Vanderpump Rules, in many ways, serves as the non-aspirational, more grittily realistic take on the bougie world of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. It’s a cast full of people seeking fame and glory, who have all achieved that through the show, but will never fully be able to transcend that branding.
And The Valley, in just one season, has managed to usurp the darkness within VPR as it shows something even more chilling: the harsh reality of the American couple. Most of us can’t relate to serving West Hollywood tables in hopes we’ll become an actor or score ourselves a critically panned producer who can take us on private jets, but the mundane world of suburban melodrama is universal.
The Valley is most akin to Bravo’s debut Real Housewives franchise, The Real Housewives of Orange County, whose “behind the gates” approach has documented the chilling underbelly of suburbia since 2006, rom divorces, cancer scams, cheating scandals, an endless array of disastrous husbands, and harrowing parenting stories. The Valley is a sordid prequel, a cautionary tale with no happy ending.
The first season finale wonderfully wraps up a chaotic debut, while essentially offering a sneak peek into the new reality that will inhabit Season 2. And it’s one that solidifies the season as a landmark debut, proving that the Vanderpump Rules extended universe has many good days ahead of it, even if the mothership’s own future is rocky.
The finale centers around the opening of Jax Taylor’s new bar, Jax’s, but the main event is the post-filming separations of not only Jax and Brittany, but Jesse and Michelle Lally. After a season of dismal decay, two of reality TV’s most precarious marriages have buckled under pressure, after each episode provided ample documentation into why they should never have married in the first place.
(l-r) Jason Caperna, Danny Booko, and Jax Taylor.
Casey Durkin/Bravo
While we’ve spent years learning about Jax’s disturbing behavior and Brittany’s ability to bulldoze each and every red flag, Jesse and Michelle have, in 12 episodes, speed-run an entire arc. Maybe it’s the freshness of it all, too, but theirs is a separation much more intriguing.
But first, we are introduced to Jax’s new bar. Or, maybe it’s Brittany’s bar, as it’s her entire aesthetic, according to friend-of Zack. I’m not really sure why the entire VPR cast, past and present, feel the need to open physical businesses, but good luck to Jax’s.
Of course, as is common on Bravo, the party has nothing to do with the bar itself, serving simply as a venue for the cast to continue their drama. After being left out of Janet’s babymoon, Zack wants to hash things out. Spoiler alert: They do not hash anything out, as the conversation devolves into chaos within 32 seconds.
Janet’s season-long villain-making arc has been a fascinating display, wonderfully capped off by her sitting surrounded by her “gay minions” after cutting off Zack. She then tells Jax to watch his tone as she “feels threatened” before walking away, capping off a great debut in such a funny way. Janet may be a sniper from the side, but she has no interest in in-person confrontation. With her mask off, though, how easy will it be to keep stirring from the sidelines?
Resident anti-Janet truther, Kristen Doute, has found vindication, ever so slightly. When Nia asks why there’s so much drama in the group, Kristen offers a simple answer: Janet. Although, unfortunately for Kristen, her words fall on deaf ears, as she and Michelle remain entirely at odds, and Kristen remains ostracized. And so, the finale party leaves us in a beautiful place, where not a single conflict is resolved, and many more are created. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
While that alone could’ve made for a solid finale, it’s only just the beginning. Really, the finale alone was already a hit the second Zack uttered the awful line, “She’s not the queen of—actually, she is the Queen of England, because she’s dead to me!” We love our corny gay king.
As the supersized finale enters the second half, we rejoin the cast six months post-filming, as both separations hit the press. First, we reintroduce ourselves to Jesse and Michelle, who no longer live together.
“Michelle told me three days after we wrapped the cameras that our relationship was over,” Jesse shares in a confessional. “It made me feel like a fucking idiot. It made me feel like I was blind, and blindsided.”
The two sit down for a conversation, their oblivious daughter just a stone’s throw away. It’s an incredibly direct conversation, and shows a new side of Michelle. The resentment we saw build up all season has hit a boiling point, and there’s a very clear disdain on both sides. There’s also an increasing dichotomy, as the further transparent they become, the less it seems like we know. Having met Jesse and Michelle at the tail-end of their marriage, there’s a plethora of mysteries on how they ended up in this place, and what exactly created their divide.
It feels like we’ve only scratched the surface of each of their many layers. Both Jesse and Michelle have such chilling demeanors, yet both are surprisingly sympathetic. The complexity shown here is a reminder that reality TV is best viewed through the shades of gray, and it’s refreshing after the Vanderpump Rules and Summer House breakups that shook the nation, and broke the minds of many. All I know is I fear both Jesse and Michelle.
Next, the ladies meet at Janet’s house (sans Jasmine and Kristen), while Jax gets together with Jason. It’s here that we dive into the second most interesting breakup, even if it gets top billing: the dissolution of Jax and Brittany’s marriage. While Brittany talks about the marriage with a sense of finality, Jax—admitted Friends fanatic—says they’re simply “on a break.” Maybe they’re on the same break One Direction embarked on in 2015.
(l-r) Michelle Lally, Brittany Cartwright, and Kristen Doute.
Casey Durkin/Bravo
It’s funny to think that Jax and Brittany’s separation, in many ways, initially seemed like a farce to boost interest in The Valley, given the season itself would be utterly confusing if they ended up anywhere but apart.
The season closes on an overdramatic one-on-one between Jax and Brittany, as their decade of dismay finally comes to an end. And Brittany herself is sporting a new demeanor, too, calling out Jax’s manipulative tactics to come across sympathetic and trap her in the marriage. It should be noted that Brittany previously escaped Jax’s sweaty grip and told him to “RAWT IN HELL” before she decided to marry him, so we can’t be certain she’s out of the frying pan until the divorce is finalized. And even then, anything could happen. But for now, Brittany is done playing nice with Jax.
“As soon as these cameras drop, you’re going to text me a million text messages and talk horrible to me. You’re gonna rage text the shit out of me. Be real. Be real,” she says to him. To think that the Jax that we see is his muted side is certainly humorous, but also entirely unsurprising.
There’s a comfort in knowing that each and every member of this cast is too thirsty, too unable to manipulate their image to ever avoid filming with each other, so that we never fall into the Vanderpump Rules Season 11 trap. We may be two couples down, but there’s no doubt each cast member of The Valley will be back for season 2, and it has potential to be the darkest, most horrifying TV Bravo has ever aired. I can’t wait!
Even though Nia, Danny, and Kristen spend the finale on the sidelines, there are no weak-links on this impeccable cast. As we head into a Season 2 where Janet’s no longer pregnant, Michelle can openly hate Jesse, and Brittany’s done pretending Jax is a good guy, the future looks bright. Hopefully, Kristen can sneak her way back into the fold and be her beautifully diabolical self some more.
Much has been said about the modern state of Bravo and reality TV in general, and skeptics often claim the best days are simply in the rearview. But Season 1 of The Valley is proof that the simple formula of casting a group of wonderfully bizarre sociopaths is, and always will be, a recipe for success. It’s further proof that, even in the social media age, we can still find and create reality stars, even if they have this bizarro quality to them (akin to The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City). Now, If only Bravo rewarded this cast with a reunion. Maybe next year.
