Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Thursdays, I will be reviewing Highway to Heaven, which aired on NBC from 1984 to 1989. The entire show is currently streaming on Tubi and several other services!
This week’s episode made me cry.
Episode 3.10 “Man to Man”
(Dir by Michael Landon, originally aired on November 26th, 1986)
As so often happens on this show, the episode begins with Mark visiting an old friend. Luke Morgan (Joe Dorsey) grew up with Mark but, while Mark became a blue collar policeman, Luke went on to become a fabulously wealthy tycoon. That actually seems a bit odd to me. I mean, why has Mark never mentioned having a millionaire friend before? All of the times that Jonathan and Mark have had to deal with other millionaires, Mark has always acted like he’s had no experience being around wealthy people. Now, suddenly, we discover that Mark just happens to have a millionaire friend?
Anyway, Luke invites Jonathan and Mark to stay at his mansion and that’s a good thing because Luke is their mission for the week. Luke devoted so much time to building up his business that he often wasn’t around when his son, Gary (Lee Montgomery, the kid who got crushed by the chimney in Burnt Offerings), was growing up. Now Gary is in his twenties and his relationship with his father is strained. Gary spends all of time lifting weights and working with his computers. Luke wants to take a road trip with Gary but Gary refuses. Mark makes a bet with Gary. If Mark can lift more weight than Gary, Gary will go on the trip. Jonathan temporarily gives Mark “the stuff.” Mark wins the bet. Gary goes on the trip!
Luke, it turns out, is dying. He has Leukemia and he doesn’t have much time left. He wants to patch things up with his son before he dies but he doesn’t want Gary to know that he’s dying. Mark, realizing that Gary needs to know, tells Gary anyway. Gary accuses Mark of lying but then he realizes that his father actually is dying. Gary stops being a brat and he and his father enjoy their last road trip together. Eventually, Gary reveals that he knows the truth. He knows that Luke is dying. Gary finally says that he loves his father and Luke says the loves his child.
And that’s pretty much the episode! This was a pretty simple episode but it still made me cry. It makes me think about all the people in my life who have passed on. Every moment that you have with someone is precious and I think that people tend to take those moments for granted. You never know when someone could get into a wreck while trying to drive home from the store. I know when my Dad was in his car accident last May, I never expected him to die in August. I’d give anything to have those final moments back.
This episode is sentimental and earnest and heavy-handed but it is also an example of what Highway to Heaven does so well.
The Sundance Film Festival is currently underway in Utah. For the next few days, I’ll be taking a look at some of the films that have previously won awards at Sundance.
1983’s Last Night At The Alamo is the epitome of an indie film. Filmed in black-and-white and populated with performers who possess a raw authenticity, Last Night of the Alamo takes place over the course of one long day and night.
A seedy Houston bar known as The Alamo is set to close down and the regulars come by for their final drinks. It’s definitely a blue collar bar, a place where the conversations are loud and it seems like there’s always a possibility that a fight could break out at any minute. Claude (Lou Perryman) shows up after getting kicked out by his wife and spends a good deal of the movie yelling and cursing into a telephone. Ichabod (Steve Mattila), a young exterminator, spends almost the entire movie arguing with his girlfriend, Mary (Tina-Bess Hubbard). Steve (J. Michael Hammond) is an adult who still has the personality of a high school bully. For all the arguing and the taunting and the cursing that one hears over the course of the film, it’s also obvious that the regulars at the Alamo have formed a community of sorts. No one is surprised when Claude starts yelling into the telephone. That’s just Claude being Claude and he’s allowed to have his breakdown in peace. As long as he doesn’t interrupt anyone else’s drinking, he’ll be tolerated. It’s a very Texas attitude but then again, Last Night At The Alamo is a very Texas film.
It was written by Kim Henkel, who is probably best-known for writing the screenplay for the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. (Henkel also appears in the film.) Director Eagle Pennell was one of the pioneers of the Texas film scene, making independent films about life in his home state. (Robert Redford has said that one of the main reasons he started the Sundance Film Festival was because he was impressed with Pennell’s films and wanted to create something that would bring attention to indie filmmakers like Pennell.) Much like many of the characters in Last Night At The Alamo, Pennell struggled with alcoholism and his promising career fizzled out as a result. He died at the age of 49. Legend has it that, shortly before his death, he was seen standing on a Houston streetcorner with a sign asking for either “a rich woman or a warm beer.” Again, it’s a very Texas story.
