Selling Sunset Season 4 Story :-
Some reality TV show feuds endure in our memories long after pop culture has moved on. From the clashes between Lauren Conrad and Kristin Cavallari in Laguna Beach to the drama between Lauren Conrad (again) and Heidi Montag in The Hills, the formula was straightforward yet oddly nuanced: Two young, beautiful, and socially classed white women pitted against each other over a guy. The loyalty between these female friends is tested as they engage in a game of he-said, she-said, and near-confrontational encounters around town, keeping audiences on edge.
Movie Ratings
| Release Date | 24 November 2021 |
| Language | English |
| Genre | Reality |
| Episodes | 10 |
| Cast | Brett Oppenheim, Jason Oppenheim, Chrishell Stause, Christine Quinn, Maya Vander, Mary Fitzgerald, Heather Rae Young, Romain Bonnet, Davina Potratz, Amanza Smith, Vanessa Villela, Emma Hernan |
| Producer | Adam DiVello, Kristofer Lindquist |
| Production | Done and Done Productions, Lionsgate Television |
| Certificate | 18+ |
Alternatively, consider one of the most iconic movies about social dominance in the past 20 years: Mean Girls. It’s a cinematic masterpiece that Christine Quinn, the perceived antagonist of Selling Sunset, references throughout the fourth and latest season premiering on Netflix on Nov. 24. Christine yearns for a means to control the other women of The Oppenheim Group, much like Rachel McAdams’ Regina George in high school. However, Christine lacks the gravitas or strength to convincingly embody either a villain or a victim. This is where the season falls short. There’s no one to root for, no one to despise, yet everyone is undeniably exhausting.
The season begins with a visibly pregnant Christine alienated from her fellow real estate colleagues—Mary, Heather, and Chrishell. Meanwhile, Vanessa Villela, a former Mexican telenovela actor, joins the group. While Christine searches for a new home for her growing family in L.A. County, her colleagues feel slighted because they learned of her pregnancy through social media. But this isn’t the main issue.
The conflict escalates when Jason Oppenheim, founder of The Oppenheim Group, introduces Emma to replace Christine during her absence. Christine claims that Emma had an affair with her ex from five years ago, and Mary, her oldest friend from the company, sided with Emma during the fallout. Emma and Mary offer conflicting accounts, accusing Christine of lying and denying any overlap between Emma’s relationship and Christine’s ex. If reading the previous sentences feels exhausting, imagine how tedious it is to recount this tired drama. Yet, the show persists, with several episodes revolving solely around this conflict, culminating in a lackluster confrontation in the final episode.
One might wonder: Why dredge up this ex from five years ago now? Christine is now married with a newborn, while Emma is presumably single. Why does this past relationship matter? The season unnecessarily fixates on finger-pointing among women who have clearly moved on with their lives, leaving viewers with no real stakes or substance. The show attempts to sell drama alongside real estate, but unfortunately, the former lacks depth, resembling a two-dimensional image that shatters the illusion of escapism. While it’s known that cameras and production crews manipulate storylines, effective editing and positioning can still create believable performances.
This is where Christine falters as the central narrative device to drive the season forward. To be a compelling villain, one must be committed, like Kristin Cavallari, Nene Leakes, or Tiffany “New York” Pollard. Even when they were wrong, they embraced their roles with conviction. Christine’s inconsistency undermines her credibility as a villain or victim, leaving us with a portrayal of high school politics devoid of substance or purpose.
What made season three of Selling Sunset memorable were the diverse subplots that kept viewers engaged: Mary and Romain’s relationship, Chrishell’s divorce, Heather’s desire for marriage. However, this season lacks such depth, cheapening the characters and their conflicts. It would have been more compelling to explore Christine’s journey through new motherhood, Romain’s quest for independence, or Davina’s reflections on dynamics and boundaries. Instead, we’re left with petty finger-pointing, devoid of meaningful dialogue or resolution. One can’t help but wonder: Are they afraid of each other? And if so, wouldn’t it be enlightening, or at least entertaining, to see where that fear might lead?
