Has Antwane Been Tricked By A Phony Tony?

The Client

Antwane, a casually employed babysitter/hairdresser in Cincinnati.

The Beloved

Tony, a construction worker, supposedly in Atlanta.

The Clues

In the three years since Tony and Antwane first met on a chat line (remember those?), Antwane and Tony have never met and Tony has never made any effort to come to Cincinnati. Not only have Antwane and Tony never videochatted, but Antwane has never even seen a single photo of Tony. They only speak when Tony calls Antwane. And even though the very first call from Tony came from the (local) 513 area code, every call since then has been from a private number. Also? Antwane doesn't know Tony's last name.

The Excuses

Antwane has no truck with computers at all. Tony couldn't have texted a photo of himself to Antwane because, as Antwane puts it, he has an "Obama phone," and it doesn't do anything that fancy. Antwane doesn't think it's weird that Tony's never given Antwane his number, because he's a construction worker. Well, sure, we all know how that goes. Construction workers are basically the same as Navy SEALs. (?)

The Investigation

Literally all Max and Nev have to go on is Tony's first name; the sound of his voice in the one voicemail he's ever left Antwane; and that first 513 number he called from, which Antwane memorized. As Max notes, nothing about this situation has anything to do with the internet at all: "Essentially, this whole episode could have taken place in 1990." It's true, but it's partly because Antwane is a low-income individual for whom computers and smartphones are apparently luxuries he can't afford. As they preface what passes for the investigation this time, Max and Nev talk to each other in this amused way that I hope is due to the fact that a producer told them to reset the story and they feel silly doing it, and not because Antwane and his dumb hick problems are so hilarious. (I mean, Antwane can be poor and dumb, and clearly is. I'm just saying, depending on how you take their manner in this moment, they seem extra-condescending.)

SO. They Spokeo Tony's initial 513 number, and there is zero information associated: no name or sex. "Investigation's over!" "jokes" Max. But Max decides to Google the number, and finds it's registered to a Diana Thomas, in Cincinnati, with a Cincinnati address attached. So then they Spokeo this Diana and find two associated relatives, including someone named Anthony Thomas, and a different address for this dude. Then they Google "anthony thomas cincinnati" and the first result is a mug shot of someone by that name who was arrested in 2011 (around the time Antwane started talking to his Tony). No one's going to point out how generic a name "Anthony Thomas" is, and that there could be lots of law-abiding Anthonies Thomas in Cincinnati? I have to? Okay. Anyway, Nev and Max decide this mug shot guy is Antwane's Tony, and then they discover that if an inmate places a call from a big prison, it's via VOIP and thus the number will show as a private number. "It's not ridiculous to think that Anthony's in a minimum-security prison," says Nev. Look, if we were talking about Antonius Q. Pantsmorgan: sure. But there are at least twenty-five other people named Anthony Thomas with listed numbers in Cincinnati. Please calm down.

The Presentation Of Findings

Max and Nev hook back up with Antwane and Carmen, his cousin, who is actually the person who contacted the production because she was concerned about Antwane. In response to the big mug shot reveal, Antwane says he's ready to give up and change his number, because he's scared: "I'm just going to leave it alone. I'm not 'bout to even going to stress myself out. I'm not about to do it." Seeing that they're about to lose Antwane (and the episode), Nev backpedals that this is just all they've been able to find out with their extremely limited investigatory abilities (I'm paraphrasing), and that Antwane probably just needs to meet Tony. Didn't he JUST SAY he didn't want to? Because I'm pretty sure that's what I heard -- several times, so I could transcribe it. Nev agrees that Antwane needs to meet Tony: "So you can really move on. For yourself."

I have to give it to Nev: he is a closer. A shitty, shitty closer.

The Confrontation

Now the two idiots have to drive Antwane and Carmen around Cincinnati, looking at the three addresses they have for people who might be Tony or know who Tony is. The first building doesn't even have any names on the door, and no one there admits to being Tony or Diana. There's a Diana Thomas at the second place, but she doesn't know any Anthony. Finally, they end up at a place that's not just boarded up but condemned. And that's it. "No more addresses?" Carmen asks. No more. Max suggests that they get back in the car, because it's cold out, and Carmen whines, "I don't want to get back in the car. I want to find him." Not even Antwane seems like he wants to find Tony anymore, if you ask me.

And then Carmen calls out to Antwane and announces, "The reason why you fucking stupid idiot could never find who Tony is -- because I'm Tony." OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIT.

Antwane apparently immediately knows it's true, because he doesn't question the veracity of this declaration at all: he just asks Carmen why she did it. And it's not like she didn't have a good reason!

Antwane tells Carmen she should never speak to him again. Well, she got her revenge, and he was humiliated. But he learned a tough lesson about being too credulous with people on chat lines, and now the matter is settled and the story is over.

