Tag Archives: humor

Wallflower Agrees to Disagree with Company Holiday Party

December 2, 2012 By in Mundane Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 8 Comments

Every year my wife and I pin my company’s holiday party on our calendar for exactly three reasons:

1. It’s a rare excuse to spend quality time together in an adult setting in nice clothes.

2. It’s a free dinner.

3. They’re generous about giving out door prizes to the majority of the attendees.

It’s been a few years since my last door prize, but I try not to give up hope for the first few hours of the party, during which she and I do our best to pass the time with not much to keep us occupied except each other and pure imagination. This is not as easy for us as it is for normal people. We don’t dance or drink. Those I call “friend” usually find reasons to bow out. Those I call “happy acquaintance” are great at pre-planning their seating arrangements with their longtime closer friends. The two of us usually find an empty table, establish our own Island of Misfit Diners, and grant asylum to other loners or latecomers seeking refuge. It’s a necessary service we’re used to providing.

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Turkey Leg Rock (because every holiday needs carols)

November 21, 2012 By in Mundane Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Thanksgiving turkeyThis Thursday will mark my first time in almost two decades, and my wife’s first time in her life, that she and I will attempt to cook a turkey. We volunteered for turkey duty because one of our usual turkey chefs is under the weather this year and sorely needed a relief from her duties. We appreciate my wife’s grandmother’s years of service, but we think her turn to rest and watch while someone treats her for a change.

I thought to sing an ode to our forthcoming meal (pictured), but traditional Thanksgiving carols are few and far between. Once you get past “Over the River and Through the Woods”, the pickings are pretty sparse. No one’s written “Have Yourself a Merry Little Thanksgiving” or “White Thanksgiving” or “O Come, All Ye Hungry” or even “O Butterball”. I couldn’t even find a single hymn praising Squanto for giving the Pilgrims maize. Fie on those tuneless ingrates.

So I wrote my own ode. Feel free to serenade your own meal as well. And if you’re off the Internet between now and then, Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

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Notes for a “Cinderella” Reboot Nobody Needs

November 19, 2012 By in Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 8 Comments

Walt Disney's CinderellaThis weekend I revisited Walt Disney’s twelfth animated classic Cinderella for the first time since the late 1990s. Of all the numerous Disney films our family has owned in multiple formats, this is one of several that rarely saw repeat viewings even when my son was a toddler who insisted on watching every animated movie over and over again until I hated it.

As with many older Disney films, parts of it have aged better than others. I’ll admit I had trouble staying conscious all the way through. Even if I’m alone in this struggle, the film is now over sixty years old and therefore in need of a gratuitous overhaul on shallow principle. In the spirit of today’s remake-happy medium that thrives on second-hand ideas, the following notes are my suggestions to downconvert this one-time children’s favorite for the modern, unsophisticated audience that Hollywood executives so dearly crave:

1. We need to believe that Cinderella’s dad would have good reasons to want to marry the wicked stepmother. As drawn and acted, she’s a horse-faced harpy. Was she, once upon a time, a gregarious looker? Were they married for so long that her looks and demeanor have simply deteriorated over time? Was the marriage that hard on her? What does that say about dearly departed Dad? Cinderella’s trauma at his loss means he wasn’t an unlovable tyrant, so the only other sensible option is that he was a spineless doormat forced into marriage by this conniving harridan. Clearly we need copious non-linear flashbacks to Dad and Stepmom’s deceptively happy wedding day before it all went wrong, when he turned into Walter Mitty and she became Miss Hannigan from Annie.

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The “Wreck-It Ralph” Easter Eggs You’ll Never See

November 14, 2012 By in Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , 12 Comments

Disney, Wreck-It Ralph, Fix-It Felix Jr.In this day and age where moviegoers can wait until the home-video release before watching a movie multiple times, how often are we willing to devote extra time and money to encore presentations of a theatrical release? The case agreeing to my second showing of Wreck-It Ralph tonight consisted of two winning bullet points:

1. My son and I really, really liked it the first time we saw it. This is the first year for new Pixar and Disney Animated releases in which we liked the Disney film better.

2. We had free passes.

I had hoped to catch more details and Easter eggs this time around. Regretfully, I am old and the film’s background characters are spry. We managed to see a few items we missed the first time around: the other three Pac-Man ghosts; a mounted ostrich from Joust; the resemblance of the TurboTime cabinet design to that of Rally-X; and graffiti on a wall reading “Aerith Lives”. That list is too short. I’d also hoped to catch additional Easter eggs and overlooked scenes more to my liking, including but not limited to:

* A sign in Tapper’s bar reading, “Now Hiring Waitresses”.

* An autographed photo of Fix-It Felix Sr. bearing a strong resemblance to Alec Baldwin.

* The monsters from Rampage standing on a street corner outside the Niceland apartments, just staring and drooling.

* A traffic jam outside the terminal whose gridlocked commuters include the Moon Patrol rover, the OutRun Ferrari, an Armor Attack polygonal tank, an ExciteBike, and Nathan Drake in a Jeep. All sport the same license plate: “RIP G4”.

* A Grand Theft Auto thug being arrested by Mappy.

* A terminal convenience shop run by a Moogle and selling movies on DVD with titles such as Citizen Liu Kang, Disney’s Knights of the Old Republic, Wolfenstein 3D in 3D, and Galaga vs. Gyruss.

* A sidekick barbershop quartet with Clank, Daxter, Sparx, and Luigi.

* Pac-Man throwing a fit at Felix’s party because all the snacks are fruits, and for decades he’s been dying to have just one lousy steak.

* An inter-game prison populated with Leisure-Suit Larry, PaRappa the Rapper, and E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial.

* A political-activist poster advocating a unilateral ban on all Minesweeper mines.

* Alternate end credits with the big-head Journey avatars singing the same thirty-second snippet of “Separate Ways” over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

…but I guess that’s what cutting room floors are for. Those, and the dreams of over-the-hill gamers who can imagine a film with three times the budget and none of the legal hassles.

