The Bachelorette NZ: Steve Braunias -one tough lady and a bunch of drongos

The Bachelorette 's Vaz. Photo / Supplied

OPINION:

No. No, that just isn't right.

Last night's episode of The Bachelorette – it feels like it's the longest-running series in TV history on account of the fact so much of it is so freaking boring, but by the looks of things is actually racing to a quick and brutal finish – made a meal of romantic failure, presented rejection as entertainment.

Well it certainly passes the time during lockdown 3.0 but there was something indecent about it.

I watched with my daughter and we were shocked to the bone at the way poor old Jake and wretched old Vaz took the news that Hottie Lexie had dumped their sorry asses. We were so shocked that we rewound, and watched the tears of Vaz one more time, and listened to the soliloquy delivered from the bottom of his broken heart, with tears streaming down his long, unhappy face: "She got me all wrong. I'm just trying to be understood. I don't get understood very often. You start to wonder whether there's anyone out there who gives a sh*t."

We cried from the couch: "We do! You're all good, Vaz!"

The show's mindless banter and stupid games fell away as wet-faced Vaz stared miserably at the camera. The Bachelorette is tough, man.

"It's the first time I've ever put myself out there," said Jake.

He looked like he'd been run over by a truck. The moral of The Bachelorette is: don't put yourself out there. It's less about who gets the rose than who gets nothing.

"Say your goodbyes," creaked the show's wooden host, Art Green, as Jake and Vaz took their leave. The show has travelled to Queenstown and it looked like the rose ceremony was held beside a swamp. The sky was dark. A wind had got up. Failure rang like a distant bell that got louder and louder.

There are now eight contestants left. After six episodes of gazing at the assembled drongos of love, I've learned most of their names. There's Drongo Paul and Drongo Todd and Drongo Joe the Builder …and…um…Every now and then an unidentified drongo looms into camera, and my daughter and I ask each other, "Who the hell is that?"

It usually turns out to be the tremendously unmemorable Drongo Aidan.

Non-drongo Vaz was among the show's most memorable contestants and not merely because he was 6' 7" and had an incredible body.

He was emotional. He was deep. He wasn't sure of his place in the world and didn't know the right things to say and was afraid of the dark night of the soul.

He was worried about not being understood but maybe his real problem was that he couldn't be bothered understanding Hottie Lexie.

Before the rose ceremony, he wondered out loud that if Hottie Lexie gave him a rose, he might tell her to shove it. It seemed much more likely that he'd have clung on to it for dear life.

Farewell, Vaz! It's true, you know: you're all good.