The producers of "Newlyweds" clearly have a firm grasp on the comedy presented by these two. The clever editing and comical music choices echo the style and tone of "The Osbournes" and indeed, the two shows share many of the same producers, line producers and story editors, along with the same music supervisor, Melinda Gedman. While few would dispute that the quality of "The Osbournes" lies in the family's incomparable charms, "Newlyweds" proves that editors and producers who can craft a compelling, witty storyline from countless hours of raw footage play a crucial role in making these shows so entertaining.
In one particularly hilarious use of cross-cutting between scenes, Lachey visits his sexy dancers' hotel room as they change into costume while Simpson talks to her mom in a room a few doors down:
Simpson: "We're getting a gun."
Mom: "Why?"
Simpson: "For protection. He's like, 'You just gotta promise me you won't shoot me.'"
Cut to Lachey talking to dancers in their bras. Close-up on a dancer's butt with the word "Nick" written on it.
Simpson: "I'm like, 'Baby, the only time I would ever shoot you is if you cheated on me, and then I'd shoot your dick off.'"
That sounds reasonable enough, right? At least no one can say these two don't communicate openly.
Having grown up with parents who didn't ask her to so much as straighten up her room, Simpson struggles mightily with the simplest tasks, balking at cleaning spills off the floor or doing her own laundry. In one episode, the couple goes camping with Lachey's brother and his wife, and the women spend most of the trip whining about bugs and dirt, or daydreaming about the manicures, pedicures, massages and facials they're going to line up the second they get back to Los Angeles.
Home life seems to be just as taxing. "Is this chicken or fish?" Simpson asks as she eats dinner on the couch with her husband. She's confused, you see, because on the can it says, as she puts it, "Chicken by the Sea." Her husband just stares at her blankly like he can't tell if she's joking around or not. Sadly, she's not, and she quickly becomes angry at him for refusing to answer her question. Indeed, Simpson seems very sensitive about having lived under a rock all these years, and can repeatedly be heard chirping, "Don't make fun of me!"
In contrast, Lachey has done his own laundry "since he was in the third grade," according to Simpson. Instead of hiring movers, Lachey moves himself out of his condo and into the garish house he and Simpson have shared since their wedding. Simpson and her mother find this choice preposterous, of course, and sit around looking baffled as they watch him drag heavy furniture through the door. At one point, while Lachey and his brother are moving a big dresser up a long flight of stairs, Simpson yells to him from the next room.
"It's in these moments I'm glad I don't have a gun," Nick mumbles. "Because I would shoot myself." His brother responds, "Why would you shoot yourself?"
Assuming that their marriage doesn't end in bloodshed, how long can these two stubbornly hold their own ground? Simpson never seems to give up her efforts to bend Lachey to her will, and Lachey rarely backs down from the things that are important to him. Take the classic marital dilemma presented by raw onions:
Simpson: "Whoa, you stink."
Lachey: "Baja Fresh is just ... too much onion."
Simpson: "You know you can get it without onions. Always ask to do that. You know you'll get more kisses."
Lachey: "I'm not gonna blow a good meal for a kiss!"
As henpecked husbands and raw-onion fans alike shed tears of joy at Lachey's courage in the face of oppression, we're reminded that, in the end, the health of a marriage boils down to a few simple choices: A good meal or a kiss? An endlessly whining wife or a cleaning lady? One night of passion with a hot stranger or the family jewels?
Even with such telling moments captured on camera for all eternity, it's impossible to tell where Lachey and Simpson's marriage is headed. Will the relationship become more solid as Simpson learns to enjoy camping, folding her own laundry and delaying gratification, almost like a real live adult? Or will the marriage crumble under the strain of their differences, devolving into alienation and contemptuous outbursts? Either way, we can only hope that cameras are rolling on that fateful day when the picnics come to an end.
About the writer
Heather Havrilesky is Salon's TV and entertainment correspondent. She created the cartoon Filler for Suck.com with illustrator Terry Colon and maintains the rabbit blog.
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