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Twenty years into the modern era of Housewifery, there are lots of similarities among the cities and among the women. They laugh the same way, fight the same way, and get lip injections, nose jobs, and boob lifts the same way. It’s increasingly rare that we get a true original in our midst, but that is just what we have in Amanda Cronin. There’s something about the way she takes on the other women that is absolutely amazing. When she calls Angus a “low-life” or when she tells Panthea to “get a job,” she’s not lobbing accusations; she’s stating facts. Even when she gets in the depths of a heated discussion, her voice never rises beyond a soft simmer. She’s unbothered, she’s above it, she doesn’t even have to engage with these other women because what they say can’t hurt her and what she says about them carries the unvarnished truth of something published in a peer-reviewed scientific journal.
The best example of this over these two episodes is the ladies’ dinner at Glenapp Castle in Scotland. (Rooms go for £500 to £2,500 a night.) However, before that, Amanda has lunch with her old friend, returning champion Dorinda Medley. Now here is someone who knows how to yell at a Housewife. When Dorinda is in a fight, her neck unscrews, her head operates independently of her body, and then she unlatches her jaw and her head fully opens so that she can let out a torrent of vitriol at whomever her target is like a never-ending line of black Silly String. Either that or she’s shouting “Clip! Clip!” to shut them up. Dorinda mentions that she is a white witch, and Amanda’s head swivels like a toddler playing in his mother’s office chair. How did she know? Is that an insult? Dorinda is saying it like it’s a compliment. Are people complimenting Amanda and she didn’t know it? Oh yes, honey. They truly are.
At the end of lunch, Amanda mentions her fight with Angus and says, “I found her surface level, shallow, no depth, no loyalty, greasing her palm wherever she can, one-sided, one track …” The list would keep going, but Dorinda interrupts to tell Amanda she’s “being a cunty bitch” and she loves it. But that is the power of Amanda. While she is being a cunty bitch, she is also ticking off those deficiencies like the voice reading out the side effects at the end of a pharmaceutical commercial. She doesn’t care if you notice or hear them; it’s like she has to mention them for everyone’s safety. In her mind, all of it is true; she’s better than Angus, and she doesn’t have to prove what she’s saying because it is unassailable. That is why Amanda is a true star and the rest of these ladies are just projections in a third-rate planetarium.
The trip starts when Juliet invites everyone to the castle that she and her husband are investors in, and Panthea says that she always claims to own it even though she doesn’t. She does this at Amanda’s house during lunch by inviting a bagpiper indoors. I’m sorry, but bagpipes are not an indoor instrument. They are literally made loud enough to rally troops from a long distance. You put that in a London home, and everyone’s eardrums will be bursting like the pimples on a bodybuilder’s back. Even worse, Juliet has a three-page invitation poem about leaving all of their baggage and drama behind and meeting them in the castle. Juliet signs it “with humility,” but as Panthea points out, where is the humility in writing a three-page invitation? The worst thing about all of this: making me agree with Panthea.
What I disagree with is that everyone is upset that Juliet signed it “The Queen of Hearts.” Panthea thinks that she is likening herself to Princess Diana, who once said she would like to be remembered that way. I took it more as a little joke likening herself to the evil presence in Alice in Wonderland, but both Panthea and Angus get all upset about it. Ugh, why can’t these women take a joke? For someone who thinks she’s funnier than a set at the Yuk Yuk Hut, Panthea sure doesn’t know how to ascertain humor. Then she needles Juliet with it until she’s had more holes poked in her than a tapestry. If you have a problem with it, bring it up. If you don’t, then shut up. But saying it repeatedly until someone asks you about it is the most annoying option of all.
The only thing slightly more annoying is Panthea when they do an approximation of the Highland Games at the castle. Panthea puts on her sneakers (sorry, “trainers”) and her Lululemon to show that she is serious about sports and really wants to win. Is there anything worse than competitive people? This is supposed to be a lark, a fun afternoon in the sun. Instead, now everyone is on edge about their performance. However, it’s so Panthea that she’s so concerned about winning that she doesn’t listen to the rules and ends up getting disqualified for not doing the games right. What makes it even worse is she takes digs at Amanda all afternoon, saying she’s not strong, that she’s a dumb blonde, that she can’t even understand the rules when it’s Panthea who is thicker than 12 haggises and can’t get the rules straight.
