Project Runway sold out last night, but in a fun way: They tailored the challenge specifically toward me and my harem at Movieline. I was surprised, too! Until I realized it was the right f*cking thing to do, obviously, because I deserve it. Last night's challenge required the Seamster union to design in the style of famous film genres, which yielded no results from the two most prominent genres of the last decade, "American Pie sequels featuring a visibly embarrassed Eugene Levy" and "Amateur Xtube Solo Effort." The latter snub wouldn't have happened on Bravo, guys.
The episode begins with much bitching, taunting and mugging from the remaining 11 designers, particularly from our good friend Mr. Sarah Vowell, who will just spellbind us this evening with clichés. "I didn't come here to make friends!" he notes, like the dim girl at recess. Right, Nicolas. Did you come here to say stupid things like that? I don't know which is worse.
Irina chimes in with extended bitching about how "the next few challenges are going to get tough" and how on the last challenge she reminded herself "that I could do 'wow' pieces." She poises her lips and neck in such way that suggests she thinks she's the cutest one here. Oh, hell no. Look, not-that-cute Anna Karenina, I'd throw you under the train myself if I could. You're out of line. Have you even met Gordana? She is personified cuteness. Let us make a cuteness analogy, in fact. Gordana: Cockapoos in Sundresses Somersaulting on Clouds:: Irina: The Cold War. Sorry, Irina, De-Stalinization is rarely adorable. (This analogy was taken straight from the SAT, by the way, so no dissent is necessary.)
Also, Gordana notes: "I WAS REALLY SURPRISED TO BE IN THE BOTTOM THREE, TO TELL YOU DA TROOT. I HAVE BEEN TOLD ZAGREB AND MONTENEGRO ARE UPSET, BUT HONESTLY, IT DOES NOT TAKE MUCH. THEY WILL GO BACK TO SAFE SNARLING SOON. I JUST HOPE BOTH SIDES CAN TAKE THEIR AGGRESSIONS OUT AT HORRIFYING SOCCER GAMES WHERE CROWDS THROW CHILDREN AT WOLVES AFTER POOR CORNER KICKS. OTHERWISE I AM DOING FINE, THANK YOU."
Anyway. Heidi approaches the runway and announces that the challenge will concern what "[Los Angeles] is all about!" I will tell you right now the challenge is not about murders. Nope, as Tim Gunn will come to explain, the designers must choose a famous film genre, create a character that fits in that genre, and dress her. After an all-too-riveting selection process, including class-A groaning from Epperson, who ends up choosing the "Western" genre because it was the only one left in Tim's glitter sack, the designers get right to work mangling your memories of Film Noir, Action/Adventure, Science Fiction, Western, and Period Pieces. In better news, they beat the Wayans brothers to many of these.
Tim also notes that makeup will be a large part of the challenge, so he introduces the most boring makeup artist of the present eon, Collier Strong. "Collier is my partner...!" Tim says. Silence. I start thinking of easy ways to run into traffic and end myself. How did Collier win Tim over me? I have my youth and the blue eyes of a frightening Matryoshka doll. The injustice! I could be thinner, Tim! Then Tim concludes his sentence: "...For this challenge!" Phew. I stop purging. Well, at a speedy rate, anyway.
As the challenge progresses and the designers attempt to make un-costumey costumes, it becomes apparent that these people have never seen a movie before. Christopher and Carol-Hannah make a joke about someone having stolen Louise's bobbin, and they emulate what I suspect was meant to be detective film music. Close, guys! That was actually the theme to Bowser's castle. Well done. Thanks for everything. You guys were born in 1997.
Ra'mon starts dyeing his "science fiction" garment the same mutated-foliage green that the judges really loved a few episodes back. He declares it "fabulous" as he pulls the infected moss out of the basin, and to my eyes it looks like aged Ecto Cooler. We love the movies too, Ra'mon! Epperson, meanwhile, has figured out a way to make a "Western" dress look contemporary, and thank God, because dreadlocks in mid-tantrum are rarely pretty. (An embarrassing white TA from my college Musicology class once exhibited this best.) Gordana expresses delight that for her "period piece" look, she can choose any period she wants. I suggest the kind of period that has guns and will fire at Irina, who now says to the camera that Gordana doesn't belong in the competition. Irina, I have almost exhausted every possible permutation of Chekhov joke with you, and I will start moving into "scalding borscht on your smart little face" territory next.
Tim's tour around the room produces a few prized Smokin' Gunn reactions: "No, Christopher, bared arms are not Victorian or 1800s. Jackass,"; "Epperson, these frills really seduce me. I almost want to call them 'Collier Strong in a teddy.' Just kidding. [Winks at camera.] Hey, babygirl Louis!" and "Now, Louise, I want you to take your DNA as a designer and really push it. OK? Push it out a window. Into a fire. Michael Kors has been standing outside smoking for four weeks, and the flames will really wake his umber ass up." Tim also commends Nicolas on his white "ice queen" science-fiction dress that, to me, looks like the ghetto, community opera version of Candyland's Queen Frostine. I have likely made that simile here before. In the last hour, Ra'mon also makes an entirely new dress because his original was "Kermit the Frog gone wrong." The world concurs.
Onto the runway! Michael Kors and Nina Garcia are busy tossing waterballoons at Harvey Weinstein's children, so this week their replacements are designer Jon Varvatos (I can deal with that), Zoe Glassner (I have knives for feelings), and Academy Award-nominated costumer designer Arianne Phillips. Let's sort through the memorable parts of allegedly cinematic show.
· Louise's prompt is "Film Noir," and she sends down a black, vaguely striped, short dress that is basic and not at all Barbara Stanwyck. Ouch, she's a "vintage" designer. This should've been right up her Kenley Collins-anointed alley. Don't worry, Zoe Glassner, the Dorothy Parker of our time, steps in and says (while laughing at her "joke"), "I'd hate to say it! It looks like...a snoozefest!" That is remarkable. Because I cannot tell you what a snoozefest looks like, Zoe. Goddamn the essay-writing contest that won you a spot on the judges' panel.
· Ra'mon unleashes his last-minute Plan B: a scaly, lime tower of fabric that Heidi declares "a hot green mess." To be fair, it does look "sci-fi." It's the kind of drag queen who rises from the ocean and attacks a fleet of teenagers playing beach blanket bingo. I guess that's not really attractive, though, in this cruel existence. Zoe Glassner also says it looks like "Swamp Thing! Ha ha ha!" because she is a registered wit sorcerer.
· Gordana has created a sparkly tan flapper number for her "period piece." It's not exactly innovative, but it fits well and the styling and makeup are excellent! And that's what counts. Right, Tim? Is that what you told Collier in the heat of the moment? You. Pinstriped. Dog.
· Epperson's "Western" idea has evolved into a wonderful, denim-decked, leather-waisted damsel dress. It's costume, but beautifully rendered, pristinely finished costume. I will call it Phat Ballou.
· Christopher's "period piece" number comprises several fabrics to form a bubbly layered dress and a darling little bust. Looks pretty expensive too, as Heidi notes.
· Nicolas's operatic Candyland frozen-poultry thing is LAUDED by the judges, who say it's just what the challenge calls for. Weren't they supposed to make movie-inspired couture? This is just a feathered costume, and maybe one you'd be buried in. I'll give you one guess as to where this is going.
Nicolas wins the challenge! The bottom two are Ra'mon and Louise, and after a painful deliberation regarding the merits of Mothra, Ra'mon is booted. Honestly, I couldn't see it going any other way. Stay tuned next week for more inevitable Gordana backlash and Irina's poised, Baryshnikov-like descent into the bowels of my contempt.