#ej dickson

In Gilead, just as in contemporary society, the real villains aren't the ones we've come to expect: the hulking storm troopers who guide the borders or the puffy-haired, vituperative demagogue spouting racist and sexist invective on the campaign trail. The real villain is the Well-Meaning Man: the one who looks the other way in the face of oppression, convinced that it'll all blow over; the one who offers assistance while sliding a hand up a thigh; the one who has a vested interest in trying to make the world better, not caring that for some people, it makes the world worse. Gilead isn't just a stone's throw away from our own reality; we're already living in it. And if we want to find out who's responsible for this, we need look no further than our Tinder inboxes.

Though Sasso was known more for his cuddly Italian charm than his sex appeal on The Circle, it’s made clear in the first episode that prior to arriving at the mansion, Sasso had had sex with two contestants: Farago and Kariselle Snow, the motormouthed aspiring musician on Sexy Beasts. (“There are literally girls who think he’s famous!,” Snow tells another contestant of Sasso’s “groupies,” a sentiment  that parallels the incredulity of viewers at home.)  The on-again, off-again relationship between Snow and Sasso is the surprisingly sweet motor that keeps the first few episodes of Perfect Match running.