I am somewhat embarrassed that it wasn't until the last episode that I realized "Verna" is an anagram for "Raven."
10/10
All Gold
" He did you wrong
Freddie, you only
wanted to be loved
by him. You only
ever wanted his approval.
AND IT'S STILL NO
FCUKING EXCUSE"
Now That Was An Epic
Mike Drop.
How much of a bastard
have you got to be to
make the devil want to
personally get it's own
Hands dirty,
Holy Shit Fcuk.
This show is phenomenal
and this episode was
Amazing truly amazing.
(That was a unique
perspective to see it
from that angle).
And now the show Finale
Of
The Fall Of The
House Of Usher
The most satisfying death of them all. What a prick!
And Carla Gugino oozing that creepy charm... Yum!
She gave them all an out but not him. He crossed a line even she couldn't understand. The way he appeared to Roderick as a kid was proper twisted too!
I shudder to think what's going on in that basement!
Loved Elder Madeline and 'Verna' sitting face to face coming to terms. What powerhouses.
Frauderick, that covert psycho, was the worst of the lot, imo. He totally got his just deserts.
At this point Mike Flanagan is like 90% of the reason why I'm still subscribed to Netflix.
How did it take me six episodes to realize that Luke Skywalker is Captain Pike's lawyer?
(I knew who the actors were, I just didn't think about their nerd franchise relevance before.)
9/10
Superb
This episode was
absolutely #Lemon
and I loved every single
second of it,
Once again Flanagan is
knocking it out
the ball park.
The monologue by
Daddy Usher in this
Episode was Epic
it was the best and also
my favourite one to date.
I love how Raven gives
certain people a chance
to walk away before they
pass a certain
point/moment.
Once again another
phenomenal ending
and that smile right at
the end was awesome
it was so evil and naughty
and I loved it.
(I think me and Mike
need to have a serious talk
about the cats in his shows,
not cool Mike lol).
Another Stella episode
ready for the next.
Interesting is Verna often gives her victims a last chance out. Here she repeatedly tells Camille not to go in there.
So, I’m thinking at this point the seven deadly sins are a thing. Lust being Perry, envy being Camille.
"Fuck it, I got mine" was a great last line.
I broke down when his dad finally hugged him, shedding his own shame from the abuse in his past.
Don't agree with the comments here. This is how effed up you get after a rape. Deny, deflect, lie, confusion, hypersexuality, asexuality, shame, lies because of the shame... This is hitting everything and it's so true. I just want to say, please don't judge before you go through the same thing.
how the hell are we hearing AI's thought process? :D so producers are only picking the answer and typing that to chat? yeah im not buying this. cheapest twist.
[9.2/10] One of the problems I often have with The Original Series is tone. It’s the sort of show that will play some confrontation for high drama, only to immediately jump to something campy. Or, as in “The Changeling,” it’ll present a tense, lethal standoff with a seemingly unbeatable foe, only to have Kirk close the episode by making some lame joke that everybody laughs at right before he presumably has to go notified the families of his dead crewmen. There’s nothing wrong with blending tones in principle, but it can be tricky, and the sort of whiplash it creates has hurt many a Star Trek episode.
But “I, Mudd”, by contrast, knows exactly what tone it wants to have -- absurd delight -- and it makes the most of that animating spirit. While I’m not always on the same wavelength of this show when it comes to comedy, the humorous bent of this episode worked on me like gangbusters. I have seen cleverer Star Trek episodes; I have seen deeper Star Trek episodes; I have seen more affecting Star Trek episodes. But I don't think I've ever seen a Star Trek episode made out of more pure, broadly comic delight than "I, Mudd."
That begins with the title character. I had mixed feelings about Ol’ Harcourt in “Mudd’s Women,” but I loved him here. Roger C. Carmel digs into the role with relish, playing Mudd as an oily, outsized, living cartoon character. The way he preens, boasts, takes theatrical offense to Kirk’s insults, just makes him this broad but ebullient presence throughout the proceedings. There’s little doubt that Star Trek is going for big comedy here, but Mudd is a character who can withstand it, even channel it, to wonderful comic ends. It’s a shame that (I think) we won’t see him again until The Animated Series.
