Last night's season finale of Entourage was surprisingly dark. For a show that has been accused over and over (and rightfully so) of having no soul, we got to see some actual consequences and ensuing emotions. And it was all fueled by a hefty helping of Bolivian nose candy. Take that booga shooga, Vince!
There seemed to be a lull there for a second where there wasn't anything to watch. Lost was over, Breaking Bad was over and you caught yourself actually having some one you were 'rooting for' on Dancing with the Stars. Thankfully a whole spatter of wonderful though less visual shows have started up again. And across the board it looks like it's going to be a surprisingly thoughtful summer.
First off, Hung is on point. After a meandering first season that showed incredible promise verging on obscurity, the show has come back with a renewed tenacity. A little more cock-suredness if I may use an overly appropriate aphorism. This second episode bringing to a head Ray Decker's furrow browed moral ponderings over sleeping with a pregnant chick. But the real treat is watching Ray's elfin pimp, Tanya accept the power that comes with the pimp hat. I predict it won't be long before she is bitch slapping left and right. She could certainly smack me.
I knew something was up with Entourage because everyone was mocking it on Twitter. But I fins myself again in the undesirable position of supporting this show. I agree with all the criticism that the show portrays characters vapid of any real human qualities. But those kind of people exist! And I find them fascinating!
So apparently Vince has recently grown a pair after a smudgey landing of the car jumping off ramp variety. This new ballsiness has resulted in a, wait for it... new haircut. OK, so Vince's attempts at personal change are about as weak as the writer's ability to maintain even the most basic of emotional story lines. But at least he cut his fucking hair! For a person with the mental depth of a bowl of cornflakes that alone is an accomplishment. Again, I know assholes like this. Sometimes I can be one myself.
Rescue Me is back and the twist this season: Tommy has been to hell. Sure Rescue Me, whatever you say. Rescue Me's convoluted mythology of exactly what happens after you die has remained extremely central considering they have been keeping it up for 7 seasons. I admit back in the beginning I thought it would go the way of the dropped gimmick ala the commercials in the first episode of Six Feet Under or Carrie talking into the camera every other fucking shot in Sex in the City. But they have held strong. It has worked at times and failed at others but it seems pretty tired now. That of course isn't what makes the show so watchable. It's the drinking. Tommy's drinking again! I think there's a whole generation of drinkers who are subconsciously deciding how many drinks per night based off a Tommy Gavin model. I have a theory that most major losses and wins in the Iraq war correspond inversely to times Tommy Gavin is on and off the wagon.
So at least there is some interesting stuff on. I need something to tide me over till Sons of Anarchy.
So Breaking Bad is back and I know you all must have been feeling that same gut wrenching anxiety about how they were going to justify a second season finale that wasn't so much a game changer as it was a genre changer.
Remember that? When two passenger jets collided over Albuquerque after you kept us staring at a pink bear for a whole season? Remember that little plot maneuver?
Suddenly the ghost in the machine is seeming a little too ominous for a scientific show. Are we saying things about good and evil? Science vs Religion? What's God got to do with Breaking Bad?
A lot of people seemed put off by the season 2 endsplosion. Not Soprano's cut-to-black put off, but not necessarily excited about the new dimension of biblicalesqueness to the show.
I'm on the fence about it. On the one hand it is a pretty big bump, tampering with the reality level of your show. Once planes start crashing for apparently divine reasons, your plots on a runaway train car to nowhere'sville and you spend your last few seasons just digging your hole deeper and deeper (see Lost). Next thing you know we're all in a matrix, time travel is possible, this is not a pipe etc.
On the other hand, maybe you can pull it off? The show's been pretty good so far...
OK, let's hear it. Who is God according to Breaking Bad?
Well apparently Heisenberg is God. Or at least he's getting his ass worshiped by gangsters, which even if he isn't God, is pretty dope.
This metaphorical throwing the plot hat over the deity fence definitely cranks up the metaphysical volume knob to 11.
A science teacher becomes a drug dealer,
who then becomes a murderer (on a couple of levels),
who then becomes a messiah to poor Mexicans and slightly gay looking yet extremely deadly gangsters!
It's a classic American story. Horatio Alger and shit.
You gotta like these two guys:
Hey.
What's up.
Let's get down in the dirt.
K.
Look how nice these suits are!
I know.
Our suits will never be the same.
I was slightly worried when the gangsters came up against this little girl and her goat.
Hey. Nice goat.
Stay the fuck away from my goat.
It's ok little girl. We just wanted your goat to have this car. It's a pretty cool car.
Who are these harbingers of doom? These men with gazes like hot marble slabs? So gentle to little girls and goats yet so deadly to innocent migrant workers. Who are these men who walk with fire and destruction literally licking at their feet?
They're Heisenberg's apostles.
In the end we are reminded that the messiah of the underworld has a different kind of apostle. The kind who will kill your ass if you stare at his shoes. Seriously. Eyes off the bright shiny skull shoes! NO LOOKING!
So Walt's future is heading out to him, on foot through a desert, but with a frightening level of resolve. Heisenberg is definitely alive and subconsciously kicking. The Chicken Guy, Gus, he's back in play. Oh and Jesse is some kind of existential bad ass who gets the crazy eye a little too easily now.
And to top it off you're getting divorced from these:
I'll tell you what.
Everybody Break Bad!
You can't light gasoline with a cigarette. This is hardly news at this point. I realize that things get busy around there, but open up a physics book buddies.
OK so after I wrote that first part I wanted to double check to see if I was right and it turns out you probably can light gasoline with a cigarette. But there is quite a discussion about it at this yahoo answer link. Very hot topic. Pun intended.
Even so, hack move. It's like you two both showed up wearing the same dress.
Oh and also... if I find out any time in the next two seasons that you were somehow responsible for my girlfriends vomitus death, I'm going to wait till you're playing at the end of the driveway and run over you with my truck. Just something I learned in rehab. No but seriously, I'll kill you.
I'm probably going to kill you.
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