Alright. Here we are at our fourth Commitment Ceremony — and I know we're all quietly vibrating with anticipation to see Juliette receive her long-overdue dressing down. But first, we must wade through the usual pre-ceremony debrief.

First, the participants break down what they saw at the dinner party. No one can quite believe what they witnessed, least of all Bec who is appalled by Juliette's shameless spite. "She was so nasty to him," she says, fully embodying her newly chastened and rational identity. "She's gonna have more heat than a sauna," says Danny, slipping briefly into a Guy Ritchie movie.

Checking in on Joel, he's "dazed and confused" and his "heart is hurting." Puffy-eyed, he stares into space while giving himself a silent self-development pep talk. "I don't deserve to be treated like that," he says. No, you dildo-drumming king, you do not. 

Meanwhile, Juliette is utterly unmoved. She won't apologise, no way – he's disgusting, ew, idiot, what a goblin, etc. "I hope the experts see Joel for what he truly is," she says. "He was not giving Star of the Show, he was giving loser, he was giving meanie-poop." 

She thinks her anger was justified. She mocks him (and The Bear) again. 

Oh, babe, I cannot freaking wait for them to run the tape.

Over at Steph and Tyson's place, it's the same old tired song and dance.

Tyson is a misogynistic overlord, Steph is exhausted but indulgent. At last night's dinner party, Tyson thinks they went "pretty good," mainly because Steph chose to keep her mouth shut. 

"Tyson doesn't like to be challenged," she says, dissociating while he answers her diplomatic questions. "I'm at my wits end." 

And let's be clear, this kind of quiet surrender is textbook.

The woman backs off because it's easier. If she doesn't push back, maybe there won't be a fight every three minutes. The scales begin to tip. The 'dominant' partner feels emboldened and vindicated, while the other person — along with their voice — shrinks down to half her size. Phase one complete. 

Arriving at the Commitment Ceremony, everyone looks tense. 

Juliette is giving Gwyneth Paltrow at the ski-trial. Steph appears to have visited Ivana Trump's personal hairdresser.

First on the couch: Stella and Filip. Their conversation centres on the timing of the 'L' word. The love is clearly there, but Filip is either sensibly waiting until they escape the vortex before declaring it — or the producers have forced him into some elaborate Perfect Moment scenario involving candles and orchestral music. Place your bets, people. 

Unexpectedly, though, they both vote 'leave' and disappear via a secret trapdoor to start their new, offscreen life. Just kidding, they're staying. Obvs.

Joel and Juliette are up next — which is a little surprising given the show's fetish for delayed gratification, but fine, I'm totally ready. True to form, Juliette says the week has been 'okay'. Joel disagrees. "It's been really bad," he says, before calmly explaining once again what he actually said during The Star Incident.

"No," Juliette says. "You said, you are the star. You said, you see me as your way onto this show."

Naturally, he denies it. "She has no respect for me," he says, listing the various insults and humiliations she's thrown at him all week.

"It does feel like I'm getting devil vibes sometimes," she says. "You should apologise to me." She, it seems, is the victim in all of this. He has intentionally launched a "smear campaign", for one thing. He has conspired with the boys to take her down. DISTAIN UPON THEE! 

Principal John's face is a treat to behold.

He asks her to list the things Joel's said and done to deliberately make her look bad. She thinks about that for a hundred years, then returns to the made-up "star" comment. Excellent argument, ma'am, you are the winner.

Except, of course, she's not. Joel eventually distils the issue. "I'm not a character. I've worked hard to be this man. I have a very strong sense of self. I am happy and joyful and I make people feel good." And hold up — is there any chance we can put a version of these words in Bec's mouth? In Gia's? Just a thought.

They get into a scrap, forcing Principal John to call order. "I find it breathtaking that you, Juliette, want an apology from Joel for last night. Your behaviour was ugly. And mean. And cruel. We're not sure we've ever seen anyone on such an attack." 

He dismantles the smear campaign narrative, pointing out that Joel never once retaliated while she systematically tore down his character. And yet, she wants an apology?

It's fabulous.

Lika any sulky teenager in the Principal's office, though, Juliette rolls her eyes. 

"You can never talk to your partner like that," he says. "It is absolutely unacceptable."

Chiming in, Alessandra calls her behaviour "incredibly vile." If that's how she speaks to him in public, what on earth is she saying in private? 

Juliette half-concedes she was unkind before immediately justifying it. "I do say mean things, that's normal, everyone does it."

Mel's turn. "You're not taking any of this on board. I have not heard a word of acknowledgement from you."

Cornered, Juliette produces the most reluctant apology in human history, but addresses it to the group rather than Joel. When prompted to redirect, she tells him that she doesn't in fact have that much hatred for him. "You're definitely a man," she says. 

It's so far from good enough. She keeps banging on about how hurt she is. But by what? She goes on and on and on. She talks over Alessandra, and Mel quite rightly bites her head off. GO TEAM!

