No one gives a shit anymore about character development or continuity or basic logic, and, honestly, that's for the best. I know enough now not to care whether Sean and Julia are together or apart, because by the end of the series, they'll arbitrarily be one or the other, and nothing that's happening right now will hold any significance two episodes from now, let alone two seasons.
I'm sure I've said this already, but Christian's fickleness is like Sean and Julia's but on amphetamines. In the span of a single episode, Christian will offer to donate his kidney to Liz, and then trick Kimber into having sex with him before cruelly mocking her for doing so, just 'cause. It's clear that we're supposed to think that Christian is complex and multi-layered, when he's really just bipolar.
It doesn't help that Julian McMahon's acting gets pretty choppy when he's not hissing caustic rejoinders through his overly-bleached teeth. Christian's eulogy for Mrs. Grubman, delivered to an empty church, made me sweaty-armpit embarrassed for him. Her sauna seems to exist for the express purpose of supplying us with thoroughly unsexy scenes between her and Matt because Kimber can't go more than one episode without fucking a McNamara or a Troy. Christian's Dream About every third episode, we get to revisit Christian's random gay anxieties.
Sure, he's having as much sex with hookers and strippers as usual, but Brooke Shields suggested he might be gay for Sean for no reason whatsoever, so now it's a season-long concern. The height of gay panic comes during Christian's dream in which these gangbang scene partners follow Christian around like fabulous grim reapers: We know they're gay because they're hairless and carrying a volleyball. All gay men are prepared to recreate that Top Gun scene at all times.
Jacqueline Bisset As An Organ-Stealing Madam Named James I'm not as familiar with Jacqueline Bisset's oeuvre -- beyond her seven-hour journey to collect her Golden Globe last year -- as I should be, but I can only imagine what she's capable of considering the high bars of camp she's clearing here, sultrily delivering lines like, "I knew a sophisticated man like yourself would appreciate a fine, aged vintage.
I like that she's not a Perfect Evil Genius, tricking them at every turn. It allows Bisset to play with different shades, from desperation while she's being doused in gas by her employers in one scene to ersatz bravado while she's trying to steal Christian's kidney in the next. Being Kimber's Scientolo-lover is actually giving Matt some perspective!
Christian, for instance, is basically a hetero caveman interpretation of Brian Kinney. Just as Justin pinballed from gay subgroup to gay subgroup as the series progressed -- one week he's learning about AIDS from a bunch of drag queens and the next week he's policing the streets with a murder-hungry gang of twinks -- Matt finds new ways of dealing with the anxieties of growing up from week to week.
Last season he was a white supremacist for a hot minute, and now he's a fully indoctrinated Scientologist. Mario Lopez's Butt It finally showed up!
It's all he's good for. All he wanted to do was buy bigger balls, and somehow he ended up blackmailing Christian into boning his wife.
This, like everything else bad that happens to Christian this season, is somehow Brooke Shields's fault. Escobar Redux I wasn't sure why Sean suddenly started hallucinating Escobar again until his reemergence later in the season as a burn victim seeking Sean and Christian's help. After Merrill helps Escobar his prison "wife" blackmail our protagonists, Sean and Christian turn him into this: Escobar is like the boss you beat halfway through the game only to find out that the pit of lava you tossed him into has given him special lava-blast powers.
What I can't believe is that you ate a pot brownie and started fantasizing a bunch of ex-characters fucking on your year-old mistress's bed. This is not a rhetorical question; I genuinely don't know.
He's a lot of fun on Game Of Thrones, but here he's a hodgepodge of confused brooding and over-earnestness. Besides, it's hard for me to focus on any of Peter Dinklage's scenes due to the surfeit of hair on his face and head. I've just shown you every face Peter Dinklage makes on this show. Rosie will always fascinate me. Like with her soon-to-be-ex-View co-host, Whoopi, I somehow always forget that she's technically an actress.
I find it incredibly distracting whenever either of them pops up in something that's not a Depends commercial or a PSA for bullying. But Rosie playing a heightened version of herself -- which, really, is the only character she's ever played -- is always fun. By the time Rosie O'Donnell's ear is sliced off by motorcycle hooligans in Boca Raton, I knew we were in for a good time.
This list could have just been ten things that Rosie says or does during her two episodes. Instead, I'll leave you with this: I am not a crackpot.