To everyone who wrote in last week to tell me that Dina wasn't really dead: Sorry, dudes. But you did have me convinced (as did several TVG editors) that an off-screen murder on this show isn't really a murder at all. And just when you thought you knew what happened... we found out right away that Dina's dead body was found by CTU. So there goes that theory. Too bad, really, since we all wanted to see more of the fabulous Shohreh Aghdashloo. And her ultimate betrayal of CTU would've been a hell of a plot twist. But her death meant more of Behrooz, whom I find myself rooting for every time he lets loose with his explosive mix of fear and anger. Yeah, I know he's bad-guy offspring, but I'm kinda hoping he makes it out of this mess alive. (I wince every time I think about that tracking device. That had to hurt, especially when it was cut out of his neck. Ow.) Oh, and remember what I said about the sexual tension between Edgar and Chloe? Looks like that's a love/hate relationship, 'cause those two were ready to scratch each other's beady little eyes out. Edgar finally screwed up by ignoring that report. (But hey, the guy's had one crazy day: His mother died in a nuclear disaster, he shut down a dozen power plants before they went kablooey and he set up countless satellites... Something was gonna give.) But I'm wondering how CTU would've made the connection between the dead pilot and Marwan. More importantly, what is Anderson going to do with that fighter plane? We've been witnessing the prep for those plans over how many eps? They're promising a plot twist like no other. If you think you know what's about to go down, write and let me know. Robin Honig
Oh my. I'm... uh... what the... God have mercy. Honestly, I don't know what to say right now. This was appalling. And not in a "So bad, it was good" way. More like the "That didn't really just happen, right?" category. Or "The end is nigh" sort. Wow. Well, first, maybe we should all just take a moment of silence for the death of same-old, same-old reality as we know it. Because now that the seventh round of man-meets-man-eaters series is throwing the rules out the window, the ladies-in-wanting have done the same with their manners, integrity and, if you're poetry-spouting swimsuit model Kristine, sanity. What the hell? You love him? After 48 hours? Please, you nitwit. He's Charlie O'Connell. Not his more famous, cuter brother, Jerry, aiight? Charlie. Maybe you should be praying for yourself instead of having your "name written on his heart," whatever the hell that means. Seriously, I don't care how much more charming our good-time Charlie is than the other ungettable guys who have come before him and failed to find love, there is no need for anyone to give up the benefits of good breeding (and grooming) for a freakin' rose, OK, people?! I'm gonna need a Silkwood shower to delouse myself of the horror of both Kindle's inexplicable name and unrepentant theft of Carrie's seat on the first group date to shoot pool. Or the barely syllabic disservice to all models that will forever be known as Danushka. Now she's a damn shame. And that Krisily, with the body shots and sorority-girl rasp? Yeah, honey, you're not the bitch of the house you're the bitch of the year. There is so much to wrap my head around here, and to go over the sins, the slams and the Jerry Springer ugliness of the rose ceremony free-for-all would take all night. And unlike some of these embarrassments to their families, I refuse to bend over backward to fill any holes... on this page, ya gutterheads! But I will say my that roomie and I will be glued to the screen from here on out, rooting on single mom Kara and curvy real girl Kimberley while hoping that Chuckles gets exactly what he wants out of this. And a supply of Valtrex for anything he wasn't looking for. Damian J. Holbrook
Again with the dueling narratives. Sigh. Usually, I complain about how this show needlessly wanders away from the main plot. But this time, the subplot about Ariel's schoolgirl crush was by far the stronger one. Who really cares about a murderous ghost when you've just watched a woman getting worked over by a cop on the side of a highway? (In case you missed those "back door" references, he was about to sodomize her.) And that woman just happens to be the mother of Ariel's boyfriend, and the reason for Allison's bad vibes. I'm not quite sure why Allison thought she'd stick around after being confronted with the cop's murder. (Um, Allison's husband told her to gently broach the topic. That was hardly gentle.) And didn't your heart break when Ariel lost her friend and when Allison realized she has the power to hurt her own children? It not only humanized her, it made this medium pretty regular. — RH
A postpartum Leah Remini confides in her chums that she's getting "Kirstie Alley fat." The overheard comment sends the Cheers star into a tailspin, and asking her dreadful diet guru Quinn who munches on tissues for dinner for a fast new way to slim down. She suggests parasites, preferably a tapeworm. Thankfully, Blossom reappears at her door with a new scientific scheme to shed the unwanted weight invented by Dr. Sigmund von Oy, a subtle tribute to Mayim Bialik's old costar? Perhaps. (And thanks to the readers who told me about Joey "Whoa" Lawrence's current, um, career move.) The "doc" was played by the goofy Wallace Shawn, who came to her house to teach her and her faithful assistants about the Koi Effect. HE claims that people basically grow to fill the space that they are in. Inconceivable! But even though I know it's wacky, I found myself closing my eyes and attempting his doll-shoe visualization technique. My feet still seem the same size, but it was worth a shot.
And anytime I start to think that this show can't get any more insane, it goes one step further. Tonight a tiara-topped Kirstie lorded over a group of little people like Glinda from The Wizard of Oz in Munchkinland. Too bad she got stuck in the tiny house instead of having it drop on her. Because you know next week Quinn will tell her that the Flatten Yourself Like a Pancake diet is all the rage in Hollywood. Angel Cohn
It may be a rerun, but Two and a Half Men still had the glossary addition of the week: Hootenanny yum-yum. It's Alan's term for an out of this world weekend of debauchery and sexual activities. Plus Charlie's exercise routine sitting on the couch in sweats and drinking bourbon seems way more fun than anything Fat Actress' Quinn could come up with... Extreme Makeover: Home Edition: How'd They Do That? Despite the fact that this seems like a sneaky ploy to get audiences to cry on cue and watch ABC two nights in a row, the companion piece is actually the more entertaining show. More time is spent showing how Ty and his crew do sweat the small stuff and make these houses homes. That's worth getting misty-eyed about.
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