motherhood as a Russian roulette of fights breaks out in the sacred temple halls, proving this season won’t slow down for anything.
Whereas The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills has a one fight per capita restriction and RHONY has entirely forgotten what drama is, Salt Lake City’s mountainous altitude brings about an atmospheric shift into insanity, as all forms of civility fall by the wayside.
That’s how we end up in Super Smash Bros: Melee, as Angie K. fights off a horde of opponents while Bronwyn works to prove herself as a true strategist. Bronwyn should know better than to upset the tortoise, given we saw what happened to the last hare (Monica), and yet, setting fires at every turn is the most exciting Bronwyn’s ever been on screen. It turns out she has some spontaneity hidden beneath her AAVE and “Brat summer” confessionals, after all.
The entire episode relishes in these shifting dynamics, paced phenomenally to focus both on the serious, sentimental ceremony and the utmost absurdity all around it—and even within it. Meeting Meredith’s mother would have made this a standout episode all on its own, if simply for giving us dialect obsessives a chance to examine our Transatlantic goddess. We’re so blessed to get all that and more.
Even the little moments between scenes have so many fun nuggets. Mary tells Heather she’s looking smaller and she wants to fatten her up. Angie tells Lisa her hair looks good, a hairstylist’s most sacred olive branch. And Mary thirsts after Meredith’s son Reid, the people’s prince.
Next, Mary and Meredith share a true heart-to-heart, one that truly strengthen’s the show. RHOSLC is special because the constant barrage of fights are still grounded by true stakes and friendship, whether it’s these two or Angie and Lisa. It’s somewhat surreal to see Mary in this position given she’s been a comic relief or absurdist villain in the past, but it’s so welcome.
Although Angie and Bronwyn carry the drama, the continued undercurrent of Mary vs. Meredith plays nicely as the episode’s C-plot. Mary arriving late to the ceremony and peeking through at least six windows in an effort to find the door is surely a metaphor for the separation pulling these two former friends apart, even as they desperately want to let each other in. Or, it’s just a really funny moment. I think what’s cool about RHOSLC is that it’s probably a bit of both.
And just as we get wrapped in the warmth of this temporary reconciliation, Angie and Bronwyn roll up to cause utter chaos. The final third of the episode is entirely inundated in a dramatic crescendo, as one fight spirals into another in such effortless fashion that, by the end, it’s hard to believe there was ever a sense of calm.
Still pissed at Angie over camp day, Bronwyn demands an apology—a rookie mistake. Yes, Angie told you to “shut the f--- up” somewhere between two to 82 times, but Bronwyn, if you’re going to declare yourself an accountability coach, you have to accept the fact no one will ever like you again. Sometimes, people will tell you to shut the f--- up. And they’ll often be justified.
When Angie made an ableist comment about Meredith’s hearing aids, she had to be coerced into apologizing by Mary Cosby of all people, and even then… it wasn’t much. She’s hardly going to apologize with sincerity here.
But as Angie doubles down, so does Bronwyn. The two are quickly becoming great adversaries, so stubbornly unrepentant that it’s amazing. Rather than groveling in need of an ally, Bronwyn is excited by the prospect of her free agent status, reveling in the fact each lady has gossiped to her about the others. Bronwyn’s still just a fan at heart.
Every dig these two give each other gives me more joy. Angie calling Todd Bronwyn’s “much better half” to his face is so “Carole Radziwill telling Harry Dubin she completely understands the divorce” coded. This sentence is so “I’ve watched 100 seasons of Housewives and can only speak in in-references” coded. Yay.
Angie sends Bronwyn into a real spiral, causing her to lash out at Todd. Heather spots their spat out of the corner of her eye, positively elated by this development. She speaks no evil, but Heather sees and hears everything. And sometimes she speaks some evil. She’ll always be a good time girl.
What I truly love about that moment is that it’s subtle. Heather doesn’t get a confessional to drive her feelings home, nor does Bronwyn. The editors simply let the women’s facial expressions speak for themselves. It’s so refreshing in this modern ecosystem where slapstick edits spoon feed the audience.
On the other end of the room, Heather and Whitney agree to not let Bronwyn’s camp day confession come between them. Instead, Lisa physically shoves herself between Bad Weather to repeatedly smack Whitney with the fact she’s a liar. In fact, Lisa decides to get the liars together to nip this in the bud, bringing Whitney face-to-face with Bronwyn and Angie. That’s conflict resolution.
As Angie defends herself, Britani (Bronwyn’s best friend of three minutes) jumps in to defend her girl, slamming Mean-gie for her dramatics. Britani is so upset that Angie slut shamed her earlier and wants to stand up for Bronwyn and all the victims of her Greek wrath.
Bronwyn immediately dislodges herself from this blossoming friendship to dish to Angie that Britani actually called Angie a slut, too. Poor Britani. Her naivete is used against her each and every week. She’s simply soiled by her heart of gold and inability to see anything but the positive.
Bronwyn is so deliciously evil in ways that will horrify us for the next few years, lacking the ability to even understand what situational loyalty could buy her. She would excel as the killer in a whodunit. There’s something very Rebecca Gayheart in Urban Legend about her. There, that’s a non-Housewives reference.
This smoke bomb gives Bronwyn an easy escape, shifting the focus onto Britani vs. Angie as conflict consumes the group from all ends. Angie spouts some hair theory, accusing Britani of sluttiness for her bump-it look. What exactly is “high body count hair,” you may wonder? Surely, some red pill podcast has dished on that by now. What’s that Brianna Chickenfry girl talking about if not that?
The line of attack is so absurd that most would laugh it off, but Britani freaks out and runs off crying, forcing Meredith’s monotonous kids to console her. Angie’s disposition shift when she finds out Britani’s actually in tears is just hilarious. She’s never hit someone hard enough to make it hurt before. Angie almost can’t believe it.
“Don’t let her hurt your feelings. But you know what? You do need Kerastase Thermique,” Lisa tells Britani. I don’t know a kinder woman, nor a better saleswoman. That’s how you do in-universe advertisements.
Verklempt by this vile display, Meredith consoles poor Britani, before admonishing Angie. Immediately, she sheds her newly anointed spiritual veneer to adorn her monstrous exterior, demanding Angie to leave the party.
Security arrives to save the day, but classy queen Angie escorts herself out of the party while throwing Britani’s coat on the floor and calling Meredith a “classless b---hes .” What a star-making turn. Imagine telling a Season 3 viewer that Angie would not only get center snowflake two years later, but earn it through a series of fights that she somehow comes out on top of? You know what, they should believe it, given she’s been a diva since day one. Stangies never stop winning.
Next week, the stakes rise once again, as the cast trip to Puerto Vallarta commences with a fatal fallout between Bronwyn and Lisa over rooming assignments, while Lisa vs. Angie resumes after a two-week detente. These women simply live to serve.