NaBloPoMo 2012: the Best New Month of My Calendar Year

November 3, 2012 By in Meta Tags: , , , , , , 6 Comments

NaBloPoMo 2012 BadgeBefore settling in at WordPress last April, I kept an infrequent blog for several years as an adjunct creative outlet for my geek message-board experience. It was a fun tool with purposes uniquely assigned to it, but hardly connected to the traditions known throughout the world of blogging at large. (I suppose the term is “blogosphere”, but that still sounds odd to me. Is that used within the community itself, or just a catchy label that the mainstream media affixed to it?) A friendly Thursday alert from The Daily Post was the Internet’s first attempt at teaching me about the concept of NaBloPoMo. Apparently that information was need-to-know and the Internet thought I wasn’t ready in my thirteen previous years of participation. Perhaps the Internet exhibited wisdom beyond words in withholding this knowledge from me. Regardless, now that I know, I refuse to unknow.

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“Revolution” 10/22/2012 Imaginary Episode 5½: Charlie vs. the Presidential Debate

October 22, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

President Bass, David Lyons, "Revolution"

If only the blackout hadn’t canceled all Presidential debates, “Bass” Monroe could be rocking the podium.

Careful students of their cable TV channel guides, as well as viewers who paid attention to last week’s ending promo, already know that NBC’s Revolution is on vacation this week, preempted by the third 2012 Presidential debate, which is bound to generate higher ratings and almost as much Internet nitpicking. I have no idea why I should allow this skip-week to stop my weekly recap fun. With days to while away until next week brings us episode six (entitled “Sex and Drugs” according to NBC.com), the following is my idea for what this week’s episode might look like if it existed. Please enjoy fake episode 5½, entitled “The Body”.

Scene 1: Open on a knock-down drag-out melee between Our Heroes and a horde of sword-wielding hobos inside a spacious, empty indoor set. Miles takes them down three at a time. A heavily bandaged Nora is reduced to slaying only one at a time. Charlie is struggling with one grimy, 350-pound lout who refuses to let go of her crossbow and is shouting ugly sexist epithets. Aaron is hiding outside behind a bush, watching everyone’s backpacks. Charlie slips and falls backward. Her aggressor raises her crossbow above her head, poised to strike. Five-second “REVOLUTION” title card rolls.

Scene 2: “TWO HOURS EARLIER…” says the caption. In the hour that’s passed since last week’s train job failed, Our Heroes have only walked as far as Dayton, Ohio, some 110 miles east of Noblesville. Nora’s massive stab wound is clearly slowing down their progress. Miles decides they can’t go on like this and she needs a stab-wound specialist. He knows a former friend in Grand Rapids who might be able to help. Charlie is torn between continuing their trek to rescue her brother Danny in Philadelphia, or losing yet another female cast member. Grand Rapids it is, over 300 miles northwest of Dayton.

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My Plan to Save the GOP with Time Travel and Rom, Spaceknight

October 20, 2012 By in Comics/Lit, Mundane Tags: , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Depending on which polling organization you follow because of how reassuring their results are to you, the American minority that remains “undecided” in the 2012 Presidential election may presently represent as much as ten percent of the voting public. I’ve not seen any recent polls that project a double-digit breakaway lead for either of the Big Two candidates, so it’s conceivable that the contemplative 10% could make or break a political career. For the sake of unfair generalization, I’m assuming that 10% won’t eventually flock to Libertarian candidate Gary Johnson, or to any of the ignominious candidates from the Green, Constitution, or Justice parties. I’d never even heard of Virgil Goode, Jill Stein, or Rocky Anderson before tonight, until some online friends inspired some light reading on my end. Lord knows how many other serious candidates with more than ten supporters are out there.

The undecided have much to ponder this year. In one corner, they have the incumbent President Obama, among whose qualities is the fact that he’s not Mitt Romney. In the other corner, they have the non-incumbent Mitt Romney, whose most attractive feature seems to be that he’s not Barack Obama. For contrarians, there’s always an affable Libertarian candidate at ringside. Some people favor incumbents because they’re a safe, known quantity. Some people vote against incumbents on the principle that anything resembling lack of change is bad. If you intend to vote against someone rather than for someone, you’ll have three or more options: Not-Obama, Not-Romney, Door #3 Who’s Neither, and Messrs. and Mrs. Probably-Not-Appearing-on-Your-State’s-Ballot.

If you’re a fan of Not-Obama in general and Team Republican in particular, I believe I have an idea for you. It involves one of my childhood heroes coming to your rescue.

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Planning the Perfect Joy-Killing Amusement Park for My Lazy Retirement Years

October 14, 2012 By in Mundane Tags: , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Hersheypark, PAThe amusement-park phase of my life has been slowly wrapping up over the past few years. My son has decided amusement parks no longer offer him sufficient intellectual incentive, and also they’re just not cool. My wife has never been a fan of any fun-time vehicle that exerts greater G-force than my interstate driving. My mother’s requests to visit such places have receded as she’s very, very slowly realizing that such devices will be the death of her.

In recent history I’ve been willing to handle death-defying contraptions as a Family Quality Time function under a few controlled circumstances. I haven’t minded the occasional steel roller coaster, remarkable when they achieve a proper balance of speed and smoothness, as long as I remember my Dramamine dosage and the coaster track contains not a single upside-down segment. I’m also still a fan of any construct that gently lifts me through the air to tremendous heights and returns me safely to the ground without a single rotation or revolution. Beyond that, any excitement and eagerness I ever had for this group-outing genre has faded nearly to black.

As my wife and I spent this afternoon at a location with a couple of low-impact thrill rides, not only did I feel zero temptation, I also felt relieved that no one expected me to climb aboard. The toll on my body, the disruption of my equilibrium, and the loss of general control may be part of the experience, but I’m no longer fond of the compromise. I might feel differently if I were allowed to steer the coaster, sit in more accommodating seats, or even control the brakes and accelerator. I haven’t found a theme park benevolent or magnificent enough to grant me that power or luxury yet.

Within another decade or two, I expect my tolerance to worsen and my stodginess to know fewer bounds. Should relatives or employers suggest another engagement at one of our local mechanized wonderlands such as Indiana Beach or Kings Island, I expect to be slow to consent and slower to avail myself of the ride options…unless, perhaps, they might be willing to accept some of my suggestions for new, calmer, gentler, barely mobile “thrill” rides tailored to meet the wishes and fussiness of those disinclined against disorientation. Examples in my new, personalized ride demographic could include:

* Gently rotating teacup ride, except with broken motor so there’s no actual rotating.

* Antique autos driven by chauffeurs and stocked with elegant snacks.

* Perfectly motionless lazy river, three inches deep and using state-of-the-art technology to prevent any kind of current or even the slightest Brownian motion.

* Sensory deprivation chamber, with inside walls lined with pictures of cute kittens. No lolcat captions, though. When they’re unfunny, they angry up the blood.