The majority of the characters in Last Night At The Alamo look up to the bar’s best-known regular, Cowboy Regan (Sonny Carl Davis). Cowboy is handsome and friendly, with a quick smile and a confident manner that makes him stand-out amongst the regulars at the Alamo. He presents himself as being successful and connected and he claims that he has a friend in Austin who is going to save The Alamo from demolition. Deep down, Cowboy is just as desperate as everyone else at the bar but he does a far better job of hiding it. The others look up to him not so much because they believe his stories but because they want to believe them.
It’s an almost plotless film but it does a great job of capturing my home state, with its blue collar culture and its frequent embrace of hucksters like Cowboy. Watching the film, one can see why it’s a favorite of Richard Linklater’s. It’s a melancholy film in many regards. Most of the characters don’t have much going for themselves. But they do have their bar and they have the community that they bult for themselves. The Alamo may be closing but life will continue just as surely as Ichabod and Mary will start and end every day yelling at each other.
Last Night At The Alamo was a prize winner at the 1984 Sundance Film Festival, winning the Dramatic Jury Prize. It can be found, in all of its grainy black-and-white glory, on YouTube.
First released in 1990 and continuously acclaimed ever since, Goodfellas did not win the Oscar for Best Picture.
I’m always a bit surprised whenever I remember that. Goodfellas didn’t win Best Picture? That just doesn’t seem right. It’s not the other films nominated that year were bad but Goodfellas was so brilliant that it’s hard to imagine someone actually voting for something else. Seriously, it’s hard to think of a film that has been more influential than Goodfellas. Every gangster film with a soundtrack of kitschy tunes from the 6os and 70s owes huge debt to Goodfellas. Every actor who has ever been cast as a wild and out-of-control psycho gangster owes a debt to Joe Pesci’s performance as Tommy DeVito. When Ray Liotta passed away two years ago, we all immediately heard him saying, “I always wanted to be a gangster.” Robert De Niro’s Jimmy Conway remains the epitome of the ruthless gangster. For many, Paul Sorvino’s neighborhood godfather redefined what it meant to be a crime boss. Lorraine Bracco made such an impression as Karen Hill that it somehow seemed appropriate that she was one of the first people cast in The Sopranos, a show that itself would probably have not existed if not for Goodfellas. Frank Sivero, Samuel L. Jackson, Tobin Bell, Debi Mazer, Vincent Gallo, Ileana Douglas, Frank Vincent, Tony Sirico, Michael Imperioli, Tony Darrow, Mike Starr, Chuck Low, all of them can be seen in Goodfellas. It’s a film that many still consider to be the best of Martin Scorsese’s legendary career. Who can forget Robert De Niro smoking that cigarette while Sunshine of Your Love blared on the soundtrack? Who can forget “Maury’s wigs don’t come off!” or “Rossi, you are nothing but whore!?” Who can forget the cheery Christmas music playing in the background while De Niro’s Jimmy Conway grows more and more paranoid after pulling off the biggest heist of his career?
Plus, it’s a Christmas movie!
And yet, it did not win Best Picture.
Myself, whenever I’m sitting behind a garbage truck in traffic, I immediately start to hear the piano coda from Layla. For that matter, whenever I see a helicopter in the sky, I flash back to a coke-addled Henry Hill getting paranoid as he tries to pick up his brother from the hospital. Whenever I see someone walking across the street in the suburbs, I remember the scene where Henry coolly pistol-whips the country club guy and then tells Karen to hide his gun. I always remember Karen saying that she knows that many of her best friends would have run off as soon as their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide but “it turned me on.” It would have turned me on as well. Henry might be a gangster and his friends might be murderers but he doesn’t make any apologies for who he is, unlike everyone else in the world.
But it did not win Best Picture.
How many people have imitated Joe Pesci saying, “How am I funny?” How many times did Pesci and Frank Vincent have to listen to people telling them to “go home and get your fucking shinebox?” A lot of people remember the brutality of the scene where Pesci and De Niro team up to attack Vincent’s crude gangster but I always remember the sound of Donavon’s Atlantis playing on the soundtrack.