But as much fun as Mudd is in and of himself, his best material comes from his interactions with the rest of the crew, Kirk in particular. When Mudd relays how he escaped from his predicament after Rigel 12, his increasing, flabbergasted annoyance at Kirk calling him out on his self-aggrandizing euphemism is superb. The dynamic between the captain and the huckster is particularly well-written here, and it livens each moment the two men share the screen. Beyond that, his exchange with Spock over “selling fake patents to your mother” nicely blends Mudd’s over-the-top expressivism and the consistently great dry comedy of the Vulcan officer.
In the midst of all these great laughs and the superb character-based comedy, “I, Mudd” manages to include a pretty great little sci-fi story to boot. It’s not an especially novel one for Star Trek. We’ve done ancient robots before; we’ve done not being able to leave a planet before; and we’ve done defeat via logical paradox before. Still, there’s enough wrinkles to this one, Mudd included, to make the adventure down on the planet interesting.
Part of that comes from the androids’ “kill ‘em with kindness approach.” Star Trek goes full Asimov here, with the robots realizing that if their duty is to serve man, then the logical endpoint of that duty is to make sure that their guests can never leave so that the androids can make them as happy as possible. What makes that tack interesting is that in contrast to some of the other threats the crew of The Enterprise has faced, these robots are trying to tempt our heroes rather than cow them.
Uhura is offered indelible beauty and immortality (a prospect they raise against nicely as part of the later feint). Unexpected lothario Chekov (seriously, as much as Kirk’s reputation with alien ladies proceeds him, it’s Chekov who always seems to be macking on someone) is waited on by a pair of beautiful ladies with oblique hints that he can do with them what he will. Bone is amazed at the medical lab the robots have, and Scotty feels the same about their engineering shop. It’s not quite the same as “The Menagerie” or, god help me, “The Apple,” but Trek explores the conflict between paradise and freedom with commitment.
Still, it’s just as committed to making the loony most of the predicament presented. While the interconnected artificial beings (paging The Borg) feels like an excuse for a typical “we have to destroy the controlling hub!” solution, it’s the shape that solution takes that really elevates the episode. While the “short circuit the android with contradictions” is a cliché at this point, the way the crew does it -- by acting weird -- is utterly delightful.
To be frank, it feels like a Futurama solution (which is, I fully admit, putting the horse before the cart). It is easy to imagine the Planet Express crew facing a group of logic-bound androids and deciding the best way to make them explode is to be goofy and crazy, just as the Enterprise crew did here. And the way Kirk and company pull it off is delightful.
The manic joy in the eyes of the gang as Chekov and Uhura dance while Bones and Scotty play imaginary instruments and Kirk conducts is just perfect. Chekov being told to stay still and instead doing a little pirouette is amazing. Spock telling identical androids that he hates one and loves the other because of their similarities, or offering beatnik poetry about logic being a tweeting bird or a wreath of awful-smelling flowers has particular comic force coming from him. And the group’s pantomime of the explosives and other imagination game that prove to be too much for the robots show a comedic verve and commitment to silliness that really paid dividends.
In the midst of all this silliness, “I, Mudd” offers a trite but still well-observed take on humanity -- that as much as these artificial creatures may want to study us, there is an inherent, illogical contradiction baked into the human condition, whether in the form of enjoying captivity while wanting to be free, or loving and hating at once, or being able to be enmeshed in real danger while embracing the irreverence of the imagination, that is too much for any purely logical creature to understand.
Part of that contradiction is being able to take a television show committed to drama and danger, albeit a fairly campy one, and spend an episode that blends that sort of adventure with broadly comic goofball antics. Mudd being surrounded by a trio of copies of his scolding wife (who, in a nod to the casting director and costumers, looks like an appropriately severe woman) is the right ridiculous note to go out on. Star Trek doesn’t always get this silly or this comedically exaggerated, but when it does, it’s an absolute joy.
wtf did i just watch... 9/10
Everyone seems to want to compare Elementary to Sherlock. Why? They are two entirely different takes in a stream of disparate tv and movie takes that have been going on since Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce hit the screen in 1939. (Lord knows I've had an ongoing argument with my cousins about Jeremy Brett since 1984.) Bollocks! All of it. The fact is, Elementary has become a gem of its own distinct value. A wonderful example of the magic that happens when chemistry bubbles up between two actors/characters and is not limited to them but continues on to a cast that has since, on their own merit, earned their viewer's sincere appreciation for something rather rare: Stories with characters for whom we truly feel something. Well done Elementary. I hate to see the series end.
