Review of “Love Is Blind” Season 7: The series is not very DC-appropriate.

Although Virginia is supposedly a place for lovers, almost everyone admits that nearby Washington DC is not. The nation's capital has consistently been ranked as one of the worst places to live and one of the worst cities in the US for singles. Too many Type A's, too many people too invested in their jobs, too many people ready to leave after two years – it's not exactly a city that screams romance. They say politics is show business for ugly people, which would make DC the Hollywood of Uggos.

Given Washington's fame, it was only a matter of time before Netflix bought in Love is blind to the country's capital.

In its first season, the Netflix reality dating series emphasized the hope of romance — the possibility of falling in love with someone you'd never met before and marrying them within a month — but it's turned into a series about irreparable Incompatibility has become in which frightening stories are told about waving red flags monsters. There were also complaints from participants about toxic and inhospitable work environments in and outside the “pods.” Still, the love experiment is one of Netflix's biggest hits, and every season a captive audience tunes in to see a new set of daters and the horrors — body shaming, weaponized therapy language, flying in toilets — that await them on the other side of the World expect wall.

Now we have what sounds like a perfect, hellish match: one of the worst dating cities in the US, combined with one of the darkest reality TV dating shows in history. On paper, it feels more like a challenge or taunt, a gift to haters. Only the craziest freaks, a few real District of Columbia sufferers, would sign up Love is blind: DC.

But while there are plenty of villains and intersecting love triangles in this highly watchable season, it unfortunately doesn't feel very DC.

For one thing, no one is explicitly working in the government this season. To be fair, the show isn't very specific when it comes to the professions of its contestants, so an “IT specialist” could ostensibly work for a military government contractor and an “engineer” could do research for Lockheed, for example. Martin. The closest we come, however, is to a performer who is described as a “champion of politics,” which seems to be a nice euphemism for lobbyist.

Capitol Hill discourages its employees from representing themselves Love is blind is understandable because many of the participants are portrayed embarrassingly and negatively. But this dynamic of proximity to national political power that fuels a person's dating identity is exactly what makes DC dating unique and (after all these news stories about people hating dating there) so hostile. That the show spent a season in DC and couldn't capture the snobbery of an employee asking, “Who do you work for?” feels like a loss.

There seems to be a reluctance to enter politics this season too. A candidate talks about how he voted in the 2016 and 2020 elections, and there's a conversation about what political beliefs one has while serving in the military, but also about politics as it relates to dating preferences – e.g. E.g. whether love is more important than politics, whether similarly politics means compatibility, etc. – is hardly discussed. That's a missed opportunity, not only given DC's alleged political activity, but also because it's becoming increasingly important for singles to find partners who share the same political views.

That said, there are still enough relationship issues this season to feed the horror junkie audience.

Brittany, a beautiful woman who wants to be a model woman and tells the camera that she can't spell the word “physicist,” falls in love with Leo, a young art dealer who tells everyone that one of his insecurities is that he is one inherited a huge sum of money and never has to worry about anything financially. The more the audience gets to know Leo, the more it seems like this isn't an insecurity at all. The more Brittany gets to know Leo, the more interested she becomes in his “insecurity.”

There's also Hannah, a 26-year-old woman who gave up her “dream job” to appear on the show. The dream job in question? Sales of medical equipment. There may be honor and excitement in selling CPAP machine accessories, but she gave up everything for the possibility of unparalleled reality TV love. To that end, she tells Nick, one of her pod admirers, that she dates jocks and is always worried that men will only see her as a hot girl. Nick tells her he looks like a less athletic Henry Cavill. Neither prepares to over-deliver.

Hannah, Nick, Leo, Brittany and their cohort deliver a season full of red flags and dealbreakers. From harrowing arguments about yapping too much to circular conversations about how annoying it is to watch your partner sitting on patio furniture, there's a lot here. If you're married, you'll breathe a sigh of relief that you're out of the dating pool. If you are single you will enjoy it.

Love is blind is still a compelling, crazy exploration of the worst of people falling in and out of love, even if it doesn't feel like DC.

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