Don't you just love to hate Emily Gilmore? She's got the sharp wit and magnetic presence of a true Gilmore Girl. Only she uses it to manipulate, offend and hurt everyone around her. First, she arrogantly assumes that her plan to reunite Lorelai and Luke didn't work because Lorelai didn't dutifully show up to the insufferable Friday-night dinner. Then she has the nerve to blame Luke, whom she oh-so-affectionately calls "that filthy diner owner." (So the guy doesn't like to shave. That makes him sexy, not dirty, 'kay?) And could she be more condescending? "Wasn't I clear enough? Did I need to set it to Sesame Street characters? Did I have to sing a song about it?" she screeches at poor Luke, in his diner no less. And if that weren't bad enough, Emily not only firmly believes she knows what's best for her 36-year-old-daughter (a woman who raised a teenager on her own, no less), she also feels it's her god-given right to interfere. Sigh. At least Lorelai is a better mother. (She must have studied hard at the school of Do-the-Exact-Opposite-of-Everything-My-Mother-Did.) So far, so good. She's right on schedule as she struggles to create new boundaries with an independent Rory. And she keeps her mouth shut at the appropriate times, even when she doesn't agree with Rory's new dating strategy. (Huge props to Rory, by the way. That whole let's-date-other-people thing got a jealous Logan eating out of the palm of her dainty little hand.) Emily, it's time you started taking some Lorelai notes. You might learn a thing or two. Robin Honig
All right, that's it. Enough with the judges urging each singer's fans to call in and vote. This isn't a popularity contest, people. It's a talent search. And quite honestly, you can search all ya want, some of the kids just don't have it. To quote Simon's favorite phrase, at this stage of the competition I should be heartbroken to see any of them get the boot. Instead, I'm ready to strap on the damn boot myself and start kicking. Oh, and while I'm ranting, that charm-bracelet monstrosity around Paula's neck? Yeah, about as fetching as a legless dog at a Frisbee tournament. OK, now that I have that out of my system, let's check out the ladies...
Amanda Avila: Simon says she may go this week. I say she finally made amends for the last few weeks with "River Deep, Mountain High," which actually reminds me more of Erasure than Tina Turner. But that's probably me.
Janay Castine: Pepito the Wonder Chihuahua getting a rectal sounds better than this one, who owes an apology to whatever song that was she mangled and to Aloha Mischeaux for stealing her spot. If she lasts another week, I'm going agnostic.
Carrie Underwood: Not bad, but still so far from the spitfire I fell for back during those endless auditions. Maybe it's these dreary country songs she keeps picking. And don't get me started on the metallic-breast blouse. Oops.
Vonzell Solomon: So that's how you get respect! Working some major vocals, she took on Aretha and took care of business. Now, someone get her a Mary J. Blige tune, pronto!
Nadia Turner: Amen! My girl kicked the Otis out of "Try a Little Tenderness" and resurrected my faith that we're looking at a winner. Like Simon said, amazing.
Lindsey Cardinale: I find it ironic that she tackled "Don't Wanna Miss a Thing," yet missed so many notes. Personally, I'm missing Steven Tyler. And that doesn't happen too much. Probably outta here within 24 hours.
Mikalah Gordon: Better singers have botched Barbra Streisand's version of "Somewhere," but few in such a painfully uncomfortable way. Why, Mikalah, why?! We might lose her before she gets a chance to really shine. And you know she can.
Jessica Sierra: The boys may be back in town, but Jess' girls were front and center. Almost distractingly so. Good thing her pipes were bursting too, because that robust voice is her ticket to the top four. Damian Holbrook
A trip to TJ must mean that Marissa's going to O.D. in an alleyway... oh, wait, wrong show. Besides Veronica and Co. have got more witty banter and throwaway lines in one episode than Seth Cohen can dish out in a whole season. All right, maybe that's a little exaggeration, but the this teen detective queen can surely dish it out. Plus, watching reruns only makes me feel smarter, as I am actually able to put together the pieces of the case before the end of the episode. And I notice more things, not that Iceman's twin brother is just totally bad boyfriend material I caught that the first time around but subtler little things, like Logan referencing Brigadoon. He's shockingly well-rounded, what with quotes from Eleanor Roosevelt on his cellie in a recent ep and musical theater? His mom may be dead, but she brought him up right. And what happened to Backup? I haven't seen that pup around in a while. I hope he's OK, 'cause if little Ms. Mars is gonna keep getting her heart trampled by sweet-faced fellas, then she's gonna need a little TLC from woman's best friend. Angel Cohn
The Amazing Race
Oh, Brian, dude. You and your brother squeaked by, but little did you know that Megan, who came in last place with her roommate, Heidi, had felt "a spark" during that 10-hour bus ride.
And now for the infamous "Boston" Rob:
1) How the hell did he deliver 180 books in just one trip while everyone else was struggling? Is he that good a stacker (he should put that on his resume under "skills," right next to "liar"), or were some of those books smaller since they had first dibs?
2) Yes, he's a cunning player, but slipping money to the security guard and bus driver (and keeping the extra five bucks) was a new low. Actually, that's not true; it was just a different low. Well, one good thing about team Survivor winning this leg was that we didn't have to see Rob's blank-eating grin for the last 25 minutes.
And as a, uh, "footnote," if you ever want your shoes shined, don't ask Susan to do it. Unless you want your socks shined, too. Danny Spiegel
TV demands some suspension of disbelief, I grant you. But c'mon, people you're really gonna give a gun to the blind guy, liability waiver or no liability waiver? How about a nice, safe Taser or something?
Tough day, huh? First the other cops in Det. Jim Dunbar's new precinct are all over him, then his wife nags him for shutting her out emotionally right after he gets home from work. What next, Hank the dog takes a chunk out of his leg? Now I understand you can't have good drama without conflict our hero needs obstacles, of course but they have to make him blind and have everyone in the new precinct all primed to hate him? I mean, what's the new lieutenant's beef with the blind? He sent a rookie out to get a stag film for the last precinct smoker and the kid came back with a copy of Daredevil? His last partner was bludgeoned to death with a vintage Mr. Magoo coin bank? What? (And no, I'm not mocking the disability; I'm mocking the storytelling.)
I'm as much of a Bochco fan as anyone. But I'm not seeing the man who brought us Hill Street Blues and NYPD Blue, unfortunately. I'm seeing the man who brought us Bay City Blues and Cop Rock. Michael Peck