And then there’s Catherine Scorsese, showing up as Tommy’s mom and cooking for everyone while Vincent struggles to escape from the trunk of a car. “He is content to be a jerk,” Tommy says about Henry Hill. Just a few hours earlier, Tommy was apologizing to Henry for getting blood on his floor.
Goodfellas is a fast-paced look at organized crime, spanning from the 50s to the early 80s. Ray Liotta plays Henry Hill, who goes from idolizing gangsters to being a gangster to ultimately fearing his associates after he gets busted for dealing drugs. It’s a dizzying film, full of so many classic scenes and lines that it feels almost pointless to try to list them all here or to pretend like whoever is reading this review doesn’t remember the scene where the camera pans through the club and we meet the members of the crew. (“And then there was Pete The Killer….”) Goodfellas is a film that spend two hours showing us how much fun being a gangster can be and then thirty minutes showing us just how bad it can get when you’re high on coke, the police are after you, and you’ve recently learned that your associates are willing to kill even their oldest friends. No matter how many times I watch Goodfellas, I always get very anxious towards the end of the film. With the music pounding and the camera spinning, with Henry looking for helicopters, and with all of his plans going wrong over the course of one day, it’s almost a relief when Bo Dietl points that gun at Henry’s head and yells at him, revealing that Henry has been captured by the cops and not the Gambinos. Karen desperately running through the house, flushing drugs and hiding a gun in her underwear, always leaves me unsettled. It’s such a nice house but now, everything is crashing down.
There’s a tendency to compare Goodfellas to The Godfather, as their both films that re-imagine American history and culture through the lens of the gangster genre. I think they’re both great but I also think that they are ultimately two very different films. If The Godfather is sweeping and operatic, Goodfellas is the film that reminds us that gangsters also live in the suburbs and go to cookouts and that their wives take care of the kids and watch movies while the FBI searches their home. If The Godfather is about the bosses, Goodfellas is about the blue collar soldiers. The Godfather represents what we wish the Mafia was like while Goodfellas represents the reality.
Goodfellas is one of the greatest films ever made but it lost the Best Picture Oscar to Dances With Wolves, a film that left audiences feeling good as opposed to anxious. To be honest, Martin Scorsese losing Best Director to Kevin Costner feels like an even bigger injustice than Goodfellas losing Best Picture. One can understand the desire to reward Dances With Wolves, a film that attempts to correct a decades worth of negative stereotypes about Native Americans. But Scorsese’s direction was so brilliant that it’s truly a shame that he didn’t win and that Lorraine Bracco didn’t win Best Supporting Actress. It’s also a shame that Ray Liotta wasn’t nominated for playing Henry Hill. At least Joe Pesci won an Oscar for redefining what it meant to be a gangster.
Goodfellas is proof that the best film doesn’t always win at the Oscars. But it’s also proof that a great film doesn’t need an Oscar to be remembered.
Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Thursdays, I will be reviewing Malibu CA, which aired in Syndication in 1998 and 1999. The entire show is currently streaming on YouTube!
This week, Jason and Scott do something stupid!
Episode 1.25 “The Yacht”
(Dir by Gary Shimokawa, originally aired on May 16th, 1999)
Because they’re dumbasses, Scott and Jason accidentally destroy their father’s new watch. At first, they try to do the right thing and buy him a new watch. But it turns out that watch cost $2,000!
How can they possibly raise $2,000?
Hey, here’s an idea! Maybe they can just borrow Murray’s yacht and throw a casino night! (Actually, the yacht belongs to Murray’s father but whatever.) Surely, that’ll be enough to raise $2,000!
Uhmm …. hey, guys? Let’s think about this logically. It’s a casino night. Now, admittedly, you’ve got the yacht for free because it belongs to Murray’s Dad. Still, you have to rent (or buy) all of the slot machines, roulette wheels, and poker tables that are necessary for a casino night. You have to pay the dealers at each table. You probably have to pay security to keep an eye on all the money that’s floating around. You have to pay for all the refreshments. If you have the money to put on a casino night then guess what? YOU’VE GOT THE MONEY TO REPLACE YOUR DAD’S WATCH!
Good Lord, this show is stupid!
