“That was… quite the tragedy.”
The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City has long been a melodrama of epic proportions. Each of its last three seasons have ended in a climactic implosion that asks: Can this group go on? Then a new season comes around, every September on the dot, things resetting to a comfortably calm status quo, before the drama re-ups in record time.
This time is different.
The sisters of Salt have finally flown too close to the sun, and everybody’s getting burnt. The question now isn’t can this group go on, but who will make the cut.
The episode starts in medias res, as snippets of the finale fight promise yet another ugly season’s end, before we jump back to the morning, where everything’s nice and normal. Somehow, even that’s an issue.
Having oscillated between zoned-out tears and head-shaking screams all season, Meredith has finally found her groove, whipping up some espressos and gabbing with the girls like nothing ever happened. To Whitney and Bronwyn, the only thing worse than disengaging is pretending everything’s hunky dory, evidently.
The duo of delusion—rarely aligned, but often crossing paths on their train ride to nowhere—have decided Meredith’s fake, phony, fraudulence needs to be taken down a notch, especially given the (alleged) conversation Bronwyn shared with Mer in the midnight hours.
Thus, the season’s final she said/she said ensues, Bronwyn claiming Meredith called her up to grill her about yesterday’s lunch, while Meredith denies anything of the sort. Security footage does back up that Bronwyn was running around the house at 2:30 am, though the actual conversation remains a mystery.
Of course, the lunch in question involved Mary, Bronwyn, and Whitney accusing Meredith of a drug addiction, while Bronwyn insinuated Meredith’s husband Seth was having an affair in New York. Naturally, Bronwyn has decided to jump ahead of that snaky behavior by flipping the script.
Sure, I can’t stop saying life-ruining things about Meredith, but she’s a shifty freak for expecting any semblance of loyalty! Doesn’t Meredith know, I, Bronwyn Newport, should be allowed to say one thing to people’s face and a much worse thing behind their backs? That’s my best Bronwyn impression. (Read it with several neck twists and head bobs, for accuracy. Add some poorly inserted internet slang for good measure.)
Meredith, for her part, denies ever asking Bronwyn about the lunch. If we’re being real, she almost certainly asked about it. But then Bronwyn would have to admit that she weaponizes her own disloyalty to justify relentless flip-flopping, and Meredith would have to acknowledge that she does her best work behind the scenes to hide her hand. So, the two dance around it, as the queens of semantics always do.
All the scene does is cement a vicious fallout between the two, Bronwyn warning “good luck with the one of the other b----es. They don’t have your f---ing back like I did, and I don’t either anymore.”
Thus, the stage is set for Santorini’s finest to perform a one-woman show with a dozen interpretative dancers, with the sole purpose of saying aggressively cutting things about each Housewife. It’s a little subtler than last year’s “random idea” to read the meanest text each lady’s written about another, and a lot more effective. Maybe that’s because we actually see some aftermath this time around.
There’s something so satisfying about the overly serious Greek accent spouting lines like “Heather, you’re a joke wrapped in mascara” while lobbing some vicious jabs:
“Bronwyn, you’re not two-faced. You’re no-faced. You want to be trusted, but you treat loyalty like a party favor: cheap and easy to toss. You collect secrets like trinkets, trading them between sisters under the guise of concern, but always leaving damage in her wake.”
Talk about a throat-slash. The other women catch some strays, no doubt, but that’s as brutal as it gets. What the scene truly drives home is, after two seasons of the Bronwyn experience, it’s become abundantly clear that the more she says, the less we know.
Even as the majority of the group set up a finale takedown for Meredith, the show itself seems to be planting seeds of a thorny nature that, once sprouted, will cut her at every corner. That’s a long-term narrative the show would immediately benefit from, giving a semi-aimless season some substance to grab onto.
For now, though, they’d prefer to scream into the void. That’s the Salt Lake City way.
“Maybe we should just give up the game, and be real with each other,” Heather offers, kicking off a group heart-to-heart. First, Bronwyn admits her loyalty issues come from her own expectation that no one will be loyal to her. Lisa piggybacks to fill her quota of genuineness for the season, admitting even she gets disappointed in herself despite the fact that she looks and seems perfect, leading to the first sign of hope for Angie and Lisa’s friendship in ages.
It’s all going so well until Meredith tries to open up about her own sensitivities, and Heather immediately shuts down the narrative. Thus, things fall apart just as they were coming together. Mary lobs the question: “Why are we here if we’re not friends!?” while everybody turns on each other, leading to a true Greek tragedy.
As a cold war looms between Bad Weather and Meredith, Mary cuts through the minutiae to tell Meredith, “We feel like you’re spiraling. We’re all worried and we’re all concerned. You want to know what we talked about at lunch? That’s what we talked about. They all think it, and I think it too.”
“I think I’m finished here,” Meredith offers in retort, dismissing Mary’s concerns and Whitney’s comparisons to her addict father, before Bronwyn decides “not to say” something’s wrong about her marriage by saying exactly that: “Todd and I were in New York, and I saw Seth.”
With that, Meredith exits the scene. She’s done with the conversation, she’s done with the women, and she just might be done with the show. It’s clear that this group that once were able to wash away last night’s fights with a snowy smile is no more. The drama has cut too deep, viscerally scarring everyone in the process.
As Meredith and Lisa commiserate, mere feet from the others, Heather yells, “you know what, just go? We can hear you! We’re toxic, we’re a---holes. If you think that, walk the f--- away.”
“You don’t get to dictate what everybody does like the judge and jury. You don’t. You don’t. You don’t,” Lisa shoots back, proving even the simmering tensions between the show’s two pillars have finally hit a boiling point. Feet from them, Mary consoles Bronwyn, assuring her that she is free to go after Meredith. In the aftermath of the explosion, there’s no remorse, only vindication.
Lines are firmly drawn in the Santorini sand, and it’s hard to imagine a peace treaty could solve anything. If the first era of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City ended with Jen Shah’s incarceration, this is the second run’s last breath. There’s simply no coming back from the nature of these pill-popping accusations, especially when Meredith spends her final confessional outright saying Whitney and Heather are the real pill-poppers.
Santorini is scorched, and Salt Lake City has frozen over. All that remains is a reunion so chaotic that even Andy Cohen walks off. Reminder: the New York Season 4 reunion was the first to cause an Andy meltdown, and led to Bravo’s first-ever cast shakeup. Just something to keep in mind.