* Amazingly lifelike “Mattress Firm showroom” simulator.

* Out-of-order video games that require you to imagine you’re playing the game in your head.

* The Happy Fun Park Mascot Presents the Wonderful Wacky Padded Benches for Sitting and Watching Other People Ride Rides.

* TVs. Enormous ones everywhere, like up-close drive-in screens.

* The lines for the concession stands, but with extra neon lighting so they look more like rides than chores.

These could be great couch-potato-ey fun for the whole family. Or at least for me.

If I ever have grandchildren who want Grandpa to take them to Kings Island, I’m in deep trouble. If I’m lucky, they’ll be willing to settle for an hour’s drive at top speeds along the nearest interstate. I don’t expect to tire of that sort of action anytime soon.

Undeserving Husband Celebrates Underserved Wife’s Birthday with Underwhelming Haiku

October 13, 2012 By in Meta Tags: , , , , , , , , , 4 Comments

Midlife Crisis Crossover

2011 file photo. Author not responsible for the photo editing.

[Based on the wealth of evidence I provide here each week, one could mount a convincing argument that I dwell too much on entertainment media and not nearly enough on What Really Matters. During some extra-logorrheic weeks, one might also wonder if I’m psychologically blocked from clicking the “Publish” button until I’ve clambered past the 1,000-word mark every time. For such doubters, I offer six words of temporary relief:

And now for something completely different.

In honor of my wife’s birthday, I present high art. Wait, no, scratch that — just haiku. And not the great kind with birds or flowers or natural waterways. Sorry.]

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The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Trick-or-Treaters

October 11, 2012 By in Mundane Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 11 Comments

Three weeks from now, our fair neighborhood will be observing Halloween, the one day of the year in which we’re all willing to look directly at each other, and maybe even speak to each other if we’re feeling particularly peppy and high on sugar. For once the children leave their entertainment screens behind for the space of two or three hours and patrol the area in search of the best kind of free handouts — the kind with no government strings attached. For me, it’s a form of community involvement, one of my rare opportunities to engage in brief fellowship and do nice things for the people around us whose names I still don’t know.

Kids of my neighborhood, or of neighborhoods exactly like mine: pay close attention. This is your target. It’s called “a neighbor’s house”.

Halloween decorations

2009 file photo. 2012 decorations and setup TBD.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it and your parents aren’t paranoid enough to forbid it, will be to approach houses like mine and undergo the traditional step-by-step procedure to obtain free candy in exchange for ten seconds of human interaction. I realize this is asking a lot from some among you. If you’d rather forgo the expenditure of effort and simply write “LOTS OF CANDY” on Mommy’s grocery list instead, far be it from me to lecture you about all those generations of diligent children who were better than you.

In preparing yourself mentally and emotionally for the evening’s task, I recommend adhering to the following principles to ensure that your candy donors are impressed with your performance and don’t regret spending dozens of dollars on all those giant bags of junk food. Remember, you’re not just out there to mooch from us adult strangers: you’re there to win at Halloween.

1. Dress like the person you aren’t, not the person you are. Your everyday street clothes are not a costume. Makeup is a good start, but should not be your sole costuming medium. If your so-called “Halloween costume” is comprised entirely of clothes you’ll wear more than three times this year, you’re a deadbeat who’s making the Spirit of Halloween cry. Even if your family can’t afford to overspend on store-bought get-ups, at least try to create something that requires the use of scissors, glue, tape, or food — anything that says, “I tried.”

2. Knock or use the doorbell. A single rapping or button-depress will do. More than once is permissible if it’s my fault that I’m taking too long to answer the door. Three times in fifteen seconds makes you look desperate and increases the odds of my throwing your candy at you overhand. Standing motionlessly on my porch, staring at my door, and waiting for me to detect your heartbeat or the fluctuation in the air pressure caused by your occupancy of that space is not traditional door-to-door decorum and I totally won’t hear you. Shyness is understandable, but hardly meritorious under the circumstances.

3. SAY THE LINE. Three words, three syllables: “Trick or treat!” It’s not a secret password known only to members of the Halloween Cabal. Anyone can memorize it. Some of your peers seem to have trouble vocalizing it. No one is expecting you to spout anything nearly as complicated as, say, “supraventricular tachyarrhythmia”. If I open the door for you, your response is THE LINE. Staring at me silently and expectantly will be rewarded with me returning the silence and motionlessness in kind. I can stay locked in that position all night if I have to. I might even make it worse with eye contact. Don’t test me on this.

4. Don’t make me open your container for you. Take the lid off your bucket, open your plastic bag or pillowcase wide, pull up the flap on the hiking backpack, whatever. If I have to do that part for you, from a distance it’ll look as though I’m trying to steal from your stash, to say nothing of the weird violation of personal space required to keep your share of my candy from dropping all over my unswept porch.

5. Don’t immediately look into your bag to evaluate your spoils. That’s just rude. My candy bucket was right there before your very eyes where you could see it, and already you’re inspecting the results? Are you checking for explosives? Are you afraid I pulled a bait-and-switch and gave you broccoli lollipops instead of chocolate bars? Can you really tell my candy apart from the dozens of other treats in your bag? You do know most of us benefactors hand out pretty much the same brand names, right?

6. SAY THE OTHER LINE. Two words, two syllables: “Thank you.” They’re English and they’re common in some circles. If it helps, write them on the back of your hand. Weeks in advance, if need be. Practice saying them to yourself in a mirror. Use flashcards. Have a friend drill you. By any means necessary, learn them. They’re your easiest way to validate me as a human being so I don’t feel like an unloved vending machine that you’re taking for granted.

7. If you’re a baby, see to it that your parent does all of the above for you. If your parent can’t handle the job, cry uncontrollably until they agree to find a cool aunt or uncle to take their place. You may have your whole life ahead of you, but it’s still too short to leave yourself at the mercy of amateurs.

Remember: enjoy the evening; be safe and sensible; travel in groups where possible; and — I can’t emphasize this enough — don’t forget your lines. If five words is too taxing or you’re struggling with stage fright, ask Mom or Dad to stand off to one side with cue cards. Pretend you’re hosting Saturday Night Live and have to succeed lest you ruin the funniest sketch of the night and end up being mocked in a thousand YouTube response videos. Have fun!