Anyway, Murray shows up at casino night wearing a white captain’s uniform and for once, I agreed with the audiences applause. Murray looked good! Brandon Brooks has been this season’s saving grace and he was the best thing about this episode. Unfortunately, Murray panics when he hears that his father is coming home early. He tries to steer the yacht back to the docks and instead, he accidentally hits a reef. The $2,000,000 yacht sinks!
We have spent this entire season hearing about what a monster Murray’s Dad is. This is the first episode in which he actually appears and he turns out to actually be a pretty cool guy. Yes, he’s upset that his yacht sank. And yes, Murray’s in some trouble. But Murray’s dad says he’s still proud of Murray for taking responsibility. Awww, what a great guy!
And what a stupid episode!
Actually, speaking of stupid, check out the B-plot. Stads wants to star in a film about lifeguard training. Since Traycee’s an actress, she agrees to teach Stads how to perform on camera. Stads accepts Traycee’s help but doesn’t ever really seem to appreciate it. As you can probably guess, Traycee ends up with the role and Stads gets even more upset. At this point, I’m a little bit bored with episodes that center around Stads getting upset about stuff. Stads is always upset about something. Even when something good happens to her, Stads gets upset about it. Stads started out as an interesting character but, halfway through the season, the show’s writers decided to just make her into a permanent killjoy.
Speaking of killing joy, this season is nearly over! Next week, season one comes to a close.
This morning’s Oscar nominations were dominated by Netflix’s Emilia Perez, which picked up a total of 13 nominations. Though it has yet to win an Oscar for Best Picture, Netflix has definitely picked up its game over the past few years. Every year, there’s a major contender that’s produced and released by Netflix. The Irishman, Marriage Story, Power of the Dog, Maestro, they were all films that were heavily pushed by Netflix. This year, Netflix actually had many potential contenders but, in the end, it put its full weight behind Emilia Perez and it paid off this morning. Whether it will pay off on Oscar night had yet to be seen.
Unfortunately, that means there a few Netflix films that got pushed to the side. As many mentioned this morning, Angelina Jolie’s performance in Netflix’s Maria was ignored, despite having been viewed as an Oscar lock just a few months ago. The Piano Lesson also failed to pick up a nomination for Danielle Deadwyler. Myself, I wish that Netflix would have just spent a bit more time pushing a film called Woman Of The Hour.
Woman of the Hour is the directorial debut of Anna Kendrick and it’s about as far from the light-hearted world of Pitch Perfect as one can get. Based on a true story, the 70s-set film features Kendrick as Sheryl Bradshaw, an aspiring actress who goes on The Dating Game and asks questions to three contestants, not knowing that Bachelor #3 is actually a serial killer named Rodney Alcala (Daniel Zovatto).
The film jumps back and forth in time, mixing Sheryl’s appearance on the tacky game show with the horrific crimes of Rodney Alcala. On the show, Sheryl grows frustrated with the stupid, pre-written questions that she’s been handed and instead, she starts asking her own questions. The three “bachelors” are taken by surprise but only Alcala is able to keep up with Sheryl. Separated from Sheryl and just hearing her questions, Alcala manages to sound like an intelligent and interesting human being. (As with most serial killers, Alcala is a master manipulator and knows what to say to put people at ease.) It’s only after Sheryl selects him and they have a face-to-face meeting that Sheryl comes to realize that Alcala is not the man he presented himself as being.
The film’s style might seem disjointed to some. Woman of the Hour is full of flashbacks and flashforwards. The empty glitz of the Dating Game and Sheryl’s refusal to play dumb for the approval of the show’s producers is contrasted with the brutality of Alcala’s crimes. It’s a technique that builds a sense of dread and inevitability. Sheryl may not know who Bachelor #3 is but we do and it’s hard not to worry when it becomes obvious that he’s the bachelor she’s going to pick. Even more importantly, the film contrasts the show’s casual misogyny with Alcala’s own hatred of women. Kendrick uses the film to comment on the everyday fears women navigate, from the casual sexism of the show’s producers to the outright danger of a predator like Rodney Alcala. There’s a poignant scene where Sheryl encounters a casting director’s crass comments about her body, undoubtedly reflecting the real-life experiences Kendrick herself has faced. (“I’m sure they look fine,” one smarmy producer says after Sheryl explains that she doesn’t do nude scenes.) This is a thriller but it’s also a critique wrapped in suspense.
