The Last Ride
Come back to The O.C., Chris Carmack, Chris Carmack! Ugh, how heartbreaking to see our beloved bad-boy-turned-misfit taking a backseat to a set of wheels in this GTO ad on 'roids disguised as a TV-movie. Desperately wanting to be The Fast and The Furious-ly campy, we instead get the slow and aggravatingly crappy with Dennis Hopper, looking like someone Liz Taylor would pick up in rehab, as an ex-con bent on clearing his name and Carmack as the gear-head grandson trying to reunite him with his classic getaway car. What follows is a super-unleaded mess of family drama, shameless plugs and overheated chase sequences, including one through an auto-show crowd that has too few mullets and too many teeth to even tickle plausibility. In fact, the only thing I'm buying here is that Hopper must need the money, Pontiac must need the sales and Coop needs to give Luke a call immediately. And I need to steer clear of oncoming car wrecks like this. Where's the remote?
60 Minutes II
So Jerry Bailey is "the best jockey" in horse racing? Well, bring it, little man. 'Cause it's all about Smarty Jones and the Belmont for this Philly boy. Sorry. Kudos on kicking the booze and keeping your girlish figure, though. Just slightly over 100 pounds? Nice. I was that at birth, dude. Do me a favor. If you do win this weekend, take some of the dough and get yourself a Whopper, OK? With cheese.
Why, M. Night, why?! That video of the alien attacking the kid's birthday party, the theme music, Mel Gibson's really furrowed brow. It's all so wrong! The worst thing is, I met Shyamalan once and he told me that he was "really proud" of this one. Well, I hope that helps him sleep at night. God knows I haven't been able to since this thing messed me up.
Oh, look. Drew's back! Never mind that none of us noticed that he was even gone in the first place or anything. It's nice to have some new stuff for summer, right? Ooooh, maybe not. From the looks of it, ABC was on to something, yanking the gang from its schedule last season. The fun stunts and the silly energy of the cast have all but evaporated, as have the ratings, apparently. Which explains why Drew's final season is all of a sudden being burned off during the summer, instead of getting a grand send-off like Friends and Frasier. Unfortunately, nobody torched this episode, which had Drew and Oswald fighting over some retiree they wanted to pimp out to their single moms. Guys, he may have been a catch, but Marion Ross and Adrienne Barbeau deserve a lot better than this. Click!
Damn, Sophie B. Hawkins. I wish I was your lover. Life in obscurity is treating you very well. Far better than Mr. Miller did after finding out you supported Ralph Nader. Jeesh. You'd think the guy would be a little more tolerant. After all, nobody holds that little Monday Night Football gig against him. Mostly because we've all tried so hard to block it out, but still.
Quick! Somebody call 911. Ben Stiller is career suicidal!
Oh, look. Drew's back. Again. And this time, he's teaching his nephew how to kick his opponents on the soccer field in the privates. What fun. Now I don't have to wait for America's Funniest Home Videos for the genital-abuse humor my life has so sorely been missing. Which frees me up to start praying for deliverance from the evil of a sitcom that's been brought back from the dead to fill airtime. And speaking of evil...
Ultimate Love Test
...may be proof that ABC has replaced ousted honcho Susan Lyne with the Devil himself. You know, the ultimate love test used to be "Honey, do these pants make me look fat?" Now, it seems to require getting nekkid in Cabo with some hooch while your other half watches from home. Classy. It's like Temptation Island with cheaper airfare. And cast members. Especially that Brandon. Yeah, he may be the finest loan officer on the planet, but did you see how he forgot all about Kenesha the second his crush Brooke showed up? Dag. And don't even get me started on Heather. Between that hat, her sorority-girl-gone-wrong chirp and reignited interest in C.R., you just know we're in for a lot of crying this summer. Hell, Heather may even shed a few tears, too.