Tom Charman

Dammit! Season finales are so good sometimes, and so unimaginably crap other times. Despite quite enjoying elements of Alias‘s season three, this pathetic excuse for a finale is a bit more Chosen than ‘Becoming’, if I can use a Buffy analogy. There’s spoilers below. Naturally. But they might improve your enjoyment of the episode if you’ve not seen it.

I would say — though this is by no means a hard-and-fast rule, that a good season finale answers a few questions from its preceding season, and then raises a few more. ‘Resurrection’ does none of the first and makes only a very lame attempt at the second.

A quick summary. Vaughn, having been both betrayed and tortured by his wife/covenant spy Lauren, is out for bloody vengeance. This makes for the best scenes of the episode — his violent ambush of the conniving so-and-so is played just short of over the top by Michael Vartan. “Hi Honey!” Meanwhile, of course, Sydney is worrying that his violent, Jack Bristow assisted quest is going to be rather bad for his mental well-being. Luckily for her, Vaughn himself gets ambushed, and later finds a much less morally ambiguous opportunity to kill Lauren. How convenient.

The final showdown is in the position determined in previous episodes to be the big, final site of Rimbaldi’s reincarnatey message. Except, as it turns out, they’ve all got it wrong, because Sydney’s sister Nadia lied. Which makes a bit of sense, so I was fine with it — until I realised that they were going to use it as an excuse not to pay up. Expecting some crazy revelations from Rimbaldi? Something crazy and worldshaking to lead into the next season? Nope.

But that seemed alright, because a new and almost as tantalising plotline was dangled before us. Lauren hints at some new, underlying truth behind Sydney’s missing two years. There’s an unexpected betrayal. Jack seems a bit shiftier than normal…

But I’m afraid we’re only treated to a virtual twist. It’s not really there. I feel quite comfortable speaking about the last two minutes of the episode, because they don’t tell you a damn thing! There’s some old secret, written on paper that we see Sydney reading and getting progressively upset about. Jack walks in, looking as ambiguous as ever, and tells her she wasn’t supposed to find out… And then, we go to black.

This, people, is NOT a cliffhanger. It’s the sign leading to the cliff. It’s the mountaineering store where you buy your safety gear on the way to the cliff. After having whole seasons full of cliffhangers, you’d think JJ Abrams would know this. Luckily, there’s always season four to redeem themselves with. But shows so rarely get better in their fourth season…

Interestingly, a look at a summary of the plot at Alias TV.com seems to reveal a lot more about the documents Sydney’s reading. I’d swear that we didn’t get to see all that. Perhaps I’m going mad. Feel free to flame me if I am.

Oh, and one more thing. Isabella Rosellini is in no way attractive. In fact, she looks like a bloke. She’s no replacement for the age-defyingly hot Lena Olin. Don’t anyone over there stop trying Lena’s phone number.

Some writers on Angel have a more distinctive style than others. The vast majority, perhaps naturally, seem to attempt to emulate Joss Whedon’s style. In any given season, perhaps half the stories feel like such attempts — which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But out of the general gloom and irritation of last season came two writers who had very strong individuality. One is Ben Endlund, of The Tick fame. The other is Steven DeKnight, who came from writing some pretty average Buffy stories and found his niche in the more dark, action-based and crazy plotlines on the superior sister-series. And, his girlfriend, apparently. Some people have all the luck.

DeKnight’s best episode (both writing and directing) last year was probably Inside Out — an essentially exposition based episode which explained to us all the horrible things that had happened to Cordelia, and why. While it’s almost certain that these reasons weren’t worth enduring episode after episode of evil-Cordy and stupid-Connor, I found it impressive at the time that the episode had actually managed to be kind of cool, with some really impressive action as well. This time round, DeKnight’s story is in the middle of a bunch of impressive episodes, and without the dead weight of lame plot devices hanging it down, it’s fantastic.