Internet Commenters Demand Legislation Against Complex Sentences

September 15, 2012 By in Meta, Misc. Media Tags: , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Hello, readers. How are you? I am hunky-dory.

Today was a good day. I got to rest. I ate good food. I watched some DVD extras. One was a documentary. It was about A Night to Remember. That movie was about the Titanic. The documentary was not fun. The photos were okay. The narrators were all very old men. They talked a lot. Sometimes they talked for many minutes. They talked very slowly. Sometimes there were very long pauses. Then they talked some more. They were nice men. I felt like a great-grandchild. I did not see the last fifteen minutes. I stopped the DVD early. I was sleepy.

Then I got on the Internet. It has interesting pages. I wanted to read a movie review. It was about The Master. I have mentioned that movie before. Joaquin Phoenix is angry and confused. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is charming and maybe evil. Amy Adams is happy and unhappy. I may go see it. I have not decided. My city is not showing it yet. Maybe they will show it in October.

The review was written by a movie critic. Her name is Lisa Schwarzbaum. Her boss is named Entertainment Weekly. She has worked there for decades. She likes itty-bitty foreign films. She also likes movies about sexiness. Sometimes I do not agree with her. Sometimes I do. She uses big words and long sentences. I can usually understand her. Sometimes I also use big words and long sentences. Sometimes she mentions really weird movies. That does not bother me. Sometimes I also talk about weird things.

Ms. Schwarzbaum liked The Master very much. She gave it an A. Her review had big words and long sentences. This was the last sentence of her review:

The cubism of the concluding third of the picture allows a disoriented viewer to consider this singular movie not only as a character portrait, but also as a photographic travel diary, from the days before Instagram, by an important artist following the itinerary of Americans seeking salvation and prosperity when an exterior world war was over but interior psychological battles raged.

The word “cubism” threw me for a moment. I looked it up on the Internet. It has dictionaries and WikiPedia in it. I found Cubism in there. Now I understand the whole sentence. “Cubism” is a good word for a Paul Thomas Anderson film.

Some readers did not like her review. They really did not like her last sentence. A few readers said mean things about her. One reader said this direct quote:

…it is exhausting – why does she have to create super complex sentences with thesaurus worthy big words – it doesn’t impress me, it belittles me. and that last sentence, WTF? I’d hate to be stuck next to a cooler with her, attempting to carry on a conversation about the latest small town drama. Know your audience.

Her audience does not like long sentences or big words. “Entertainment” is a big word. Lisa’s words are mostly shorter than “entertainment”. They should rename the magazine Things Weekly. The audience would like them better.

Another unhappy reader said this direct quote:

“the cubism of the final third……….” this sentence is not only THE most pretentious piece of critical crap I’ve ever read, it also convinced me not see the probable load of “important” blarney that inspired it.

The Internet has many pretentious pieces of critical crap. I have read some of them. I usually do not rank them. Some reviews can be pretentious and not crap. Sometimes I like pretentiousness. That word is even bigger than “entertainment”. It does not scare me. I used to be an English major. Other English majors scared me. One time our class talked about “Murders in the Rue Morgue”. That is an old story about gross murders. One victim was stuffed inside a chimney. One classmate had a theory about the scene’s meaning. He used the phrase “return-to-the-womb motif”. I was very scared. I wanted to leave class immediately. Now I am older. I have conquered that fear.

Ms. Schwarzbaum probably writes how she wants. Maybe she even thinks that way. Her writing made other people sad. She should rewrite her last sentence. It should be many sentences. The sad people might like the new sentences. They could look like this:

The movie shows you things about each character. Some of those things are very different from each other. It takes place in the past. The old places tell one long story. It is better than random photos. The story comes after a war. People were not happy yet. They had a lot to think about. They tried to make money and be saved. The movie is very good. The director is neat.

Shorter sentences can be happier sentences. The biggest word in those sentences is “different”. That word should not be scary. I think Liza Schwarzbaum is a different writer. Maybe I am a very different reader.

Well, got to go. Have a nice day. I will see you all tomorrow. My next entry may have commas and more clauses in it because of pretentiousness. I hope you will not hate my important blarney. I promise I will not read it aloud to you with extra long pauses. That might make it worse.

“Premium Rush” Shows Why Bicycles Should Digitally Replace Cars in All Action Flicks Ever

September 5, 2012 By in Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , , , , , 6 Comments

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, "Premium Rush"After seeing the new Joseph Gordon-Levitt flick Premium Rush tonight, I’ve realized that bicycles are the greatest machine ever. I should already know this after multiple viewings of Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure and my mastery of the old arcade game Paperboy, but those are old and Premium Rush is new. To today’s young folk that means it’s more influential than either of those works by definition.

Consider the pros of bicycle ownership that I’ve learned tonight:

* Bicycles use no gas. Not only does this save average consumers money, it means movies that replace all their cars with bikes will overflow with carbon credits or go-green points or whatever currency this market uses.

* Bicycles fit through tight cracks in traffic jams. Related note: traffic laws only apply if bicycle policemen can catch you. Don’t get too overconfident, since bikecops do have the power of teleportation, based on how many places our hero’s bikecop nemesis (stuntman Christopher Place) shows up in the movie through magical point-A-to-point-B locale shifts. That power only gets bikecops so far, though — their advanced age and lack of BMX tricks makes them an easily evaded adversary.

* Bicycle parts are sturdy and survive any and all forms of undue stress, short of a head-on collision. In that event, temporary replacement bikes should be readily available for borrowing from your immediate vicinity.

* Bicycles are much faster than cars. They can dodge and weave through the thickest of traffic, especially if you have the power of instant super-calculus like Amadeus Cho. If a crooked cop is several feet behind you, just pedal really hard. Sure. he could put his pedal to the metal and flatten you, but he won’t. For some reason. Mental block, maybe, who knows. One exception to this rule: when a finale is coming up, cars are faster because they have to catch up with you before the last big set piece begins. You can’t just arrive in time to save the day while the bad guy is still several blocks away because of rush hour or construction delays. No audience wants to cheer the defeat of a villain in absentia.

* Bicycle-related jobs never have a dress code. Our hero’s pride in avoiding nice suits and ties is a large part of Who He Is. (Our hero clearly learned nothing from Pee-Wee.) Late in the movie, a montage of assorted bicycling professionals confirms that clothing, hair care, and hygiene are left to the employee’s discretion. Hopefully they disinfect their packages before handing them to the intended recipient.