Just kidding! Now it's time for Nev and Max to get reeeeeeeeal fucking indignant. There is nothing these fools hate more than being taken in by a remorseless con artist who reminds the audience not just of how dumb they are in general but how bad they are at their supposed job. But they can't say they're mad at having been tricked just as bad as Antwane was -- actually, worse, because Antwane's gullibility wasn't captured for television UNTIL MAX AND NEV CAME ALONG -- so they have to get all offended that Carmen would take advantage of their goodwill and earnest belief in the basic goodness of people. After she explains how she pulled it off -- she lowered her voice a little, and called Antwane telling him that they'd spoken on the chat line when, in fact, there never was a Tony, but Antwane figured there probably had been at some point -- Max is like, you used us: "That's just lame." Nev having secured Antwane in a car, he joins Max to express his disappointment at her behaviour. Carmen doesn't even let them say she used them to get on TV: "I could have been on any show. I really could." Max turns to Nev and sarcastically repeats what she just said, paraphrasing, "But she used us to bestow her genius." This is not a great colour on you, Toy Camera. Anyway, Carmen doesn't give a shit: "There was a house full of people when he did me, you know, so there's a world full of people when I did him." She further explains, "The whole purpose of a catfish is to make the person believe and trust in the person that they think they are." "GENERALLY, IT'S TO FALL IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE," sniffs Max, in the highest of dudgeon, to which, may I just say, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. It's that maybe 8% of the time, with the other 92 made up of revenge, grifting, performance art born from boredom, and punching above your weight, lookswise. But nice try, Max, you clown. "Generally, it's to fall in love with someone." LIKE WE HAVEN'T BEEN WATCHING.

"I'm so glad you got to be on TV, and everyone's going to love you because you're the queen of catfish," Nev imperiously tells Carmen as he stomps off. He thinks that stings. It really doesn't.

The Post-Confrontation Confrontation

There kind of isn't one. Antwane is still so furious that he refuses even to let Max and Nev into his apartment. So they go over to Carmen's, with Max pontificating, on the way, about how some unfortunate people think there's no difference between fame and infamy. TELL US ANOTHER ONE FROM YOUR TREASURY OF GREAT MORAL STORIES, FORMER SECRETARY OF EDUCATION WILLIAM BENNETT. "And I think that on our show, someone like Carmen is grabbing at that kind of fame," he adds. Seems like you could have always just not aired this episode and thus denied her this vehicle for glorifying her crimes? But since you have, and are boosting your own "kind of fame" by telling her story with plenty of judgmental asides, maybe you can put your high horse back in the stable? You can hang your toy camera around its neck. That's what the strap is for.

Everyone troops into Carmen's place, where Carmen lays out her worldview: she catfishes people; she's fine with it; they don't have to be, but she doesn't care. "Why are you going to waste your breath saying anything to me anymore?" I mean...she's right? Look, I'm not on her side -- she did something really shitty -- and yet, she may have a career as a media critic. The ease with which she interrogates Max and Nev and their superior attitude and hypocrisy is kind of a pleasure to watch. They're just so pompous; you know they deserve it!

Almost immediately, Nev stops talking about what Carmen did to Antwane and makes it an assault on Carmen for what she did to Nev: "Did I want to feel like shit?" "You already shit, you ain't shit!" she shoots back. "Your argument is 'You ain't shit, you already shit,'" Nev clarifies. And that's when a producer decides that Nev and Max are being so hostile that he has to take them out and scold them. (His main objection seems to be that Nev is repeating Carmen's dialect back to her, and since she's black and Nev's not, it's not really okay. "Don't do impressions of other races." - Angie Jordan.) "I don't feel like she deserves the couch time," whines Nev. This segment has a name? And it's "COUCH TIME"?! Shut up, Nev.

A chastened Nev returns and apologizes (not very sincerely), but says it's because he felt manipulated. I guess I appreciate that he doesn't pretend he was offended on Antwane's behalf -- not that we would have believed it, but still, it's a gambit he could have tried. He asks whether she's considered that she might be a compulsive liar. "I know I'm a compulsive liar," Carmen cheerfully replies.

Ooooooooooh. Yikes.

MOVING ON: Max points out that if Carmen's aim was to get on TV for the sake of fame, now she's going to be a little bit famous, for a short time, for doing something crappy. And then they get the Catfish money shot as she confesses that she did it all because she's angry -- in general, not just at getting called fat. Does she want to be close with Antwane again? She does. But, Max asks, has she considered that if she overestimated Antwane's ability to forgive her, then she's lost herself her best friend? Sad music is meant to make us think she has regrets. I doubt it.

Hugs?

There are hugs.

The Post-Confrontation-Confrontation Conversation

Max and Nev convince Antwane to come out to their motel bar with them. He is still furious. Nev apologizes for the part he played in Antwane's humiliation. Antwane repeats that he's never speaking to Carmen again. But he's happy (in a way) to have the Tony illusion shattered so he can move on with his life. Nev: "Don't take this experience as a setback. Think of it as a push forward." Oh, Nev, you glorious moron. I can't wait to read your book.

...Hugs?

"I thank y'all, though," Antwane finally allows. But there are no hugs.

The Aftermath

One month later: Nev and Max join Antwane for his first-ever videochat. Antwane is employed as a janitor. He still hasn't spoken to Carmen. He's stayed off chat lines. Carmen claims she hasn't catfished anyone since the incident, so I'm sure it's true. Carmen has dyed her hair red and has been working out three times a week for almost a month. She's tried to call Antwane shortly after the taping, but has given up since then: "I haven't even thought about him." Max and Nev seem surprised by this; I'm not sure why, since she is clearly a sociopath.

The Life Lessons Learned

Don't give out your phone number on chat lines. I guess get off Spokeo, if for no other reason than to keep Max and Nev from showing up at your door looking for someone else with a related name. Don't stay in a relationship with someone whose surname you don't know for longer than...I'm going to say a day? Don't catfish people, but if you feel you have to, apparently it's okay if it's to fall in love. Above all: don't EVER liken your cousin to a fat-ass Kelly Price.