Oddly captivating, The White Lotus is like a car crash you can't stop staring at. It's not outright entertaining, but something about it is intriguing and gripping on a level I can't fully explain. Looking forward to see where they go with this, every characters backstory is fairly deep and fleshed out considering it's told exclusively through dramedy snippets.
[6.2/10] This is a weird episode, in that it combines this down to earth, very real emotional beats and real talk with unpleasant, broad, traditiona sitcom-level conflict.
Take the main story about Ben and Leslie helping out with Model U.N. There’s plenty of room for great comic stuff, like the pair dorking out in adorable fashion, April’s fascination with representing the moon, Andy trading militaries for lions, and April and Leslie’s high school-esque heart-to-heart. There’s also room for some good, real-feeling character stuff, with Ben feeling put on hold by Leslie, and Leslie feeling that Ben isn’t understanding enough of the position she’s in. That’s good stuff, and the heart in it almost carries the day.
But the Model U.N. war gets so bad and childish (which the show at least acknowledges) that it takes much of the punch out of the human element. It’s supposed to be “they get carried away and realizes how they’ve gone too far” bit, and it works to some degree, but the Model U.N. childishness is just too much, and cuts against the solid relationship material at the core.
The same definitely goes for Chris’s little pow-wow with Ann, Jerry, and Donna. Ann giving Chris “real talk” about how he needs to give his romantic partners space to be themselves and not overwhelm them is solid, and despite the broad elements of it, feels like a real conversation at times. But returning to the well of Jerry’s uncomfortableness, and the whole “focus group on my relationship” tack is strange and hurts the epiphany at the center of it.
Tom and Ron’s story works the best of the three in the episode, possibly because it’s the most straightforward, but even it is trying at times. Ron’s a noble guy, and his trying to let Tom save face and have his old job, alongside a cavalcade of hilariously underqualified candidates (including a young Kyle Mooney!) is a nice storyline. Tom pushing his nobility too far, until Ron basically manhandles him into accepting makes Tom look pretty awful (though I love Ron’s angry walk), but it’s still the most effective bit in the episode.
Overall, this is one of the more uneven episodes of Parks and Rec you’re likely to find, one that has many of the ingredients that make the show great, but which mixes them in with strange choices or unpleasant stuff that makes it a mishmash of good stuff and stuff that just feels off.
[8.2/10] What a blast this is. I’m impressed both at how well WandaVision is able to replicate the 1950s sitcom vibe, especially for supernatural-themed comedies like Bewitched mixed with The Dick van Dyke show, while also including a subtle but palpable sense of existential terror beneath the three camera confines of the show.
I really enjoy how this first episode plays on the classic sitcom tropes: a couple not remembering an important date on the calendar, a wacky neighbor, a boss coming over for dinner who needs to be impressed. The show does a nice spin on them, while also feeling true to the sitcoms it’s paying homage to. I’m particularly stunned by the cast, who are able to replicate that acting style, and the editors and other behind the scenes craftsmen, who are able to replicate the rhythm, to such perfection.
What’s neat is that the episode works pretty perfectly separate and apart from its larger MCU connections as a solid old school sitcom pastiche. There’s a lot of nice setup and payoffs of gags, like Wanda repurposing a magazine's “Ways to please your man” article to distract her husband’s boss and his wife, or Vision singing “Yakety Yak” after decrying it earlier. Even the lobster door knocker routine was a fun and comical grace note to an earlier bit. As cornball as it is, there’s something charming about this sort of thing, right down to the “What do we actually do here?” gag about the computer company. And despite the light spoofing at play, this works as a solid meat and potatoes sitcom episode.