* The bad guys never try shooting you during chase scenes. You’re a small moving target, and they’re probably lousy shots anyway, even if they carry a gun for a living. This facet remains largely unexplored in Premium Rush, but in other chase movies, judging by the average number of missed shots per movie, I get the impression that crooked cops and evil military men never have to fret about marksmanship on their performance review.

* Bicycle lanes are optional. Over the past few years, Indianapolis has spent millions renovating and redesigning numerous thoroughfares to add bicycle lanes — sometime widening streets, sometimes taking an entire lane away from cars and designating it as a bicycle lane instead (White River Parkway North Drive, I’m looking in your excessively named direction). As seen in Premium Rush, Manhattan bicyclists seem to do just fine without them. The closest they come to compromising is when they have to share a walkway in Central Park with wheel-deprived pedestrians.

With so much going for bicycles, I foresee a day when filmmakers and studios revisit their works George-Lucas-style and decide it’s time to tamper with them for the sake of a modern audience. Imagine The French Connection with Popeye Doyle free-styling it up, or The Bourne Supremacy filmed in you-are-there Bicycle-Smashing-Cam. Stephen King’s Christine would have been about twenty minutes long, once the possessed 1957 Schwinn American realized it wasn’t really equipped to kill. Best of all in my mind would be the late John Frankenheimer’s Ronin — narrow chases through all those claustrophobic European streets, still at breakneck speeds, and everyone’s still armed with bazookas. The mind reels at the cinematic possibilities, so much so that I have to stop myself from staying up overnight and brainstorming any more. (Maybe that’s tomorrow night’s entry. No one tempt me.)

Setting all that aside, this was a fun, footloose, albeit PG-13-languaged 91 minutes’ worth of popcorn-movie excuse to watch Gordon-Levitt play the same kind of tenacious, hard-luck, unlikely hero that worked well for him in (500) Days of Summer, except here he’s not a jerk and he gets to win. It’s also a showcase for anyone who wants to know what Michael Shannon looks like, before he appears in next year’s Man of Steel. I didn’t see Revolutionary Road, for which he was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for what I read was a fairly tiny role, but here he dominates plenty of screen time as a foul-mouthed crooked cop (who naturally is the one to fill the movie’s one-F-word quota) with an amoral attitude and an unfortunate addiction to Pai gow. His tough New York sounds more like other movies than what we heard last year on vacation, but that only added to his scary intensity.

Other random, disconnected thoughts that flew through my head while watching the Greatest Bicycle Film of All Time:

* Fun geek note: Shannon continually hides behind the alias “Forrest J. Ackerman”, named after the famous sci-fi fan. (Yes, once upon a time, they used to have those. 105% of all sci-fi fans wish that were still the case.)

* Other than Gordon-Levitt and Shannon, the only other actor I recognized without research was Aasif Mandvi, my favorite correspondent in those rare moments when I have time to watch secondhand online clips from The Daily Show with John Stewart. Mandvi basically reprises his role as cranky boss Mr. Aziz from Spider-Man 2, but his presence is value-added good times.

* Listen carefully during one of Gordon-Levitt’s course-plotting moments, and you’ll be rewarded with a Wilhelm scream, to no small comedic effect.

* Do the kids these days still say “shred” in any bike-related context? It sounds like previous-decade slang.

* Gordon-Levitt’s motto, “Brakes are death,” sums up every bad commute I’ve ever harrumphed my way through.

* My favorite thing about the movie was recognizing Manhattan landmarks and locales that our family encountered on our 2011 road trip. Among the notable sights that nab screen time are Chinatown; Columbus Circle; a #1 subway station (the 116th Street Station, if the visuals match the story); the Ed Sullivan Theatre (blink and you miss it); Columbus Street alongside the Natural History Museum; and, of course, Central Park. Natives no doubt will recognize three times as many places as I did.

* No, there’s no scene after the end credits, but you can stick around and hear several more minutes of “Baba O’Riley” if you’d like. You can also recover from the shock of realizing that the entire movie flew right by without a single character using the phrase “need for speed.” Writing without that cliché in a movie all about speed may be its most skillful trick.

The “Falling Skies” Season 2 Finales You Won’t See on TV in Our Reality

August 17, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

The first nine episodes of Falling Skies‘ second season have been a tense thrill ride, except arguably the one episode that was devoted entirely to people chatting in cars. And, granted, fans of special effects may also noticed to their chagrin that last week’s episode, “The Price of Greatness”, didn’t feature a single live Skitter. I also find it immensely distracting every time two characters ostensibly hundreds of miles apart just happen to bump into each other. Otherwise, thrills have been a-poppin’ and tension has been mounting.

The addition of special guest stars Terry O’Quinn (Lost) as the first post-apocalyptic politician and Matt Frewer (forever Max Headroom in my heart) as an unthinking military man was certainly a step in the right direction away from staleness. Based on the promo for the season finale (enclosed below), it’s safe to say we can expect great, hopefully unpredictable things are in store for us. So far, I’ve been pretty satisfied with where the show has been steered of late, thanks in large part to season 2 showrunner Remi Aubuchon, whose previous work on NBC’s Persons Unknown was a big hit in our household and apparently nowhere else. (I still think of the show every time I’ve seen Reggie Lee pop up in other things like Grimm and The Dark Knight Rises. Seeing our heroes undergo Level 2 would’ve been a real treat.)

What if things had gone differently? What if Aubuchon hadn’t been available to helm Falling Skies because he was too busy wrapping up Persons Unknown season 3 after it magically found an audience? Imagine infinite versions of the show by infinite showrunners, perhaps in worlds where the fates of many a TV creator ran along a much different career track than they have in the reality we know and love.

In some of those alt-Earths, the Falling Skies season 2 finale, titled “A More Perfect Union” in our present reality, might be reimagined by those alt-producers like so:

Joss Whedon: One of the Overlords is finally given a name and a distinct, engaging personality. Season 2’s Big Bad is revealed at last, and happens to be the CEO of an evil galactic corporation. The season concludes not with another cliffhanger, but with a satisfying firefight that looks really expensive but was done on a shockingly modest budget, while at the same time offering deep-rooted closure to the season’s ongoing themes of distrust between allies and compromised freedoms. Also, because Tom has a happy relationship with Anne and is a great father to his boys, he obviously has to die quickly and brutally at the end. Season 3 will see the show renamed Maggie the Skitter Stomper, and Hal coping with his grief by developing unhealthy addictions to black clothing and expensive hair care products.

