- This is dumb. I don’t know why I’m writing about this three days later. I came back from a lovely weekend, wherein two people I like very much had a heartfelt, awesome wedding…and subjected myself to that crap on my DVR.
- I thought the scene where Rodney crept into Aaron’s office at, like, 10 p.m., and met up with Sam would’ve played much better as gay porn. The setup was there, the “friendly interaction” was just awkward enough, not to mention acted in a way that Amber Waves may have found a little stilted.
- I will, for the last time, roll my eyes at the way the whole “Lou vs. Sam” thing was handled, not to mention concluded. Watching Lou with Sean Preston Apple…I mean, honestly. Could they NOT find an actor to play Sam who could counteract the warm, steady presence Mantegna offers as a father figure? Not to mention the whole script’s effort to make it seem like Lou wasn’t a total bag of M-80s in the sack. Come on, y’all. You watched the same “Sam primly lectures Joan about how weak and human, yet TOTALLY better than everyone else” scene. Uck. If that guy lays like he talks, he maybe rates a tenative “good going, sport” smile in the post-game.
- The final Ponds placement was a humdinger. The only billboards that inspire me to sing and/or have a personal epiphany are usually fast-food related.
- I lied. I’m going to say it one more time: poor form, Starter Wife. Going with the Titanic parody at the beginning (nice pan flute, by the way…that was pretty hilarious. Oh, and Messing did a great dead-on Winslet weeping) and indicating that Sam was Molly’s Leo only made me want her to dunk him under a few times for good measure. Uh, then sex the cap’n’s hat right off Lou.
- I’m SO glad it’s over.