But the show goes a step further and has real fun with the fact that its leads are a self-described witch and a magical mechanical man respectively. There’s tons of amusing gags, starting with the intro, about the pair using their powers in trifling 1950s household sorts of ways. At the same time, it does well with the jokes about hiding their true identities. Vision writing off Wanda’s behavior as “European”, Wanda reassuring her neighbor that her husband is human, and Vision taking offense when a coworker tells him he’s a “walking computer” are all entertaining bits that make the most of the weird premise.
And yet, what really elevates this episode is the unnerving hints that there’s something terribly wrong going on here. It’s not hard to guess that after the events of Endgame, there’s still concerns about what happened to vision. The show plays with the melodic rhythms of the sitcom form to suggest something off at the edges here, in a really sharp way.
For instance, there’s an interstitial commercial featuring a Stark toaster, and not only does it feature the only bit of color in the black and white presentation with the beeping light, but the toasting takes just a beat too long for comfort. Likewise, the fact that Wanda and Vision can’t remember their story or how they got married is initially played for laughs, but then it becomes creepy when Mrs. Hart demands answers.
The peak of this comes when Mr. Hart chokes on his broccoli and the artifice freezes for a moment, leaving everyone paralyzed by the departure from how things work in this sort of situation. It’s a great piece of work, of a piece with the likes of Twin Peaks and Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared in its quiet horror.
I’ll refrain from speculating about who’s watching the broadcast we see or who’s in the monitoring room we seem to have an eye on, but the hints at what's really going on, and how that influences the images the audience witnesses, creates a great organic mystery and another layer to the proceedings.
Overall, this is a boffo debut for the series, and I’m excited to watch more!
kirk and the girl was kinda creepy
With “The Naked Time” I am four episodes into Star Trek, and thus far every plot has followed a similar formula. The crew gets some kind of unexpected visitor, someone starts acting strange in a way that is initially puzzling but innocuous, and then it’s realized that the safety of the ship and the crew are threatened so Kirk and the rest of the senior staff try to figure out how to save it all. Sure, at high enough level of abstraction, any pair of stories can be made to sound the same, but I feel like there’s been a fair amount of the “someone on the ship starts acting funny, and everyone slowly but surely figures out what’s happening” blueprint that’s been followed in these first four installments.
And yet, this is very likely the best of them. Sure, there’s some silliness and very Sixties elements of this. The Irish officer devolving into Irish stereotypes is kind of odd, and as fun and bonkers as it is to see Sulu gallivanting about the ship brandishing a foil, it’s pretty silly stuff. And the entire way the biological agent makes it onto the ship, with a doomed redshirt taking off his glove on an alien planet, is kind of dumb. (Though there was something legitimately unnerving about his attempt at self-harm.)
To boot, Star Trek still has a problem in its early going of holding the audience’s hand through all of this (notice how much time it spends in the first infection scene to make sure we know who got infected and how). There’s an overexplain-y quality to the show, where even when there’s a mystery, it telegraphs everything that’s happening or expected to happen.
But by the same token, this is the first time the show has really delved into some meaningful pathos or even real tragedy for its main characters. The scene between Spock and Christine was far and away the best of the series so far, with Christine (who I didn’t realize was Majel Barrett!) making a surprisingly compelling plea and account of her affections for Spock. You buy her description of him, and in less than a minute, accept the two of them as a legitimate, root-worthy pairing.
For his part, Leonard Nimoy knocks it out of the park, both in terms of Spock’s shocked, tempted, but still reserved response to Christine’s advance, but also in his tortured private moments of trying to maintain his Vulcan detachment while the infection takes hold. Maybe it’s just the way Spock has been mythologized in the fifty years after the show debuted, but seeing his stoicism fall, seeing him emotional, almost unstable, and talking to no one in particular about the difficulty in caring about people and not being able to express it was absolutely tremendous. (And serves as a nice forerunner to a similar bit with Picard and Spock’s father in TNG). Nimoy doesn’t get to show off his acting chops as much as Spock, or at least doesn’t get to be as showy about it, given the constraints of his character, but when let off his leash like this, the results are outstanding.
William Shatner is…not quite as good of an actor. That’s no big deal necessarily – and his scene-chewing overwrought qualities have been well-documented elsewhere. But I still like his character as written here, and the sense that, as loose and occasionally cavalier as Kirk may seem, at least by reputation, there are parts of himself and impulses that he holds in reserves, and feels as trapped as he does entranced by his duties as captain. It’s an interesting shade of the character that gives some added dimension that I appreciated.