Chris Carter: Tom and Anne’s relationship is immediately downgraded back to irritating will-they-or-won’t-they status. The finale introduces four new kinds of aliens, six new supporting characters, and eight new conspiracies, ending after much sound and fury with an alien-war cliffhanger and a “To Be Concluded” placard. It is a placard of lies.

Amy Sherman-Palladino: After nineteen straight episodes of near-flawless heroism, Tom spends some time revealing all his fatal flaws and making sure we know he’s no hero to be praised or followed. This culminates in a harsh argument with Weaver in which both characters are required to recite entire speeches’ worth of dialogue at each other, longer than the Declaration of Independence and at 400 wpm. Weaver eventually convinces Tom about his wrongness just in enough time for the two of them to nab a pair of empty front-row seats at the Charleston Elementary production of My Fair Lady, in which li’l Matt closes the show with a heartbreaking rendition of “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face”. Eliza Doolittle is played by his new harnessed girl-pal from two episodes ago, who’s seen the error of her ways and begrudgingly joined the 2nd Mass after all. Forgiveness and healing are all but certain, as are countless tossed-away joke references to hip, erudite topics such as The Fantasticks, Secrets and Lies, Tamagotchi, The Decameron, and Steve Urkel.

Shonda Rhimes: Fifteen minutes of relationship angst and forty-five minutes of sex scenes. Noah Wyle will glisten and preen like he’s never glistened and preened before. Every female character will become insufferable.

Dick Wolf: The finale is a fully self-contained episode, except half the cast die or quit the rebellion. Their replacements in season 3 will be played by desperate but totally terrific Broadway actors at half the cost.

Alfred Gough and Miles Millar: Hal suddenly realized he’s still in love with Karen, was meant to be with Karen, and will never give up waiting for Karen, even though the best viewers will waste countless hours disagreeing with him via the Internet. All other characters will moan, groan, and keep pointing him toward Maggie in vain. Pope’s chaotic-good repartee will become three times zingier, and Pa Mason will spout more aphorisms than ever. Frustrating cliffhanger ending is mandatory, and won’t see full closure until eight episodes into season 3.

Vince Gilligan: Tom goes underground to meet the dregs of what’s left of American society. He discovers a way to destroy the invaders from within once and for all, but it may require him to sacrifice the life of one of his sons. He goes forward with it anyway, as the darkness begins to form slowly in his once-pure heart. Anne is strangely on board with every bizarre decision he makes. The Noah Wyle that America once knew and loved as the benevolent Dr. John Carter gets really scary to watch.

Frank Darabont: The first fifty-eight minutes will be the characters standing around wreckage, staring into space meaningfully, pausing to reflect and mourn at length, holding conversations about compromised freedoms, and ending every other sentence with, “…but at what price?” The final two minutes are super awesome alien wartime nonstop explosion cinema extravaganza that blows the fans away, costs $60 million to film, and requires a now-penniless TNT to cancel all its other original series except Franklin & Bash, whose two stars are willing to forgo paychecks and work for vending machine snacks.

Veena Sud: One solid hour of everyone standing, staring, pausing, and generally hanging out on lots of dull grey sets. Smiles are forbidden. Dale Dye and all other officers above Weaver will admit they’re no closer now to understanding the aliens’ motives than they were when the invasion began two seasons ago. In the only real plot development of the entire episode, Tom is relieved of command when he admits he has no idea how to use a gun, and has just been getting really lucky all this time.

Thankfully none of these realities are ours, for we live in the greatest reality of ALL TIMES. Enclosed for posterity is that brief season finale promo that may or may not contain all the hints we need to predict what’ll happen this Sunday night.

My amateur predictions:

1. Charleston will burn.
2. A minor recurring character will die. The easy money’s on Tector.
3. The firefight will look spectacular.
4. Lourdes hopefully stops mourning and gets back to representing for the faithful.
5. Just as the battle is nearly lost, Ben returns with a veritable cavalry.
6. Pope quits and leaves for good, and then returns again, and then quits and leaves yet again, and so on.
7. My wildest prediction, most likely to be wrong — Dai will have at least three whole lines. You heard it here first.

Prequelmania Continues in 2013 with “Oz the Great and Powerful”, a.k.a. “Before Munchkins”

July 16, 2012 By in Movies/Films/Flicks Tags: , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

I was away from home last week and privy to hotel Internet access of varying strengths ranging from Very Good to Intermittent to Sadly-DSL to Better-Off-Using-the-Unsecured-Hotspot-of-the-Hotel-Next-Door. Unwilling to squander minutes of family quality time on failed attempts at streaming video, I missed out when the rest of America had the chance to view the first trailer for Oz the Great and Powerful, director Sam Raimi’s vision of how Academy Award Nominee James Franco might transform into Academy Award Nominee Frank Morgan with the aid of a hat, a balloon, a storm, and younger, more hygienic versions of the three witches from MacBeth.

For those who likewise missed out:

I’m sure it’s visually stunning, but I may be seeing it alone in theaters. My son prefers L. Frank Baum’s original Oz novels and holds the loose 1939 film adaptation in contempt. He also hated Harry Osborn and thought he should have died much earlier in the Spider-Man series.

I’m mildly curious to see if this prequel can connect the dots without being too derivative. Maybe it’s just me, but writing a prequel sounds even easier than rebooting an existing franchise. Select one character from a previous work whose origin was never explained. Imagine them younger and the exact opposite of what made them famous. Design a simple plot framework that allows them to transform from one state to the other, either in two hours or in six. Add a few new characters to sell toys, plus a few in-jokes that will only be funny to several hundreds of millions of hardcore #1 fans. Presto! Instant beloved prequel with crowded San Diego Comic Con panel. Since prequels don’t yet suffer the same stigmata that sequels and reboots do, generating one seems more prestigious and less unoriginal. For now.

Under the right circumstances, any of the following potential prequels could be coming soon to a theater or Kindle near you:

Harry Potter Origins: James Potter — Once upon a time, Harry Potter’s dad was an individual in his own right. This ten-film prequel series would show how his seven painstaking years at Hogwarts helped him become a heroic student, husband, and father before his noble sacrifice reduced him to a supporting character in his own son’s life, as well as playing second fiddle to his wife Lily, about whom Harry would reminisce much more often. This would be the first of a plethora of Potter prequels, one series for each of the series’ several hundred characters. The final movie in the series, Harry Potter Origins: Colin Creevey, should begin filming by the time original actor Hugh Mitchell turns 80, though his contract will require him to reprise the role as a ten-year-old anyway. This may require some light makeup and a few hundred million in digital effects.

