Scribblings from the Mitchy Side

Can't believe it's been four days since I blogged. It's gone by really fast. Anyhoo, here's what I've been up to.

I watched the Mutts Mets lose the third game of the series to the Yankees in supremely distressing fashion. They were in the lead at one point and then totally self destructed. Argh.

I haven't watched any baseball since, partly because I've been busy downloading several season finales (more on which in a few) but mostly because I've hit one of those golden periods where I'm on BST. I'm sleepy by midnight, sound asleep by half past and bright eyed and bushy tailed at 8am. OK, the last is a slight exaggeration but I'm still waking up far earlier than normal. I want to know who I am and where is the real Mitchy....

On Tuesday, I went into the City to meet with a friend of a friend for an informal interview: I mentioned this earlier in the journal. I'm happy to report the meeting went very well and Louise, the nice lady I talked to, is passing my CV onto a friend at JP Morgan, as well as keeping my name in mind if any positions should open up at BGI. I have to say though, the Tube did not play nicely on the day, with the Circle Line playing silly buggers in the morning. I waited 25 mins at Kings Cross for an Eastbound Circle train and didn't see nary a one. In the end, I caught a Metropolitan line train to Aldgate and caught a bus down to Tower Bridge from there. Somehow, despite having to flail around trying to find the right building in a large complex of buildings with no signs or numbers, I arrived on time. Phew! Going back, the central line was totally stuffed up due to some pillock walking on the track at Notting Hill. So I ended up going back up to King's Cross and then back down on the Piccadilly Line to Covent Garden, with a brief pit stop at the Kings X loos. WHY don't underground stations have toilets, hmm? One of life's annoyances, that.

Anyway, I strolled through Covent Garden, prowled round a couple of book stores, purchased a Robert B.Parker I was fairly sure I hadn't read and headed to a Pizza Hut to indulge in the £5.69 Buffet Lunch. After which, I was so fat and full, I waddled slowwwwly back to King's Cross, via the Northern Line and Euston. I was just in time to waddle fairly leisurely down to platform 10A to catch the express back to WGC. I'd parked the car in long term parking so a short stroll saw me safely in my motor and thus swiftly home. I got back by 4pm, totally shattered.

As I've said earlier, over the past few days a lot of the US shows I watch have had their season finales. Thus I've been busy downloading episodes and watching, with various amount of enjoyment. Warning: SPOILER HEAVY!

There was much trumpeting about this episode, as it was written and directed by Quentin Tarantino. Now, "Pulp Fiction" and "Kill Bill Vols 1 & 2" were excellent fun and I loved them to bits, but I did wonder if he was really the right kinda guy to direct for TV. Turns out he wasn't really. And also, rather worryingly, he seems in danger of becoming a one-trick pony. The episode, stretched into a double length show, had its moments and the lead cast were uniformly excellent as always. However, there were some "cute" QT tricks lifted straight out his films that jarred and just didn't work in that context. "The conversation" where a guy explains something to his buddy(s)(a la the scenes with Travolta and Jackson in "Pulp Fiction") was used twice, once for a strange "what happened last night" conversation between Warrick and Nick, and an even stranger Old Timers conversation between Tony Curtis and Frank Gorshin (The Riddler in the Adam West Batman TV show) which was totally gratuitous. Even more so, was the post mortem scene where Nick hallucinates he's being cut up by the CSI docs was just a "WTF"? trademark bloody QT moment. It wasn't even spooky just made me mutter "Oh lordy, QT, put the ketchup down and move on with the story, ok?" So yeh, QT needs to try and find some new tricks. And what is it with him and people being buried alive anyway? Got a lil' psychosis brewing there, Quentin ol' pal? Mitchy rating: 3 out of 5

Now THIS was more like it! An corking episode to follow the extremely strange "It was all a dream" episode of the previous week. Vivian has her heart surgery and the rest of the team deal with some African insurgents planning a hit on US soil. Nothing startlingly original but it was well done, if you know what I mean. And the ending, well, ok, I totally didn't expect them to do a twist. Instead of the cliffhanger being about Vivian and OMGdidshesurvivethesurgerywtfBBQ!!, it was Martin and Danny ferrying the political activist by car to wherever and two gunmen leaping from a van and riddling the car with machine guns. You didn't see the bullets hitting the car, so you have, da-dum!, no idea if Danny and Martin are ok!. I hate cliffhangers. This would have got a 5 without the clilffhanger. Mitchy rating: 4 out of 5

Now we're cooking! This episode did everything right. Firstly, it tied up a couple of loose ends to do with Lily's sister, albeit a bit briefly. I'd have liked to have seen a meatier scene dealing with the aftermath, but hey, at least they dealt with it instead of ignoring it as many shows would have. Secondly, it resolved an open episode from earlier in the season, bringing back John "Dr Phlox" Billingsley's terrifying serial killer for a taut, spooky, atmospheric chiller of an episode that darn well better have repercussions in the next season or I'll hurt them. Billingsley was outstanding, as he had been in the earlier ep and if this doesn't get him an Emmy nod for best guest actor in a series, it'll be a ('scuse pun) crime. Mitchy rating: 5 out of 5, for making me want to take a teddy bear to bed with me and leave the lights on.

Ahahahahahahahahahaha! Oh dear. Where to start? No, actually, I won't bother. I'll sum it up the same way I described it to lithium_doll: In this episode, which brought to a head a half-season long arc, Horatio Caine finally comes face to face with the much loved brother he thought was dead. David Caruso did a great job acting this emotionally tense scene - he took his sunglasses off twice to convey his deep, deep emotion. Bleh. A so-so bitty ep that tried to do too much and did none of it well. At the end, Calleigh Dusquene is seen taking her name plate off the roster board and walking away as if she's quitting - well the poor girl did have a cop she was fond off commit suicide in her gun lab. And then have his brain matter that was splattered on the ceiling, drip blood onto her crisp white lab coat sometime later, after everything was supposed to have been cleaned up. Right. Anyway, if Emily Proctor does leave, that's it, I'll refuse to watch Miami even for the comedy value. Unless I hear there is a major fight between Delko ("I only talk like this because I'm stupid) and Wolfe "I am stupid but I sound smarter than Delko", in which case I might download that one episode. Mitchy rating: 3 out of 5, for the comedy. 1.5 if we talking quality.

This series has been my favourite new show to watch this year. Hugh Laurie has done an outstanding job and, by and large, the writers have backed him up. Sadly, this episode was....lacking. I can't quite put my finger on it but I'd have to agree with ladysorka that it lacked the punch required for a season finale. You don't need cliffhangers to lure people back next season but you DO need an episode that leaves you gagging for more and wailing "That's the last one??? Oh woe! How will I survive the summer without my lovable, snarky House?" This episode wasn't it :P Cameron annoyed me so badly that I wanted to punch something, anything, to relieve my frustration. The ex- wife storyline was sort of well handled, but I'm not wild about her being a character next season. And there was not enough Wilson. I love Wilson! Frankly, they should have aired this last week, and "Three Stories" this week. Now THAT would have been a season finale. Mitchy rating: 4 out of 5. It was still good, just not a good season finale :)

Off to Exeter this weekend. I must force my lazy ass out later and purchase my tickets. Must, must reserve a seat for the journey back too, or it'll be a nightmare. I've finally decided to travel down by train, as the roads to the south coast on a bank holiday weekend are the equivalent of a circle of Hell. Heading down Saturday morning, coming back sometime Monday afternoon/evening. Should be great fun, assuming I survive the Demon Barman. :)