This tension comes out at dinner, and it is one of the most spectacular Housewives dinners we’ve seen in a long time, and no one had to play a stupid game to get the drama going. Finally fed up, Amanda tells Panthea, “Stop with the rude comments, because I’m good at everything, okay?” Again, not above a whisper, she totally believes it; she’s just taking Panthea down with the amount of effort most of us use to put jam on toast. Panthea says something about her reputation, and Amanda says that the gossip she heard is that Panthea engages in a lot of swinger parties in Marlow. Not posh suburb Marlow, home to a Michelin-starred pub, catching strays. Obviously this goes against Amanda’s red line against gossip and makes her into a hypocrite, but, know what, it’s against Panthea Parker, so I’ll allow it.
This is when Amanda tells Panthea to get a job, and she says she has the best job of all, which is being a mother. Angus tries to step in with an assist and says that Amanda didn’t always have a job. “What are you talking about?” she replies. “I’ve worked my whole life, you ridiculous person. You pea brain.” The blitheness with which she tinkles out the most devastating invective is absolutely astonishing. All Housewives should have to take this course. When Juliet says she has texts of people saying Amanda is a monster, Amanda says, “People just say ‘Ew’ when I talk about you.” Cleared again. Even though both Paul, the proprietor of the castle, Juliet, their host, and Nessie, who doesn’t want to ruin a terrible outfit with fighting, try to stop them, they’re just trying to get the last word in and won’t relent. Excellent television. Everyone earned their free dinner.
The next morning, Juliet and Nessie are scandalized by everyone’s behavior and want everyone to be well-behaved for the rest of the trip. Amanda is upset at them because she thinks that they didn’t support her enough when she was attacked by Angus and Panthea. First of all, it didn’t look like Amanda needed any support. Second of all, wasn’t she doing so much attacking that she sank both of their battleships? This is Amanda’s playbook, because she’s always right that anyone who is saying anything against her is wrong and needs to be shut down. Then she tells Nessie that she needs to grow some balls and pick a side, and by pick a side she means her side because in Amanda’s brain no other side exists.
Things are going well until the ladies discover that Juliet’s big surprise is to take them falconing with a giant bird named River. River? Is this a bird or a non-binary member of a polycule in Gowanus that you met on Feeld? When River lands on Angus’s head (without consent!) Amanda takes off and sits on the grass, afraid this will happen to her. Panthea takes the opportunity to bring Amanda her purse and try to bury the hatchet and, strangely, this is the only moment that Amanda really raises her voice. She harangues Panthea, who can barely get a word in, and wants Panthea to agree to stop spreading rumors and disparaging remarks about women when she is doing the same thing. Just because Panthea started it doesn’t mean she opened the window for Amanda to do the same. Also, close your windows in Scotland. River might swoop in and come after your scrunchie.
There is a lot of discussion about how far these fights have gone and what the low blows consist of. These women have called names, spread rumors, and talked about their money. The one thing I didn’t like is that Angus and some others kept saying that Amanda came after her children. No. She said Angus was a “bad mother” who is always out until 6 a.m. That is not saying that her kids are terrible, lazy, ugly, addicted to TikTok, or caught shoplifting at Brandy Melville. (Sadly, there are three in London.) She attacked Angus’s abilities as a mother, which, sorry, is allowable. That’s Angus’s behavior, and that is always fair game on these shows.
They do find a way to bury a few different hatchets, and Amanda and Angus even manage to have a sweet moment at dinner when Amanda says she’s sorry that Angus’s father passed away recently. (Have you seen the season-two trailer? They’re totally besties now!) Happy with how everything went on her trip, Juliet caps it off with a toast. She goes around the room complimenting everyone. “To my Persian beauty, to my English rose, to my American queen, to my Jamaican fabulousness, and Nessie …” Wait. Does Juliet not know where Nessie is from? Does she not know that she’s Singaporean and Egyptian? Does Juliet think that she’s actually Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster, sculling around in the frigid waters of the Highland Loch waiting for the right moment when the cameras aren’t around to finally raise her head and show that she’s the greatest monster of all? No, the real monster would never do that. The real monster is afraid of Amanda.
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