Shells is the continuation of Joss Whedon’s A Hole in the World, and differs noticeably from that story. While Whedon’s episode had his trademark mix of lightness and weight, made up of personal moments and beautiful set-pieces, DeKnight’s story feels like a comic book on TV. There’s a distinctly upped action quota, lots of intense close-ups… and, ok, a few kinda dull speeches. But hey! I watched the whole of Buffy‘s season seven — I can take a few lame speeches. The worst offender is Spike, and in truth it feels like he’s reading one of Buffy’s old scripts from that very season. “There’s a fight coming Angel, and things’ll get bad, and rough, and we writers can’t be bothered actually foreshadowing so I’m just gonna come right out and say it.”

In short — a trademark fast-paced episode, with unfortunate but rare lameness.

Oh, and Fred’s not coming back. No really, they were very insistent, there’ll be none of this ‘coming back’ malarkey. Notice how they said it many times, with much authority? These are people who know how they can be burned by fan speculation and incorrect expectations.

I read a review of Spider-Man 2 today. Interestingly, at no point was the word “corny” used. Or “cheesy”. Or “hokey”. Not once.

So let me make sure that you know something at the outset, as I think it’s important. If Spider-Man rated, say, eight on the hokey-cheesy-cornball scale, Spider-Man 2 turns it up to eleven. There are times in this movie where you can’t move for all the characters suddenly bursting into huge, didactic and tautological speeches on heroism, love and responsibility. Even Uncle Ben, the character who represented this insane, unsubtle cheesiness manages to get himself back into the film, despite being very dead.

Many of these speeches are terrible. Some are passable. All could have been sliced down to fractions of their current length without losing a thing, and made the film’s opening half far more enjoyable.

But don’t be thinking that this film is bad. It’s not all bad. Almost everything that isn’t corny is fantastic. Let me tell you about these things, and cheer us all up.

This film is very funny — puzzling given the unsubtle nature of most of the dialogue. Tobey Maguire has a knack for physical comedy, whether he be straining to lift or pull some massive object, or feigning a quite topical sore back (Maguire was almost replaced on the film due to back problems). It’s just a shame that Peter is written as the sort of nerd who doesn’t say much when nervous rather than saying a lot, as I feel Maguire could babble to excellent effect given the chance.

Most important in distinction from the previous film — the action has been stepped up quite a notch. Remember how some of the fist-fights between Spidey and the Green Goblin were uncannily reminiscent of something from the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers? No longer. It helps that Doctor Octopus looks a lot more human than the Goblin did, and it makes Spider-Man look a bit more real by comparison. And I can’t gush enough about the various arial stunts that Spider-Man performs. If you even remotely find the idea of this superhero cool, you’ll love every action scene to pieces.

Some of the nicest touches however are the glimpses we get of Peter’s personal life. Seeing him dodging the rent, delivering pizza and visiting the laundromat allows the film to span across the crazy comic book world of ridiculous physics and inadequately explained tentacles, and the harsh, yet amusing reality the rest of us find ourselves in. Lots of fantasy movies and series suffer from slipping a shade too far away from the viewers’ world — Spider-Man 2 dodges such a thing effortlessly.

The grounding effect is also achieved through the largely sympathetic Doctor Otto Octavius. Alfred Molina does a brilliant job — occasionally even with some hokey dialogue — at making a mad scientist having his brain controlled by metal tentacles seem almost believable. He and Maguire probably do the best acting jobs in the film, though James Franco and Kirsten Dunst aquit themselves well again as Harry Osbourne and Mary Jane. It’s no wonder however that Dunst has said she only wants to do one more film; MJ seems doomed to always be the damsel in distress.

Everyone everywhere seems to be raving about Spider-Man 2. I only liked it, but I suspect I’m more allergic to cheesiness than most. I probably overloaded when I watched the whole of Babylon 5. If you enjoy comic book movies, and don’t mind the occasional unsubtle monologue on heroism or responsibility — then you’ll love this one.