Woman of the Hour is a compelling watch, not just for its thrilling narrative but for its heart-wrenching look at the vulnerability of women in a predatory world. Kendrick proves herself as a director with a voice, one that’s both fresh and deeply personal. Woman of the Hour is a film worth 94 minutes of your time.
Hey, you know what would be fun? How about a music video shot in the middle of a really depressing city? For whatever reason, depressing music videos have been an important component of more than a few music videos. In this one, it adds a layer of meaning to the song, a layer that probably was not there before.
Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Wednesdays, I will be reviewing Monsters, which aired in syndication from 1988 to 1991. The entire series is streaming on YouTube.
This week, Monsters goes to Vietnam.
Episode 3.6 “The Hole”
(Dir by David Severeid, originally aired on November 4th, 1990)
At the height of the Vietnam War, two U.S. Marines and their guide stumble upon a hole in the middle of a deserted village. Lowering themselves into the hole, they find a complex maze of tunnels. The Viet Cong dug the tunnels so that they could move and smuggle weapons without being seen by their enemies. But as the guide (played by Glenn Kubota) explains it, they dug their tunnels so deep that they awakened a far more evil power.
More evil than communism? This is a scary episode!
Soon, Sgt. Kenner (Ahmad Rashad) and Corporal Torres (Antone Pagan) find themselves being pursued through the tunnels by zombies. Kenner is determined to fight and destroy as many of the undead as possible. Torres just wants to get out of the tunnels. But it turns out that finding their way out is not as easy as Kenner and Torres assumed it would be. And the men are definitely at a disadvantage because the zombies know the maze. The maze is their home.
This episode is surprisingly straight-forward. There aren’t any huge twists or anything of that sort. Three men enter a tunnel system and find themselves being pursued by zombies. The underground maze of tunnels is properly atmospheric location and I did jump a few times when the zombies suddenly appeared coming around a corner. The zombie makeup was well-done and this episode was a bit gorier than the average episode of Monsters. The special effects brought to mind the grotesque imagery of the Italian zombie films. This episode owed quite a bit to the legacy of Lucio Fulci.
That said, I do wish the episode had been a bit more surprising. It was so straight-forward that it actually become a bit predictable. I’ve seen enough George Romero films to know exactly what was going to happen to each person who entered the maze. The episode was brutally effective but it’s still hard not to feel that the plot needed an unexpected twist that just didn’t come. In fact, as I watched the episode, I found myself thinking about how a film like Cannibal Apocalypse managed to make a powerful statement about the horror of war by portraying Vietnam vets who had been infected by the cannibal virus while serving in the conflict. I also thought about how Fulci, at his best, crafted zombie films that reminded us of just how fragile the human body actually is. There wasn’t much subtext to found in The Hole and that’s a shame because often the most interesting thing about a zombie story is the subtext.
Still, the episode worked in its own crude way. The undead are frightening, no matter where they appear.
Based on a novel by James Jones (and technically, a sequel of sorts to From Here To Eternity), 1998’s The Thin Red Line is one of those Best Picture nominees that people seem to either love or hate.
Those who love it point out that the film is visually stunning and that director Terrence Malick takes a unique approach to portraying both the Battle of Guadalcanal and war in general. Whereas Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan told a rather traditional story about the tragedy of war (albeit with much more blood than previous World War II films), The Thin Red Line used the war as a way to consider the innocence of nature and the corrupting influence of mankind. “It’s all about property,” one shell-shocked soldier shouts in the middle of a battle and later, as soldiers die in the tall green grass of the film’s island setting, a baby bird hatches out of an egg. Malick’s film may have been an adaptation of James Jones’s novel but its concerns were all pure Malick, right down to the philosophical voice-overs that were heard throughout the film.
Those who dislike the film point out that it moves at a very deliberate pace and that we don’t really learn much about the characters that the film follows. In fact, with everyone wearing helmets and running through the overgrown grass, it’s often difficult to tell who is who. (One gets the feeling that deliberate on Malick’s point.) They complain that the story is difficult to follow. They point out that the parade of star cameos can be distracting. And they also complain that infantrymen who are constantly having to look out for enemy snipers would not necessarily be having an inner debate about the spirituality of nature.
