Amy Robach and T.J. Holmes’ Podcast About Their Hot Love Affair Is Already Running Out of Steam

The Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton of midday TV created for audiences in the back of taxi cabs have made their grand re-entrance into society, not through our eyes but rather our ears (and needless to say our hearts). Last week, Amy Robach and T.J. Holmes launched their podcast, Amy & T.J, a year to the day they were told to pack their bags and take an indefinite hiatus from their jobs as co-anchors of GMA3 after their affair was revealed.

Now that they’re no longer confined by the Puritan values of daytime TV (on ABC nonetheless), and considering they’ve had an entire year to conceive of and craft their rehabilitated image, I had higher expectations. I did not know who either of these people were before November 30th, 2022 and their tryst captivated me along with a nation raised by the ethos “love wins” and/or “don’t let your husband stop you from finding the love of your life.” Surely this new podcast would capitalize off of that momentum, or discuss the stigmas of workplace relationships, or talk about the joys and pitfalls of blending families. It has done none of that. Maybe it will get there but the first two episodes have been laughably dull exercises in self mythologizing.

The first episode was about as titillating as the name of the series: Amy & T.J—and saying those two names out loud conveys the same level of erotic intrigue as two people randomly paired to complete a class project together. This week’s episode was just a recap of Robach and Holmes’ week after they premiered the podcast on December 5th—which included a dinner with Robach’s parents that Holmes managed to write off as a business expense (okay…), what Holmes’ daughter wore to iHeartRadio’s Jingle Ball (he couldn’t remember the designer), and a wedding they attended where the tabloids erroneously reported that they were dirty dancing. “You and I know, and everyone at the wedding knows, you didn’t even get on the dance floor,” Robach teases Holmes. “The idea that we were…dirty dancing at a wedding reception where the band and the genre of music was yacht rock…,” Holmes incredulously adds to uproarious laughter.

“Incredulous” is the best way to describe Robach and Holmes’ entire approach to their infamous rise in the tabloids and frankly, it gets stale fast. They’re adamant that when their relationship was “outed, not caught” they were already separated from their respective partners. I’m along for the ride and have no way to prove them wrong, so I’ll humor them in this instance. But by debunking the myth at the base of their entire appeal, they’re cutting their noses to spite their very beautiful faces. “We are laughing, we are cracking up,” Holmes says about the headlines. Dare I say he protests too much?

At one point in this week’s episode, Holmes alludes to the bombshell news that dropped the day of their premiere—that Holmes’ and Robach’s exes, Marilee Feibig and Andrew Shue are reportedly dating. “There were other headlines this week with…agendas,” he says before emphasizing that their podcast is “not going to be about gossip, this is not gonna be a place where we clapback at headlines.” Of course, the entire premise of the series so far has been a clapback at headlines, which leads us once again to wonder what the hell this podcast is going to be about or even what these two think it’s going to be about.

My favorite recurring segment, if you can call it that, is when Robach and Holmes just list off names of people who’ve supported them post-scandal with very general platitudes about showing up for people in your life. “My cousin Shardae in Nashville,” “my good friend J.J. in Little Rock,” “Betsy as well, in Arkansas,” Holmes said as he rattled off names of people who called him after the first episode. He then instructed the listener to “pick up that damn phone and you reach out to the person you’ve been putting off reaching out to.” Robach added “It’s just one line… ‘you don’t have to respond… just know I am thinking of you.’” My brain numbs out listening to it, similar to when people discuss a movie you have no interest in seeing but are careful to not spoil any details of it. “I do not care,” I’m tempted to utter in both scenarios.

Both episodes have ended incredibly abruptly with no formal outro or conclusion. This week’s episode cut from Robach tearily eulogizing her late friend to funky muzak you’d hear on a late night local TV commercial for a regional shopping mall. Then, in both episodes, the music faded into a concluding ad break, which maybe points to exactly what this whole thing is about: recouping lost funds.

The buildup to this launch was a year’s long silence, ample time to prepare, and a cheeky Instagram post promising that “tea” would be served–yet their podcast is about as surface level as a morning show segment. In the inaugural episode, Holmes jokes that they almost titled the podcast “Scandal-less” to underline just how normal, decent, and good their relationship is. While a part of me wants to “Sure, Jan” the timeline of their love affair, this series is certainly setting up a narrative about as enticing as whatever the opposite of a scandal is. Call me when Marilee and Andrew start their podcast. I’m desperate for the goss Amy & TJ are denying us.