Ah, the continuing adventures of that guy who looks like Lindsey, talks like Lindsey, but doesn’t act a thing like him. What fun.

I’ve been very confused about the use of Lindsey this season. But that hardly figures into this episode. While trapped in a suburban hell, there’s very little opportunity to suddenly switch your motivations or decide that you want to kill someone who you made peace with two years ago. Plenty of chances for getting your heart ripped out repeatedly. And Lindsey’s taking full advantage of this.

Until, of course, our heroes decide to rescue him for information. Not that I’m really clear why Lindsey should know any more than the rest of them could if they put their minds to it. But he does seem to think he does, so I should probably accept it. And so, in part, we’ve got one of those irritating didactic episodes that attempts to change the course of the season not through dramatic events but through people sitting around, giving semi-lame speeches about how everything we knew was wrong. Otherwise known as the X-Files technique.

It’s not all bad though. The portrayal of the ‘suburban hell’ is excellent, with oh-so-nice family and oh-so-destructive demon. I especially liked it when the family got their machine guns out. I don’t know what that says about me. But it’s the little things about this episode that make it worth watching — Lorne’s mourning at the bar, Wesley’s drunken ramblings with Illyria, Spike’s beer and briefcase. And one big thing — Hamilton. I don’t mind a little creative borrowing of iconography, even if any resemblance to a certain Agent Smith is completely unintentional.

And Eve’s lost her immortality. I still don’t care though.

Ultimately, this episode feels kind of like an extension of Spike’s lame ‘bad stuff is coming’ speech last episode. Stop telling us this, folks, start showing it. Please don’t turn into Buffy. I’d cry.

I’ll be away for three days, so, no grapefruit updates for a bit.

What’s that you say? We’ve gone weeks in the past without updates and no such announcements were made? Well whinge all you like. Actually, an analysis of the last two days shows that the majority of our traffic is due to searchbots and not people.

Hello searchbots! Searchbots love Angel reviews.

So I might give you one or two when we get back. And hopefully a Spider-Man 2 review. And perhaps some new fiction. And a never-ending packet of Tim Tams. Who’s a cute little searchbot then? Who? Who? Is it you?

There’s been a breakdown in communication somewhere. My alcohol collection boasts only Whiskey, Southern Comfort and Tia Maria. The last one is alright, but where’s my Baileys, hmm? Where’s my Kaluha? You last-minute present buyers are going to have to up your game.

Good wines though, well done on the wines.

Are we sitting comfortably, children? Then I’ll begin.

Once upon a time, Tom had two parties on, and both on the same night. This happens a lot as Tom is super popular and cool, and awesome. He’d gotten an SMS that day to tell him that one of the parties was in the far off land of Hopper’s Crossing. He’d driven there before, he could do it again. He was unfazed. Later, a man called Christopher Honig called to check that he was going to this party. Neither of them mentioned where it was, and both were confused as to why Chris had bothered ringing. But they didn’t worry about it.

So Tom first went to a good friend and erstwhile grapefruit reviewer’s 20th birthday in Brighton. This was great fun, with good people and much chatting. Then, at around 10 o’clock, he jumped in his car to drive to Hopper’s Crossing. It was a long drive, but quite enjoyable – his iPod was on very loud and he sang along in poor key.

When he reached the house, he called Chris on his mobile to say he’d arrived.
“Come on up!”
“Er, the door’s locked.”
“Locked? Where are you?”
“Hopper’s Crossing.”
“You’re joking right?”
“I’m what?”
“We’re at la la land in the city. You’re joking, right?”
…
“Do you think, Chris, that this might have been what you were supposed to tell me about?”

A jolly evening. I got there in the end. Petrol’s much better priced in Hopper’s Crossing.

Okay, so there wasn’t much competition. In fact, close to none. But damn, that was fun. The fact that the third book was a good one probably helped — Lupin and Sirius are pretty cool characters. But I’m so pleased that finally, the films made Hogwarts seem an inviting, wonderful, exciting place.