Crib Story — A rousing adventure about the hopes and dreams of the original toys that belonged to two-month-old baby Andy. Returning characters such as Wheezy, Hamm, Bo Peep, and the shark that once borrowed Woody’s hat will be joined by an all-new set of merchandised characters who react poorly when their ranks are joined by an age-inappropriate cowboy doll. Featuring the voices of Jon Hamm as Lots-o-Huggin Bear (a good, uncorrupted one this time), Ke$ha as a Beanie Baby kitty-cat, Patton Oswalt as a really cool sock monkey, the members of One Direction as a bunch of plastic animals dangling from a mobile, Ian McShane as a Fisher Price Corn Popper with a hidden agenda, and Ricky Gervais as a really annoying rattle who keeps trying to steal the movie.

Star Wars Episode Minus-2: the Hopeful Phantom — Why not prequels to prequels? Within five years I predict preprequels will be all the rage. The first chapter of a new trilogy (to be continued in episodes minus-one and zero) will chronicle the life of scrawny Cecil Palpatine, victim of many a bully in Coruscant Elementary School until he orders a self-help pamphlet from an old comic book that teaches him how to be a man, win friends, influence people, and electrocute opponents with his bare hands. A few scant elements will be cherry-picked at random from existing Star Wars Expanded Universe novels; any previous books not referenced in the movie version of Cecil’s story will be rendered instantly non-canonical and allowed to go out of print.

X-Men First Class Origins: Sebastian Shaw — See how a once-heroic man turned into a super-villain, who turned the once-heroic Erik Lensherr into a super-villain, who turned the once-barely-heroic Pyro into a super-villain, who turned some other guy into a super-villain, who went back in time and turned this one other guy into a super-villain, who turned Shaw into a super-villain. Or something. Fans will adore how quickly the movie continuity and timeline become even more convoluted and impenetrable than the original comics’.

God: Days of Genesis Future — All-powerful, everlasting, infinite in existence and consciousness…but what was he like before infinity began? This hypothetical examination will fancy itself an authoritative work in the hands of two Jewish screenwriters, an agnostic director, eight atheist executive producers, an endless parade of inter-faith focus groups who agree on nothing, and a handsome Scientologist starring as The God. For the sake of affirmative action, exactly one token Christian will be allowed on set, a makeup assistant who thinks that listening to Oprah is as good as reading Scripture. In order to avoid an R rating, the movie will be limited to a maximum of 2½ non-swearing uses of the name “Jesus”, though it’ll be a heart-stopping surprise if they even reach 1.

Lord of the Rings: the Silmarillion — No. Please, can we just not?

“Once Upon a Time” Season 2 Cast to Add as Many as 700 More Disney Characters

July 6, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

Once Upon a Time was originally written off by Internet comics fans as an alt-world version of Bill Willingham’s Fables, but felt no slings or arrows as it became ABC’s highest-rated new drama of the 2011-2012 season. The complex saga of fairy-tale characters trapped in the modern world without their memories was a nonstop roller coaster that leavened linear storytelling with non-linear flashbacks and delved into themes of identity, belief, vengeance, betrayal, and true love. The basic cast of Snow White, Prince Charming, their long-lost adult daughter Emma, her forsaken son Henry, his adopted mother Mayor Evil Queen, and her ally/nemesis/ally/nemesis Rumpelstiltskin were joined each week by a strong, nuanced supporting cast who each had a turn living out their origins and defining their roles in the scary new world of quaint little Storybrooke.

The happy news three weeks ago was that Meghan Ory’s Red Riding Hood (a.k.a. Ruby the world’s greatest detective who’d rather be a waitress) would be upgraded to full-time regular status in season 2. This week Entertainment Weekly brought announcements of two more recurring characters being added to the show, neither of whom I’ve ever watched in anything: Jamie Chung as Mulan and Sarah Bolger as Sleeping Beauty. Those two are in addition to already existing recurring characters Dr. Jiminy Cricket, Ruby’s grandma restaurateur, the Blue Fairy, Amy Acker’s other fairy, the madder-than-mad Mad Hatter, Sidney Glass the queen’s tool, August “Pinocchio” Booth, the tormented Belle, my personal hero Grumpy, the blondish doctor who has yet to reveal his true Disney name, and a handful of other one-shot Disney properties such as Maleficent and Pongo.

I trust the showrunners know what they’re doing and will be adding new characters organically as the flow of the season allows them, rather than cramming them in all at once as if the series were a virtual clown-car of corporate merchandise mascots, all suffocating each other as they vie for our attention and the approval of their Disney overlords. I can only imagine this trend taken to an extreme as we run out of princesses by season 4 and have to start scraping the Disney barrel for too many unnecessary live-action reboots. The possibilities for casting and subplots abound:

* A Hawaiian girl named Lilo with a most exotic pet.

* Chernabog from Fantasia as the season 3 Big Bad, having conquered and assumed control of Fairy Tale Land while Mayor Evil Queen has been in absentia.

* Pocahontas as a lawyer representing for Storybrooke’s minorities and/or environmental causes, switching specialties every other episode for plot needs as TV lawyers are wont to do.

* Dumbo’s mother incarnated as an overprotective plus-sized mother of Henry’s new mute, big-eared friend.

* Bob Newhart and Zsa-Zsa Gabor reprising their roles as Bernard and Bianca, now retired adventurers who bicker sweetly while their rambunctious brood carry on the family business.

* Don Novello resumes as the demolitions expert from Atlantis: the Lost Empire, except now clad in his old Father Guido Sarducci costume.

* Aladdin’s magic carpet as a hybrid sports car, purple with gold trim, and as alive as Herbie the Love Bug.

* While I’m thinking about it, Herbie the Love Bug wouldn’t be unwelcome, either.

* Zach Braff as a small, jaundiced paranoiac who won’t stop ranting about the sky falling.

* Goofy as the world’s worst sports instructor, still making that terrified “YAAAA-HOOIE!” cry that never fails to make me chuckle.

* Robin Williams as a live-action genie. If this never happens, the show and its promises are all LIES.

