Paradise Hotel, “the Hindenburg of untested reality formulas,” offers “two scintillating hours of tragicomedy per week.”

Paradise Hotel offers “two scintillating hours of tragicomedy per week.”
Paradise Hotel is the quintessential winning failure, the crowning disaster, the Hindenburg of untested reality formulas.” That’s according to Heather Havrilesky, who writes in Salon about “the pea-brained flesh monkeys” and their “catastrophically dimwitted interactions [that] are broadcast to a jeering nation.” She analyzes members of the cast, including “Toni, the Billy Bob Thornton of reality TV” who has “mastered all of the mainstays of good reality drama: the ultimatum, the threat, the finger shake, the ‘you mess with my friends, you’re messin’ with me’ social time bomb, the walk off in a huff, the make out then cry, and so on.”

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