I will agree that the cameos can be distracting. John Cusack, for example, pops up out of nowhere, plays a major role for a few minutes, and then vanishes from the film. The sight of John Travolta playing an admiral is also a bit distracting, if just because Travolta’s mustache makes him look a bit goofy. George Clooney appears towards the end of the film and delivers a somewhat patronizing lecture to the men under his command. Though his role was apparently meant to be much larger, Adrien Brody ends up two lines of dialogue and eleven minutes of screentime in the film’s final cut.
That said, The Thin Red Line works for me. The film is not meant to be a traditional war film and it’s not necessarily meant to be a realistic recreation of the Battle of Guadalcanal. Instead, it’s a film that plays out like a dream and, when viewed a dream, the philosophical voice overs and the scenes of eerie beauty all make sense. Like the majority of Malick’s films, The Thin Red Line is ultimately a visual poem. The plot is far less important than how the film is put together. It’s a film that immerses you in its world. Even the seeming randomness of the film’s battles and deaths fits together in a definite patten. It’s a Malick film. It’s not for everyone but those who are attuned to Malick’s wavelength will appreciate it even if they don’t understand it.
And while Malick does definitely put an emphasis on the visuals, he still gets some good performances out of his cast. Nick Nolte is chilling as the frustrated officer who has no hesitation about ordering his men to go on a suicide mission. Elias Koteas is genuinely moving as the captain whose military career is ultimately sabotaged by his kind nature. Sean Penn is surprisingly convincing as a cynical sergeant while Jim Caviezel (playing the closest thing the film has to a main character) gets a head start on humanizing messianic characters by playing the most philosophical of the soldiers. Ben Chaplin spends most of his time worrying about his wife back home and his fantasies give us a glimpse of what’s going on in America while its soldiers fight and die overseas.
The Thin Red Line was the first of Terrence Malick’s films to be nominated for Best Picture and it was one of three World War II films to be nominated that year. However, it lost to Shakespeare In Love.
The Oscar nominations are due to be announced tomorrow and right now, I think everyone’s waiting to see who will be the next big thing. In honor of the occasion, here is Tony Wickes and the California Dreams with today’s song of the day.
Kemp Spicer (Warren Oates) rides into town and runs into Marian Starett (Jill Ireland) and her father-in-law Tom Starett (Tom Tully) who are there visiting the local blacksmith. Spicer likes what he sees when he looks at Marian, and proceeds to make some creepy advances. He then asks if they know a guy named Shane. When they ask Spicer why he wants to know, he says that him and his family are going to kill him. After Marian and Tom tell Shane (David Carradine) about what they were told, Shane heads into town. He wants to know why they want to kill him, as well as keep the Spicers away from the Starett ranch. When he arrives at Sam Grafton’s saloon, Boon Spicer (Charles Kuenstie) tells him that they are there to get vengeance for Shane killing their brother Joey four years earlier in Abilene. Shane never killed anyone in Abilene so he knows that someone is mistaken, or just flat out lying. Soon other members of the Spicer family arrive in town, led by their Bible-quoting uncle Joshua Spicer (Cliff Osmond). Shane knows he’s going to have to take on these men even though he’s innocent of their family member’s death. He just wants to make sure they don’t go out to the Starett ranch and put the family in danger.
Episode 4 of Shane has our biggest co-star yet, in Warren Oates. It’s fun seeing his Kemp Spicer creep around making threats against Shane, making advances towards Marian, and then questioning whether or not they’re even after the right guy. Cliff Osmond is memorable and interesting as Uncle Joshua Spicer who puts their family honor above everything else. This episode also sees Shane getting some help as he takes on the Spicer clan in the final shootout. This help comes from Tom Starett and Rufe Ryker (Bert Freed), the local foe of the family. I don’t expect this means Ryker has turned good, but he definitely prefers Shane over those “hillbillies” he ran out of the area years earlier. Finally, we continue to learn of Marian’s feelings for Shane in this episode. At one point, she’s willing to leave the entire ranch behind if it keeps Shane safe. Shane doesn’t hear her say this, but her father-in-law remarks that he never realized she loved Shane that much.
I found episode 4 to be an entertaining episode. It features good performances from interesting co-stars. It also makes a good point about how an innocent lie can take on a life of its own and lead to unintended consequences. I’ll be looking forward to Episode 5!
Through the Shattered Lens 