Like Selling Sunset, Selling the OC follows a similar formula (Netflix). I had not, unfortunately. I went into it without any prior knowledge or preparation, and as a result, I’m currently in a state of nervous collapse from which I do not anticipate a speedy recovery.
That’s why. Selling Sunset was (and is, as it has been renewed for a sixth and seventh season on Netflix) a reality TV show based in the opulent Los Angeles offices of luxury real estate brokerage firm the Oppenheim Group, owned and run by identical twins Brett and Jason, whose appearance and demeanor raise serious concerns about their possible genetic relationship to Lord Voldemort. In a whirlwind of ambition, personal enmities, borderline affairs, treacheries, bitching, and Botox that would knock the wind out of any English person (and probably quite a few non-Californians as well), the Gucci-clad agents manage to not only survive, but appear to thrive.
The siblings have opened a new location in Orange County, which is about an hour’s drive away. Though it may appear to the untrained eye that they have simply relocated the entire staff from Sunset, I have been assured by more knowledgeable individuals that all of the employees are new hires. Nonetheless, they all seem to have come from the same factory, made of the same extruded plastic, buffed to a high shine, sprayed with the same tans, fitted with the same teeth, and released into the wild to compete for commission checks by finding and selling properties to billionaire clients while also navigating the backbiting intra-office dramas.
So far, Alex Hall has emerged victorious. She’s a brunette with incredible breasts and an attitude that sets her apart from the crowd by exuding an almost human sense of kindness.
After that, there’s Gio. The man boasts, “I am the top dog at the Oppenheim Group and I am a fucking rock star” and “On a confidence scale of one to 10, I’m a fucking 15.” Think of every Apprentice contestant, condensed into a tiny body conditioning in a gym, and you wouldn’t come close. Alex sums up Gio perfectly: “He’s such a tool.” In fact, it supports my earlier assertions about the innate kindness of human beings. A $3 million commission on a $10 million Laguna Beach mansion is now in jeopardy, and he should have been thrown off one of the mansion’s many balconies and into the Pacific Ocean.
After that, there is a British woman named Polly who has a voice like a knife through the heart, and then there is Kayla, a young mother who was abandoned by her parents when she became pregnant. Two other Alexes are Alexandra Rose and Alexis Jarvis. Besides the fact that one of them is confused about whether or not the United States of America and North America are separate countries, I can’t find a cigarette paper’s worth of difference between these two vicious blondes we’re clearly being encouraged to love to hate. They’re effective as a unit and achieving great success in their careers, but they’re not exactly winning over the hearts and minds of their coworkers.
In contrast to before, there seems to be a lot more glittering folk. I can’t possibly remember them all. Any sane person would break down under the stress of all the outbursts, accusations of badmouthing, counter-accusations, loyalties, disloyalties, alliances, and double-crosses. For every 10 minutes of content I could watch, I had to spend three days lying on the couch in the dark. On the other hand, I did keep an eye on it, and I recommend that you do the same.