Caught in the Act
I've said it once. I'll say it again. Lifetime movies get no respect. When my friend Linda found out I was watching this for work, she said, "I can save you some time. She sets fire to him and she keeps the baby. You let me know if I'm wrong."
Well Linda, you're wrong. She — in this case it's a country-talking Lauren Holly — kicks her cheating husband's butt in divorce court, solves the murder of her friend Alice and starts her own private-eye business. How's that for a woman scorned? Of course, along the way she also says some of the corniest lines this side of the Mississippi. But I embrace their campiness and pray nothing ever makes me want to "cock a couple a shells in my shotgun and draw a bead on his buttonfly."
(Random confession: To check the spelling of Mississippi I literally just said out loud "em, eye, crooked-letter, crooked-letter, eye, crooked-letter, crooked-letter, eye, hump-back, hump-back, eye. Oh, the lessons of Good Times.)
Can I be Ephram when I grow up? Yeah, I know he's just a character, but that boy sure is a wise old soul. And, in this great season finale, he was the only one who behaved with clear-headed maturity. When Amy asked him not to go to Juilliard for the summer, this 16-year-old prepared a picnic for his soul mate and basically told her you're my girl but this is my future and I'm not going to blow it. You get that? A high-school boy picking books over the booty. What?! His brain-surgeon dad could stand to learn a thing or two from that. Because Andy knows he's wrong for asking Madison to keep the news of her pregnancy to herself — to protect Ephram. "If he hears this now," Doc. Brown said, "all that innocence is gone. It will be the end of a childhood that isn't finished yet." Whatever! If Ephram's old enough to lay down with his sister's babysitter then he's old enough to stand with her when their actions produce a baby. And, if he were a real person and not a TV character, he would agree with me on that.
A Wrinkle in Time
Speaking of Gregory Smith — a.k.a. old man Ephram — he did double duty tonight, starring in both Everwood and this Disney remake. You know what they say, we are our toughest competition. And tonight, for an hour at least, Gregory literally was.
The Breakfast Club
You know you're an overachieving child of the '80s if you were a brain, a beauty, a jock, a rebel and a recluse all rolled up into one. Also, you know you're a screwed up child of the '80s, if you — like me — own this movie on DVD and still pause to watch some of it when it reruns for, like, the thousandth time on AMC.
It's about time. After five years and 110 episodes, the professor finally realized he loved Nikki and asked her to marry him — thus putting this show out of its misery. Of course he waited until she was at the altar with a sexysomethingspecial. But, whatever. Like Kim sang, "At Last..." (BTW: Countess Vaughn, girl you sho sang that song. OK?)
The New KFC Commercials
This "Chicks for Chicken" campaign is crazy. And I don't mean that in a good way.
Morris Day Pimp Line of the Night: "Real players don't hate. We litigate."
A Local News Rant
"Could your child's candy be poisonous?" And I didn't make that up. That's a direct quote from the promo for tonight's local news. I don't have any children and still I want to watch to make sure they're not getting brain damage from Now & Laters. Stuff like this is a sure sign that the sweeps period is upon us once again. Man. I hate this time of the year, when all the promos are all life-and-death all the time. As if they cared about us viewers. If they did, reporters would do these supposed exposés all the time instead of just four times a year. Rat bastards!
Toni needs help. And I'm not just talking about the bad-hair days she's had for the last four episodes. (Don't act like you didn't notice those awful wigs.) If she puts Joan before her husband one more time... I'm going to leave her materialistic behind. I mean, how much more does she expect her doc man to take?
Two and a Half Men
Alan has misplaced anger issues. Been there — I think. I mean, is it wrong that I identified with Ducky when he went off because the delivery guy forgot the pancakes for his moo-shu chicken? "For once in my life I will get what was promised me!" he said. And I agree. I mean, think about it: We can control so few things in our lives. We should at least be able to get the food we pay for. Right?
On a totally different tip: the Prop of the Night award goes to... the bataka bat. Where can I get one of those? And why did Ducky, I mean Jon Cryer, look like he was expressing some real rage against Charlie Sheen? Oh, yeah. I saw the all-too-realistic way he was beating on his co-star. Shoot. It was like I could read his thoughts with every swing. "Week after week you get the best funny lines." (Wack!) "Even though they promised my character a makeover they keep me in these lame clothes." (Bam!) "I'll never work again after this show!" (Boom.)
I'm going to be glad when this show's over because it brings out the inner bitter beyaatch I like to deny exists. For real. When they introduced Sarina and Kelly, I thought I could not live in The Swan's Makeover Motel the same time as these two women. I know it's wrong. But hey, this is TV confession time. So I'm gong to let it roll. Sarina got a black man, even when she was a self-described ultimate plain Jane. Sure he ended up cheating on her, but... come on now. That's not fair. And 102-pound Kelly had to gain weight to complete her swan program. Get away from me.
This was the "No They Didn't" episode. As in... no they didn't resurrect the evil mayor from Buffy as zeee snotty chef Gunther! And no they didn't have Big Ed tap out "he's got two bombs" in Morse code on the blackjack table. ("Stop! Ed's sending a message," Danny said.) And no they didn't pay two grown ass people to write this episode. No. They. Didn't.
Five things about tonight's episode:
1. That poor girl woke up in a body bag, in a drawer, in the morgue. Talk about your worst nightmare! Of course she passed out. Shoot. I would have faded to black a second time when that crazy Dr. Alex "What'd-they-do-to-you-baby" Woods unzipped me.
2. Note to CSI scribes: The dueling MC's storyline is old. As in circa 1996. Please avoid that territory — even if it is the cover story for a white man's hit and run.
3. Question: Is that the mad rapper Xzibit from MTV's Pimp My Ride? I think it is...
4. It's official. Creepy Caruso now gets all the crazy-obvious, know-it-all one-liners. "That is brain matter," he said, pointing to a speck of white mush on the sports commentator's bumper. "What does that mean?" sports guy asks. [Cue Caruso hands-on-hips stern look.] "That means somebody is dead."
5. OK. I hate to say it. But this show's already becoming a parody of itself. They're going to have to step it up a notch when they spin off CSI: New York. Seriously.
The XM Radio Commercial
Forget commercial-free radio. I'm trying to get commercial-free cable. Remember those days — back before AMC had commercials and Romance Classics became WE? It was the time when basic-cable bills were about $20 and most of the channels didn't just rehash what was broadcast earlier in the week. Ah, glory days. Will we ever relive them?
Rocco's old and comically round professor gave him a Master's Knife. So freaking what. He should have given that boy some cojones. Seriously. 'Cause if Rocco graduated from culinary school in 1986, that means he's too damn old to be acting like a big crybaby when it comes to this multimillion-dollar establishment. If he wants to keep the place he needs to man up, quit whining to his girlfriend, quit hiding from Jeffrey, quit letting his mama do his work for him and run the yard. Plain and simple. Watching him wipe his eyes and lurk outside in the shadows... I'm losing respect for him! (Not that I had much to begin with.)