Anyhow, I’ll let Jess tell you all about it. Although I may not be able to stop myself from writing a review also.

I would just like to say in regard to last week’s ending: WHAT!?! what?? WHAT’S GOING ON?? Just let them live dammit.

It makes more sense now having read Shannon’s top ten episodes about Joss Whedon’s character killing fetish. Also since I had the episode on tape I accidentally rewound backwards through the surprise start when they climbed out of the coffins but I’m sure it would have been funny.

And onto this week’s ep: A slow start this week. I’m not interested in any of their regular dialogue anymore but I do like a good flashback. It was an amusing moral dilemma the characters faced this week. What to do when one of your friends is killing people but it’s only their job. In view of last week’s episode and and the ease with which a character can die, I was hoping that Anya would kick the bucket and we could have a new and interesting character. Alas, no. Anya’s friend, whatshername, was a nice substitute sacrifice though.

The best bits about this episode were definitely the flashback to the musical episode and Spike’s continued dementia.

Anyway, why is everyone relying on me to review these episodes? I’m not even a Buffy fan. I personally hope they all die horrible deaths. There must be a dedicated fan, who can give an insightful opinion, out there who can fill in for me when I’m not here. I’m glad I got that off my chest. Thanks for listening.

Why do I review Doctor Who books for Grapefruit anyhow? Is it to challenge Andrew for least commented review? Is it to justify buying them all the time? Is it to try to get a different breed of net geek to search for this site? No, actually, it’s for the groovy looking covers. One tires of screencaps.

Luckily, unlike the previous story, this book far surpasses its cover. The Doctor, Fitz and Trix (Fitz and Trix… hee hee — I’ll never get tired of saying that out loud) land on the planet Espero, one of Earth’s first colonies. Pathetic, paranoid colonists are always good for a laugh, and these ones are also racist and catholic to boot! As well as predominantly dark-skinned, making the TARDIS crew rather obviously strangers everywhere they go. As one might expect, something bad is about to happen on Espero, and only the Doctor can put it right. If he could just work out who he was…

“Oh no,” you cry, “not amnesia again!” Well, yes, but rest assured this particular bout of memory loss is cleared up quite early on. Of course, it does lead to discussion of the Doctor’s somewhat bigger case of amnesia — and presents good reasons for his refusing to find them. This might have been a touch irritating if it had come in the middle of a series of books that I knew had no plans to do anything with his memory loss — but as it is, there’s only a handful of Eighth Doctor stories left to go, and one assumes there’ll be some resolution to it before the series ends. In this context, it serves more as a reminder to set up future books.

Hopefully. But enough talk of the amnesia — the area’s a minefield and if there WERE Doctor Who fans reading this, there’d be comments galore, I promise. Instead — plot. There’s a nice, deftly painted backstory to this novel, which I usually enjoy. Unfortunately, the pacing is a bit off, and we only get it all very late in the game. Perhaps some vignettes throughout the story would have worked better? Suddenly, there’s this whole new character that you have to care about, who turns out to be the centre of everything. Things feel a bit unbalanced.

If the plot isn’t perfect, the characters and tone in general make up for it. The Doctor’s friend Calamee is a well-drawn teenager, the old Imperator is nice, even if his cunning plan’s anticipation is laid on a bit thick. The villainous Mr Trove is highly enjoyable, and I’ve always enjoyed bitchy royalty. But Fitz and the Doctor steal the show this time around, after undergoing a bit of a memory scramble together. The results are hilarious and lead to some good character development for the pair. Again, I’d think this would just be a drop in the ocean, but with so few books to go, there’s a real chance that all the character threads will actually lead somewhere, and finish.

In any case — fun, nicely written, and with a decent climax — my main failing with Doctor Who recently. Far better than Sometime Never… — perhaps we’re going out on a high.