Physics tells us that drama can be neither created nor destroyed. (At least, that was my personal takeaway.) Now that Cat’s gone, it’s like the tension she had with the rest of the interior re-homed itself between Xandi, who has worked almost unceasingly all day, and Barbie, who just needs a sec to lie down and puff on her vape, all right?
Don’t get me wrong: Carriacou looks very nice, but the way the captain has talked about the island for the last episode and a half now had me expecting to take one look at the place, sell all my earthly possessions, buy a one-way plane ticket, and throw myself into my new life as soon as possible. As it is — I think I’m good, thank you. The beach is hard to access, with a strong current in the shallows. While the guests are happily snorkeling and drinking, Kerry and Ben are having a capital-B Bad time. The boat is making an upsettingly crunchy grinding noise thanks to sand getting into the impeller. Fraser, wisely, just keeps on refilling everyone’s Champagne glasses.
Sunset is turning to dark and a storm is blowing in. Captain Kerry makes the call: They need to go back, now. If the boat gets beached, they’ll be stranded overnight. Pretty sure I already saw that episode when it was theatrically released under the title Triangle of Sadness. But getting everyone aboard is not trivial — they have to time it right with the increasingly serious waves rolling in. Lesley, the primary, sort of just launches herself at the stern, prompting Kerry to yell, “No one moves toward the boat till I say so!” That’s the harshest I’ve ever heard him speak to a guest, though it certainly feels justified. Can you do everybody a favor and stay alive, please, at least through the length of the charter?
They make it back to the St. David without any casualties. But there will be a death on the yacht tonight. A murder, in fact. While the guests eat dinner and practice the vaguely British accents that for some reason always feel appropriate for an ambiguously period-y murder mystery (more accurately, they sound like sixth-graders cast as grown-ups in a school play, just sort of speaking more loudly and slowly than usual), the already-understaffed exterior scrambles to ad lib a series of staged clues, with the help of a bunch of random props that Fraser has ordered. The job description for deckhands has expanded considerably.
That’s not to say the interior isn’t doing their part, too. The game begins when Barbie runs into the dining room in a frenzy, screaming, “There’s been a murder!” She is so committed to the bit that she immediately falls over and exposes her whole butt. It is a very auspicious start to the festivities. Fraser is the evening’s Mr. Boddy, our designated corpse. “It’s Fletcher!” someone screams when they come upon him in the stateroom, not far from the murder weapon (a pizza roller).
The clues, (semi-)rhyming couplets, send the guests running all over the boat and they absolutely love it. The crew crushed this — as Ben points out, it’s also helpful that these people are pretty drunk.
What Anthony has in charm he lacks in organizational skills. The galley is even more of a war zone than usual, scattered with eggs (as always, so many eggs; beginning to believe that the yacht’s engine runs on crushed shells), various sauces and condiments (including at least two separate bottles of ketchup), a dirty blender, and more pots and pans than I would have thought were on the boat in total. It takes him until after 3 a.m. to finish cleaning up. Predictably, the next morning, he is totally exhausted. Fraser has to rise to the occasion and actually come up with a breakfast menu, a new responsibility he isn’t thrilled to take on. (Also, I feel like I never comment on the tablescapes except to rag on them, but I actually really like the bright-orange-rimmed plates combined with those swirly green vertical napkins. Go team!)
Our new deckhand finally arrives, birthed from the sea foam like Aphrodite. Dylan, a 23-year-old from Cape Town, has one of the widest smiles possible amid the constraints of human biology and is so hot that he immediately threatens to disrupt the established sexual ecosystem of the boat. He is also, I say this with affection, a complete weirdo. A formerly overweight kid who became extremely fit out of spite, he can now individually pop his pecs, which are named James and Barry. (Why? I assume we will never know.) He also speaks of his fondness for high-fiving strangers while out running. “They won’t understand any of it,” he says. “But they will remember you.” This is precisely how I already feel about Dylan.
Ben’s first docking as bosun goes off beautifully, even in the unwelcome presence of a big-ass cargo ship; I cannot parallel park under the best of terrestrial circumstances, so these people never fail to amaze me. Lesley says a very emotional and grateful good-bye and hands over what looks like a commensurately thick envelope. She tipped $30,000, which works out to a very healthy $2,725 per person (and a prorated $550 for Dylan). Captain Kerry is pleased with their work — A+ charter all around.
Dylan continues to distinguish himself on his first night out with his new co-workers. He tries to convince Kyle to take a shot via his nostril. He explains his theory that déjà vu is just, duh, memories we’ve lived on another of the many timelines we are currently experiencing. “It’s vibe time, baby!” he will later shout on the dance floor. “Vibe time is my time!” (In a confessional, Sunny and Barbie rate him a great potential one-night stand, as long as he doesn’t talk.)
While Kyle helpfully sucks a bug out of Fraser’s drink, and Dylan and Anthony stake their romantic claims on the replacement stew who has not even arrived yet, Ben spends time with Xandi. They’ve gotten a lot closer — she introduced him to her mom on FaceTime as her brother earlier that day. While they’re all out dancing, they hug and they whisper and Ben touches her waist. Sunny is deeply upset when she oversees these interactions, which, by the way, are scored hilariously to a club remix of the “Ride of the Valkyries.”
Was it sort of flirty, touchy-feely? Sure. This is Mr. “I’m Cheeky, I’m Aussie, It’s Charismatic” we’re dealing with, after all. But I believe Ben and especially Xandi when they say their relationship is platonic. Everyone knows what jealousy feels like, and it is a certified no-fun experience, so it’s not that I don’t feel for Sunny. But I will note that she recently shared in a confessional that the last time she was in love, she wasn’t actually in a relationship with the person — which, with admittedly zero additional context, does raise some question marks for me surrounding boundaries and expectations. She says Ben is “disrespecting what we have,” which raises the question: What do they have, exactly? Is he her boyfriend? Have they established if they’re dating exclusively? Do they have a clear understanding of what kinds of behaviors are and aren’t okay with the other person?
In happier news, Kyle and Fraser smooch on the van ride home.
Back on the boat, Barbie and Fraser slurringly try to smooth things over with all parties involved, to mixed success. I give Sunny credit for going to Ben directly to share her feelings. For her part, Xandi totally dismisses any possible romantic connection with Ben, because that would be “incestry [sic].” But she quickly gets pissed off at the thought that she’d be expected to change how she acts to protect someone else’s self-esteem. “Catch me outside,” she snaps, a phrase I do not believe I’ve heard a human being say aloud since at least 2018.
By Molly Fitzpatrick , 2024-03-26 03:00:22
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