Of course, a cast this size would require a budget of several million dollars per episode, possibly as much as one-tenth the cost of an episode of George Lucas’ Star Wars dream show. Cuts will need to be made somewhere to accommodate producer mandates. CG effects may be toned down somewhat in favor of placards that advise the viewers at home to “just use your imagination.” More time for extra commercials may be necessary, cutting episode running times down from forty-five minutes per episode to about ten. I also wouldn’t be surprised to see Storybrooke open its very first Subway franchise.

The schedule for next weekend’s San Diego Comic Con includes a Once Upon a Time panel (Saturday the 14th at 11 a.m. — note it on your SDCC calendar app!) that will no doubt shed more light on what’s in store for season two, in addition to giving lucky fans a chance to express their gratitude to the cast in person. Personally, I’m crossing my fingers in hopes of a Grumpy and the Fairy spinoff. I’d claim myself a front-row seat for that, even if it was…for a price.

“Falling Skies” Fans Count Down to Season 2 Premiere, Desperately Try to Remember Character Names

June 16, 2012 By in TV/DVD Tags: , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

After an extended absence from Earth’s airwaves, the post-invasion saga Falling Skies returns to TNT with a two-hour season premiere Sunday, June 17th, at 9 p.m. EDT. Viewers like me were pleasantly surprised to watch a series containing the phrase “Executive Producer Steven Spielberg” that wasn’t canceled at the end of season one. Yes, I’m still bitter about the others, but I’m grateful that one made the grade with the Nielsen commoners.

Ten months have now passed since I saw the season 1 finale as it aired. I didn’t buy the DVD set and rarely watch reruns of any show, well-liked or not. Obviously I’ve slept since August 2011 and have had plenty of other shows, movies, and comics to preoccupy me in the meantime. I have less than 24 hours to remember where we left off without resorting to cheating, by which I mean paying any attention to the current marketing onslaught or reviewing its WikiPedia pages.

So far I recall the following cast of characters:

Noah Wyle as not exactly Dr. John Carter, M.D.: Our intrepid main character is a former Massachusetts history teacher who role-models bravely for his three sons while downplaying a modest drive for vengeance for the death of his wife. When last we saw him, he had agreed under duress to fly off into space with our alien overlords. I’d like to think the first scene in the premiere will be an intricately choreographed wire-fu sequence aboard the mothership that ends with him defenestrating all the aliens and piloting their craft back to Earth with their speakers blaring a classic-rawk station cranked up to 11.

Son 1, Son 2, and Son 3: Like their dad, whatever his real first name is, all their names, whatever they are, are short. Main characters never have lengthy names like Mortimer, Cordwainer, or Buckminster. I think the middle son, the implant survivor whose symbio-ectomy left him imbued with useful super-powers, was named Ben. The oldest son knew how to use guns and ride a motorcycle, and was well on his way to being treated by his dad as an official, independent, adult male. He was much more mature and less disappointing than the oldest child on Executive Producer Steven Spielberg’s Terra Nova. The littlest son was very little and may grow up to be a tech whiz if he’s not endangered too often. Repeated exposure to such nightmarish situations is likely to turn him into Carl from The Walking Dead. No one wants that.

Lourdes, the overtly devoutly religious helper girl: At last, a character who can believe in God, openly display that she does, exude actual signs of hope and faith, and even pray (*gasp!*) without being secretly evil, mocked by the other characters, mocked by the showrunners, taught a very special lesson about Tolerance, or murdered as a cheap plot stunt. Yet. If the showrunners ever leave, odds are she’ll be the first character thrown under the bus. I’m trying not to mourn her loss in advance, but the track record for this sort of character has been exasperatingly dismal ever since Little House on the Prairie ended. I’d buy posters and any ancillary merchandise of her if I thought it would improve her chances of remaining on the show till the very end, and if it wouldn’t make me seem like a creepy old man.

Doctor Moon Bloodgood: You don’t forget a name like that, even when you forget a name like her character’s. Since chances of a sequel to Terminator Salvation are nil, she’ll have to accept her destiny to become Mrs. John Carter someday. For now, she’s a doctor with more resources and spine than some of her male associates, but without being hatefully offputting. Kudos!

Will Patton as Commander Gruff McPonytail: He barked orders, he disagreed with Noah Wyle every ten minutes, he struggled with his faith, he lost his marbles for a while, and then he was back in the saddle, still barking and wounding the enemy with his permanent stubbble.

Silent Dai, the only Asian around for miles: I was disappointed when he missed out on several important maneuvers due to combat injuries. Then again, there was no reason to expect him to defeat his opponents with the brutal beatdown techniques of an amazing ninja warrior. That’s racist. A missed opportunity, but still racist.

Commander Dale Dye: My eyes nearly popped out of my head when the famous TV/movie military technical advisor guest-starred last season. My heart sank when we were told he died. Offscreen, no less. I can only hope this intel was flawed and we’ll see Dye return with an alien harness and a really big gun.

Nina Sharp of Massive Dynamic: It’s hard to forget the episode where Blair Brown played a kindly old lady with lovely tea service and a penchant for selling out to the aliens. When Fringe concludes next season, Falling Skies would do well to invite her back.

Long-hair biker gangster who evolved from evil to just really, really selfish: He’s least likely to do the right thing and gets all the funniest lines. He’s the Jonathan Harris of a new generation. His saving grace is his mad cooking skills, an Iron Chef by way of MacGyver, making the most of his limited ingredients in an impoverished world where the overlords bombed all the really good restaurants out of business. I’m sure several thousand impervious Subway franchises still thrive, but who cares.

Maggie, forced biker moll no more: Understandably edgy and voted Most Likely to Put a Bullet in Chef Biker’s Head if he keeps misbehaving.

Another blond teen: I do recall there was one. She distracted Son #1 from Lourdes. Then something bad happened to her. That’ll teach her.

Young, goofy, trigger-shy Jimmy: How many more allies must be jeopardized or gravely injured before he catches up with the other quickly maturing teens and finally holds his own without crying and hiding? My guess is 72.

Ben’s black friend who loved being a slave: I couldn’t help thinking there was something very wrong about that. Proof positive that the enemy is evil.

The skitters: I can’t wait for one of them to have a personality or a name. Just one would go such a long way. Hopefully their newly revealed supervisors have surprises and identities in store.

I can only imagine how many memory holes I haven’t uncovered yet, but I trust sufficient expository reminders and recaps are forthcoming. If they fail, I’ll make up my own names for everybody and enjoy the show anyway. In this scenario the three sons will be named Morty, Cordy, and Bucky.