Of course, the episode ends with Bones finding a cure and getting everyone back in shape before things get too too terrible. The ticking clock of the orbited planet collapsing creates some easy but solid stakes for Scotty to get in and take control of the ship back. That said, the whole time dilation thing seems like a pretty weird throw-in that doesn’t seem to accomplish much, but whatever.
Overall, this is an episode that scores higher marks that its similarly-tuned predecessors for showing new sides and depths in its main characters, throwing in some goofy sci-fi fun, and a particularly great performance from Leonard Nimoy. There’s still some cheese that takes some getting used to for me as a viewer in 2016, but it’s a big step in the right direction.
Is just me or Che is a manipulative, selfish awful person?
These people are weird. What an awful show,
and yes, I'll watch next week as well.
7.2/10. Very interesting as an entree into The Original Series. It's funny coming to the series so late, after being so immersed in the other installments of the franchise and various parodies thereof, because I feel like I already know these characters, even as they're given a different tint by dint of seeing them in the garish hues of the Sixties original.
The episode itself feels like an embryonic version of It Follows, with the idea of a steady creepy horror that takes on the appearance of something you love or desire. The actor who plays Crewman Green in particular does a great job at conveying the unnerving nature of the creature. There's some heady stuff, particularly at the end, with the idea that Professor Crater and the creature had some form of symbiosis -- him helping it get the salt it needed to survive, and it helping him avoid the reality of the death of his wife. There's also some interesting moral philosophy at play about the idea of preserving the last of something ("like the buffalo" as the episode beats you over the episode.) And there's even a bit of that old chestnut trope that persistently shows up in zombie movies -- can you kill something that looks like a loved one but you know is dangerous? A lot of this is played out in pretty simple terms, but there's some deceptive complexity under the hood.
The pacing, though, nearly killed me. In some ways, that worked to help communicate the steady but unassuming horror of the creature, but man did it feel like the show was just filling time at various points, like discussing the plan to stun Prof. Crater, then setting up, then stunning him, etc. etc. etc. I was also surprised at how smug and kind of a dick Kirk is here. I know the character as having a certain amount of Bravado, but his friendship with Bones is one of those things that you just pick up through osmosis from years of watching and discussing the franchise, and as jocular as they are together, he's kind of a jerk to the good doctor at times.
There's other fun oddities here and there. The production design is really interesting, if only as an idea of what people in 1966 thought the future would be life. There's a certain Dr. Seuss quality to some of the sets, especially the botany lab. (The silly venus flytrap handpuppet lent to that sense.) Uhura hitting on Spock was an unexpected treat, even the tones of it feel a little dated and sexist now. And little details like the creature not being able to vamp on Spock because of his different physiology were nice too.
Overall, I can't say I was over the moon about my first real foray into the world of TOS, but I liked a lot of what it was doing, and I'm intrigued to see where the series goes from here.
How they got away with that final line, I don't know.
[PS. If you think this preached 'matriarchy', then you clearly didn't understand it.]
The meanest thing I could say about this movie is ‘Has extreme Don’t Worry Darling energy’.
I have never seen a movie more desperate to justify itself. It’s trapped in this endless neurosis over what it is- a blockbuster Barbie movie in 2023 by an acclaimed art house director that is fun but also deep but also earnest but also self aware but also but also but also. Every point it raises it brings up a counterpoint to before the audience can, every frame is trying to prove it’s not just product but art. It’s never just Barbie. It’s never confident or even comfortable in its skin. You cannot for a second be immersed in Barbie because it’s not a story so much as a visual dissertation without a central thesis, it’s a student film riffing on the big dogs hoping it’s underdog audacity will carry it but given a budget in the millions. It so desperately wants you to like it, to know it’s in on the joke too.
