The Housewives have officially gone international with Wednesday’s premiere of The Real Housewives of Dubai, the first overseas iteration of the franchise to be produced by Bravo.
For those expecting a borderline offensive Sex and the City 2-style trainwreck, 1) I don’t blame you and 2) this is decidedly not that. The problem with The Real Housewives of Dubai is not that it is problematic or whitewashed or tone-deaf—well, at least not any more than the other Housewives installments.
No, rather, the problem with the new reality series is that it is brutally, mind-numbingly boring.
The cast of The Real Housewives of Dubai is undeniably diverse, and each Housewife’s intro indicates her nationality in addition to her job and marital status.
First up is Sara Al Madani, an Emirati tech entrepreneur who describes herself as a proud Muslim, but also a “fusion” between her culture and her rebellious personality. Then there’s Chanel Ayan, born and raised in Kenya before becoming Dubai’s first Black supermodel. British reality TV vet Caroline Stanbury has lived in Dubai for seven years and previously appeared on the short-lived Bravo series Ladies of London. Nina Ali is a Lebanese American “mommy influencer” and seems to be the social head of the group. Caroline Brooks, an American expat from Massachusetts, and Lesa Milan, a Jamaican American fashion designer, round out the cast.
I would tell you what the plot of the debut episode is if only I could remember it. (And yes, I watched immediately prior to writing this review).
It begins with Al Madani explaining in Arabic that she feels blessed to have grown up in Dubai to witness the rapid evolution of the city. Her narration is accompanied by a time lapse depicting the transformation of Dubai from “just sand dunes and a couple of buildings” in 1966 into the skyscraper metropolis that it is today.
It’s relatively interesting to hear the ladies opine on the wealth and culture of Dubai, but so far it doesn’t seem to factor directly into the plotlines on the show. Though Ali notes at one point that the sale of alcohol is restricted, champagne and rosé flows in nearly every scene. The most significant impact of the UAE’s restrictive laws in the premiere seems to be that Stanbury cannot have penis-shaped straws at her bachelorette party.
Judging by the first episode, The Real Housewives of Dubai is at serious risk of becoming a one-woman show revolving around Ayan, who incidentally is the most annoying cast member by a mile. She has clearly studied the Jen Shah Guidebook to Being a Reality TV Star, which advises new Housewives to be as extra as possible and speak exclusively in meme-ready taglines in order to secure maximum screen time. Only unlike Shah, Ayan is neither funny nor a white-collar criminal (that we know of).
Maybe the supermodel genuinely is as egocentric and confrontational as she purports to be on camera, immediately proclaiming in four different languages that she is fabulous and a badass bitch. Or maybe she has just watched hours of old Housewives seasons, diligently taking notes on Lisa Vanderpump’s charmingly delusional sense of self-importance and Kenya Moore’s impeccably crafted love-to-hate-her villain persona.
Each of Ayan’s confessional one-liners sounds more rehearsed than the last, like, “Whoever comes here, don’t try to steal my stardom because, honey, I’m the star in this city,” or, “There’s a lot of gold here, and we have a lot of gold diggers, too.” She punctuates insults with exaggerated side-eye and a slow sip of her cocktail. She sticks her tongue out like a child when someone she doesn’t like is speaking. This woman is absolutely begging to be turned into a reaction .GIF. (Although, I must admit I let out a snort when she said of Caroline Stanbury and her much younger husband: “All of their sexual energy is on their Instagram page.”)
Unfortunately, though, none of the other women bring much to the table. If it weren’t for Ayan, there literally wouldn’t be anything to write about. They all seem nice enough, which may be why the premiere was so dull. They have fancy modern houses and expensive designer wardrobes that straddle the line between enviable and absurd. The most bizarrely entertaining moment of the episode is when Lesa has giant $1200 blocks of ice delivered to cool down her swimming pool. More of this odd, wildly unrelatable rich people business, please!
It’s hard not to compare this snooze of a series premiere to the truly perfect first episode of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City, Bravo’s other recent addition to the franchise.
When RHOSLC premiered in November 2020 with its cast of certified oddballs and the thematic backdrop of Mormonism, it was obvious from the get-go that it was the stuff of reality TV magic. It had Whitney Rose sliding down a stripper pole after renewing her vows to her husband, with whom she got excommunicated from the Mormon church as a result of their scandalous affair.
We met couture-hoarding possible cult leader Mary Cosby and learned for the first time of her arranged marriage to her step-grandfather. And of course, who could forget the iconic fight between Cosby and Jen Shah that started because Cosby said Shah “smelled like hospital?”
It’s not entirely a shock that The Real Housewives of Dubai is so boring compared to Bravo’s other offerings. When the trailer dropped two weeks ago, the online reaction was lukewarm, with Twitter users commenting that a surprise cameo from The Real Housewives of Atlanta’s Phaedra Parks was the most interesting part of the clip.
Still, as a devout Real Housewives obsessive, I held out hope that the premiere would be a pleasant surprise. Nobody wanted to like this show more than I did. Unfortunately, and this brings me no happiness to report, not even the promise of a Phaedra appearance is enough to make this one worth watching. If you need me, I’ll be bingeing Season 3 of The Real Housewives of New York City for the 27th time.
