One of the contestants on *Age of Attraction*, Vanelle, faces the best kind of problem: having to choose between several men. One of them is Jorge, a magnetic personality whose energy contrasts with her own gentle nature; the other is Justin, a man looking to start a family. The three of them are part of a group of perhaps two dozen people in Pemberton, British Columbia, all seeking to find their true love. Natalie Joy and Nick Viall host this new Netflix dating reality show, where these individuals have the opportunity to get to know one another. They also introduce each other to cultural references they may have missed out on over time—such as Madonna or the Spice Girls.
These contestants lay it all on the table, save for one detail: none of them can reveal their actual age until they enter the "Promise Room." Some couples don't have significant age gaps; others—like Derrick and Pfeifer (mild spoiler alert)—are 43 and 23 years old, respectively. Couples with the largest age differences get the chance to move into a set of condos to see if their ages—or their personalities—are compatible. Later on, the Vialls arrange for the contestants' family members or friends to come visit. Will these loved ones feel comfortable with the couples' age differences?
Stars: Nick Viall, Natalie Joy Viall, Vanelle
This reality show presents both differences and similarities compared to other titles in its subgenre; it aligns with them in its embrace of a certain formal elegance in the wardrobe department. It is also a show heavily focused on the outdoors and on "sweater core" style; in fact, this is the second time this month that I’ve seen Canada looking so lush and green on screen. I can think of many reasons why American productions choose Canada as the setting for filming their reality shows. The economic factor is a major driver—as it has been for the past two or three decades. But I suppose *Age of Attraction* suggests that the very first "green flag" (positive sign) for these contestants is, in fact, the simple fact that they were admitted into Canada.
As I mentioned earlier, the contestants on *Age of Attraction* have the opportunity to live in a set of condos located in... wait a minute—is this Vancouver? The show makes Vancouver look like Miami; perhaps that’s because most of the episodes in the final stretch take place indoors. At this stage, viewers get to peek behind closed doors, allowing us to find out who is—and isn't—having sex.
We also witness pillow talk—moments when contestants reveal those "red flags" (warning signs) for which we will ultimately judge them. Or, we witness couch conversations—like the one where Theresa praises John, highlighting the wisdom beyond his years with which he handles various situations. Whether or not she herself lives up to that same level of maturity is another matter entirely. One of the reasons viewers tune in to shows like *Age of Attraction* is to see which couples end up crashing and burning spectacularly. But the appeal seems to go deeper than that—even when reality TV regulars—like the Vialls—serve as hosts rather than producers. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they want their contestants to fare better than they did themselves. Natalie Joy and Nick also have an 18-year age gap, and perhaps they decided to host this show in an effort to help reduce the stigma associated with it. Personally, I don’t perceive such a stigma, as we—millennials—tend not to make a big deal out of it.
However, being on the other side of that generational divide is a different experience altogether. Nevertheless, reality TV functions like a distorted funhouse mirror, revealing a side of these contestants that, in all likelihood, they themselves completely overlook. And, speaking as a millennial who views age-gap relationships favorably, I must say that the show succeeds in capturing the reasons why these contestants choose to bridge that generational divide—even if, at times, they don't go about it in the best possible way.
While the "hall of mirrors" effect of *Age of Attraction* casts some contestants in an unflattering light, it proves quite flattering for others. If I were a betting man, I’d bet against Andrew and Libby; however, so far, all signs suggest I’d end up losing my money. At first, I pegged Libby as a quintessential Gen Z-er: distant and somewhat apathetic; yet, Andrew’s serene demeanor and dry wit manage to bring out her more mature side. The mature Andrew—incidentally—is exactly my age; in fact, some of Libby’s friends have remarked that he "needs Botox."
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