Everythng is an ouroboros here: an endless loop of argument and counterarguement feeding itself. Isn’t it shitty how the Mattel boardroom is full of men? Ah, but isn’t it cool how Mattel’s acknowledged it with this niche? And it’ll mythologize Barbie’s creator but uh don’t worry she did tax evasion we know that, now let her impart into Barbie the experience of all women. Barbie helps women, Barbie hurts women, Barbie is told to be everything so isn’t she just like women, but it is better to be a creator than the idea, and in the end, hasn’t Barbie helped all these women? Oh uh why is this blonde white Barbie the centerpiece of it all and helping not only her diverse Barbie friends but a Hispanic woman and her daughter? Don’t worry we’ll have the daughter call her a white savior! But don’t worry we’ll have the mom say she’s not! It’s fascinating to watch, honestly. It’s a film that wants to prove to you so so bad that it works but it doesn’t and it knows it doesn’t and it knows you knows. It’s Gerta Gerwig wrestling with taking this job for an hour and a half.
The cast is more than game and able. Margot Robbie is doing her damndest to find the heart and soul in this role, and there’s one scene with an old lady near the end of the first act/beginning of the second that actually works, for just a moment, more than any of the big third act soliloquies or montages with emotional ballads. And as someone who’s seen Blade Runner 2049 and Drive, this is the best Ryan Gosling performance I’ve seen. The man commits and delivers a surprisingly compelling and entertaining antagonist. The movie can’t quite reconcile what he’s done with his ending, or tie it into the themes- is Ken letting go of Barbie and the need to define himself for or against her symbolizing the need for men to do the same, and if so, why play it so lightly and sympathetically?- but that’s not his fault. And the supporting cast are entertaining, but you just can’t have big laughs with a movie that feels like it’s constantly checking in the corner of its eye after every joke to see if you’re laughing, grin stuck in place. It’s not as funny or as smart as it wants to be, and the sad thing is, it feels like it knows that too.
There is some great set design, cinematography, dazzling choreography, popping colors, and some fun high points. But I can’t imagine many kids liking it. And we’ve seen how conservatives have taken this movie. And anyone’s who’s progressed beyond the politics of. Well. A feminist blockbuster Barbie movie will find it cloying or condescending or just incredibly basic. It’s aimed at a very specific crowd who will buy what it’s saying, the liberals who see corporate feminism as progress, who agree that it’s just about a little change sometimes, who are ready for something just a little more complex than a SNL sketch. I don’t regret seeing it, because I was deeply engaged the whole time seeing it struggle at war with itself, in pain for its whole existence. It’s not a boring movie by any means. It wants to say everything before the audience can say it first. It’s the endpoint of The Lego Movie and Enchanted- the corporations interrogating and justifying themselves, and the cracks in this formula are too large to ignore. It wants to be so much, and the attempt is as darkly mesmerizing as a fly thinking it can somehow and someway metamorphize into a butterfly and suffocating and struggling in its makeshift cocoon, but this is one Barbie that fundamentally just cannot break out of its box.
I went for the laughs and left the movie theater with an existential crisis. I loved it <3
[8.4/10] Some cringey moments, but that’s one of the things the Greg Daniels-Michael Schur coaching tree does really well. I love the theme of this one, where everyone, in their own way, confronts what the end of the world would mean to them, and each character’s personality is reflected in their reaction.
First and foremost are the Zorpies though! It’s not deep (or, at best, it’s fodder for other parts of the show to be deep), but I love the quiet riff on Scientology and other local cults. The details like the founder being an office supply manager or their little wooden flutes or their smugness at paying for things with a check are delightful.
They also create a great setup for some good Ben and Leslie drama. Leslie is at her most exaggerated and dare I say, unpleasant, since Season 1. I don’t mean to say that I don’t enjoy her here, but she’s normally someone so easy to root for who tries so hard to be a good person. Here, she’s being selfish and unfair, and that’s entirely human and understandable, but also compromises her character a bit. It’s a good thing, and gives her reason to acknowledge it and make amends.
Her conversation with Ron, like most of her conversations with Ron, is fine fine material too. They have such a great dynamic. He tells her that no matter how much the epiphany that she’d want to spend the end of the world with Ben means to her; it won’t be ending, and she’ll be back where she started. It’s sobering, and it serves as motivation for Leslie to be an adult and apologize (albeit sneakily). I don’t know. I like extreme Leslie, who’s clearly in the wrong but going after what she wants (or scaring people off from what she can’t have) in her own loony way. It makes her as endearing as all the preternaturally capable things she accomplishes do.