Citing self-respect, Joel votes to leave (Farmer Luke, pay attention, this is some grade A behaviour modelling right here). But oh shit, plot twist: Juliette VOTES TO STAY. Whaaaaaat?

Apparently she didn't realise how awful she'd been and wants the chance to make it up to him. Noooooo, chuck her out, John! Thow the red card!

Really leaning into the school office metaphor, Joel issues the bare minimum of conditions in the tone of a weary parent. He will not tolerate disrespect. No second chances. 

"Sure," says Juliette, "I guess we can chat about it tomorrow."

Oh, girl, I cannot.

Next, we hear from Rachel and Steve — and I'm so hoping we get something a little different. And, to an extent, we do. They had a "good kiss and a cuddle on the bed". He called her sexy. He writes three exclamation points next to his 'stay' vote. And it's not fireworks, but fine, I'll take it.

Chris and Sam, the beautiful unicorns, are their usual delightful selves. They've pashed (for 25-30 seconds, Chris timed it). They're mature, and mutually celebratory. And actually, their situation offers a useful reminder: that, in fact, big events like impending children don't necessarily arrive with "perfect" planning. Life doesn't always follow tidy timelines. Because being human is complicated and ease is a huge privilege. Perhaps we should redefine compatibility as the willingness to accommodate for curveballs and circumstances of all kinds, no matter how unfamiliar or unexpected. 

Here endeth the sermon. 

Moving on, we unpack the Facebook photo with Gia and Scott. She explains the situation with infinitely more clarity than we got from the edit. Scott explains himself, apologises, confirms he has now deleted the 500 photos of his ex in her undies. "We moved on straight away," he says. 

But Gia is still bruised.

"I felt like shit," she says. "I was prepared to leave." They talk it through some more, Scott says some nice things about learning and wanting to do whatever it takes to meet her needs. And that's great, but our partners are not responsible for validating our self-worth. That job belongs to us. Placing all the blame on Scott doesn't necessarily help Gia's growth. Just one woman's opinion.

Onto David and Alissa, and are those cracks we're starting to see?

She needs a higher level of stimulation, apparently. He's just too cool. There are no fights, no drunken blow outs. But no, those aren't cracks. They're problems (potentially producer manufactured?) experienced by someone who swims in chaotic waters. Which raises an interesting point: when you're used to noise, peace can feel suspicious. But that doesn't make it wrong. 

Embrace the quiet, Alissa. It's nice here.

Bec and Danny, meanwhile, receive gold stars for their homework. Danny is proud of the way he avoided doing a "Usain Bolt" as he might in the real world, and instead "bit down on the gum shield" and fought his way through. Bec says she feels "stable". And it's nice to see them chill.

But should one partner be working quite so hard to maintain the other's equilibrium?

We finish with Tyson and Steph, who praises himself for taking Steph for dinner and lunch, buying her flowers, and paying for everything like a good provider. "I'm the gift that keeps giving," he says. Barf. 

She then admits she's been biting her tongue in order to keep the peace. The experts invite her to share, and Tyson is forced to answer for his homophobia. His defence is that he was raised traditionally. He doesn't want 'gay' lifestyles to be pushed onto him.

Sam points out that just being in the room with someone gay isn't pushing anything on anyone. "We're just here," he says. 

"It's hurtful to our community," says Chris.

"It doesn't make me feel like a person," adds Sam.

Tyson is confused. "Maybe it came out wrong?" he says. 

No, mate. It came out exactly how you meant it.

Sam explains that as long as suppression exists, increased awareness will always be necessary — and Tyson's attitude is a perfect example of why.

And yes to all of it. But, while they handle it with extraordinary grace, I hate that they're forced to educate him at all. It shouldn't be their responsibility to teach empathy to a grown man.

Please can someone just take Tyson away to Human School so he can learn this stuff from people who are paid for their time?

Tyson digs in. Steph pushes back, pointing out that his language, and his attitude toward women, is also a real problem. 

"I'm not gonna take that shit," snaps Tyson, fuming. Because how could he possibly be disrespectful of women when he's close with his sister and told Alessandra that she's beautiful?

The argument escalates. "I do not see a future with this person, John," says Tyson. "I'm going back to the Gold Coast, John." To hang out with Brook, presumably. "This is bullshit, John."

John asks what happened since the last Commitment Ceremony when he agreed to 'get curious'? 

"I can tell you," says Steph. "I opened my mouth."

She's not wrong. 

And with that, Tyson gets up and walks out of the room. Because he's a twat. Or as Steph decalres, he's an absolute "child".

The end. 

Join me next time for a world without the word "submissive", a world where Chris and Sam don't have to defend their right to exist in the room — a world where the couples head off for a jolly holiday. And a series of ridiculous, angry, tear-soaked brawls. FML.

Feature Image: Nine.