E: It’s about to be June, and the summer blockbusters are getting even more tempting. Only one or two movies per weekend, but they’re all big ones. Lots of franchise pieces, sure, but exciting ones. Who else is psyched? I know I am!
X-Men: First Class
E: James McAvoy. Jennifer Lawrence. Michael Fassbender. Charles Xavier when he can walk. Need I say more?
E: Here we are, another season ended. Who knew that was a pop song? All Grey’s episode titles are all pop songs, and at this point, there are a lot I haven’t heard of. Granted, there’s White Wedding and I Will Survive, but then there’s also Unaccompanied Minor. Okay.
Like last week, I was pretty pleased with this episode. It wasn’t a horrific weepfest like last year, but I did cry, for the first time in a long time, and that’s something I expect of Grey’s. The ratio of personal drama to medical cases was let’s just say , unusual for Grey’s. I don’t think we even saw a surgery take place, and only had two or maybe three actual patients. But for all that, it was good show.
E: The second season of our favorite show closes with an episode just as steamy as the one which began it. Oh, Good Wife. You’re pretty sparing with the sex, but when you decide to have it, boy do you decide.
Besides rather a lot of sex, we got a pretty fun case this week, from quite an unusual angle. Always challenging themselves, the Kings, to come up with new bits of the legal process to fascinate us. And so we begin, at the ending of one thing, at the beginning of another, in a peculiar limbo, our moorings loosed, fully adrift.
E: You know what? I thought this was a pretty good episode. Crazy gory surgery, interesting problems, and some deeply crazy interpersonal drama. I liked it. They made the much advertised betrayal plausible.
E: I just know my brother is going to complain about this week’s recap. Let’s just say that our searches – the searches people use to find this site – are going to be filled with more colorful language than usual. But oh well. Take a grown up show, add Sarah Silverman, and voila! A post full of nasty search terms.
And pain. Did I mention pain? There were buckets and even boatloads of pain, in addition to a few less obvious emotions.
Also, is it hideously crass of me to observe that Maria Shriver left her (allegedly) philandering politician husband the week Alicia left hers? The timing is kind of fascinating.