Tom and Jean Ralphio face the end of the world by, true to form, throwing the perfect party. The party is such a great reflection of the trendy pair’s unrestrained ids at play. The over-the-top cartoonish and uber-stylish vibe of everything is a great reflection of their sensibility, straddling the line between ridiculous and just believable enough to seem plausible. Bringing back Lucy to give it a little emotional punch is nice, and Tom and his buddy losing, but trying to make the best of it is very endearing as well.
Even Chris and Ann, who are mostly a sideshow here, have their moments. Chris contemplating the Reasonabilist philosophy, and Ann cutting through it with her homespun wisdom, which naturally leads them to the party, is a pleasant bit. And Ron taking advantage of the Zorp cult to sell his wooden flutes and recorders is plenty funny, especially when they’re hailing Zorp and he’s just counting dollars.
The most affecting story, though, is probably Andy and April’s. The pair trying to do everything on Andy’s bucket list is as adorable as you’d expect, and fits their creative, impulsive, “don’t think, just stupid” philosophy. Maybe it’s just the indie rock soundtrack, but their spur of the moment trip to see the Grand Canyon is touching in just the right way. It’s not cloying, but April admitting that she wants to be annoyed by it and is coming up empty sells the moment (along with Andy wondering where Mt. Rushmore is).
Overall, if the world were ending, I don’t know if I’d be watching Parks and Recreation, but it’s still a nice set of stories about people spending a night thinking about where they’d want to be, and who they’d want to be with, if there were no tomorrow.
[5.9/10] Suffice it to say, not my favorite episode of the show. Tom just acts like too much of a jerk to be redeemed in the last two minutes. I get the vulnerability he’s supposed to be showing after his grand business idea fails, but it still just rubs me the wrong way how he pulls the rug out from under Leslie like that. It’s Tom at his most selfish and annoying, and it’s not the sort of thing you can just sweep under the rug.
It’s not like he crosses any major moral event horizons or anything, and Leslie’s mild drowning of him is amusing enough as a bit of revenge (not to mention her great “butthead” line), but it’s just one of the more unpleasant stories the show has done, and it doesn’t really recover enough goodwill in the end to make up for it, even if Leslie’s confidence that Tom won’t fail again is encouraging and Tom’s video biography of Leslie is sweet.
The rest of the episode is solid enough. My favorite of the other stories is Ron and Ann’s. Ron derives such joy from fixing things, and him sharing that with Ann, who takes to it with her usual enthusiasm, creates a small but heartwarming bond between the two of them. Ann is particularly funny with how into it she gets.
My least favorite story is Chris and Jerry’s. Maybe I’m just supposed to find Chris feeling uncomfortable about seeing his daughter in the throes of passion funnier than I do, but it’s continued to be a dud for me. Rob Lowe’s still doing good work as the endlessly positive Chris, but I just don’t love where they’re going with it.
Somewhere in the middle is the Ben/Andy/April storyline. When Andy and April throw a party and don’t tell Ben, it brings out their different methods of conflict resolution. That’s a decent enough storyline, and each of them having to figure out a method of resolving their beefs that works for everyone, particularly Ben having to overcome his passive aggressive hints at things, is a solid notion. The comedy just doesn’t follow like it needs to an the resolution is a bit underwhelming.
Overall, it’s still P&R so there’s still a decent number of laughs and some good character moments, but the show can do better.
This is a frustrating episode. Tom is a complete jackass, and the redemption at the end is not enough to make up for it. It's made worse by the fact that his business failing is completely his fault - as evidenced earlier in the season when they laughed off Ben's help.
The Ben/Andy story is even more frustrating to me, because I very much identify with Ben in this instance. I've been on the receiving end of similar kinds of roommate inconsiderateness, and it's not fun to deal with. Neither Andy nor April apologize for what they did - instead, the show focuses on getting Ben to open up. Which may be a problem, but I completely disagree that it's the main problem in this particular situation. Andy and April should learn to be more considerate.
But, it's a comedy show, and I am over-analyzing things that are being played for laughs.
