The first episode of Carlawood‘s second season has Carla look for a new assistant. Helpfully, there’s a graphic on-screen that says “Carla’s New Bitch.” She goes through an aggressive trainer, a party animal and other people Carlawood tries to sell as eccentric. Seriously, why is this so important to the show? So she’s getting a new assistant? Who gives a shit?
Carlawood tries to imbue the most mundane situations with high drama. Carla has complications regarding her green card. Carla trains for a five-kilometre run. Carla needs a new publicist. I know it’s a reality show, but nothing happens on Carlawood. I said this when the show debuted, and it’s just as true now.
I don’t pick on Carlawood for easy page views. I am genuinely baffled as to why Collins deserves a reality show, and why Carlawood demands a second season. Collins comes across as self-absorbed and a bad shill. Carlawood is trying to mimic Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D List, except that Kathy Griffin is a genuinely caustic, interesting personality. Collins just wants to play Ron James and sell a book.
I’d be fairer to Carlawood if it wasn’t such an infomercial for Collins’ interests. I only watch shows like this when I plan on reviewing them, and Carlawood angers me every time I see it. The woman comes across as superficial as Hollywood itself. Is she fronting for the camera? I don’t know, and I don’t care.
In the end, I don’t blame Carla Collins for Carlawood‘s faults. She has to earn a living. No, I blame Canadian television for being so conservative. Canadian television is much, much more likely to buoy established talents than take chances on the unknown. King Kaboom dies while Carlawood eats up screen time. It’s as much a fact of life as breathing and nocturnal emissions.