D-FW on DVR: GCB, Big Rich Texas, and Idol Had Gusto. Plus, the Top TV Moments
GCB The latest episode ends with Kristin Chenoweth strung up and flying around a sanctuary in an angel costume. Not that the show needs a reason for such ridiculousness -- its believability factor was happily thrown out the window before the pilot even aired. But having most of the latest action center around a church musical is yet another way to bring all these zany Dallas character types together for Steel Magnolias-level melodrama, minus the casualties. Cliffhanger-type plots and tear-jerking moments just don't work for such a cartoonish, one-liner-filled production. And I'm OK with that. In fact, if ABC doesn't suddenly lose its Disney-fied heart, I predict that GCB will be blessed with a second season. That's right. I'm stepping out there. Being bold. Annie Potts would be proud.
Big Rich Texas Wow, all I can say is that I took one look at post-surgery Bonnie and decided I will never let a doctor "throw in" a laser treatment with any procedure I get. That rich bitch looked to' up from the flo' up. In fact, thinking of her bruised face and even more incoherent ramblings, I almost forgot that there's daughter drama bubbling up. Seems Bon's li'l 24-year-old princess Whitney has moved into the L.A. digs of evil witch Pam's daughter, Hannah. Pam ain't havin' that shit. You look up "bad influence" in the dictionary, and you see a picture of Whitney. (Spare me the trollitude -- I realize you you can't actually look up "bad influence" in the dictionary.) After failing to convince Hannah to kick Whitney to the curb, Pam calls up Bonnie, succeeds only in confusing her. It's the Vicodin. Ving ving!
American Idol Gotta give it to McKinney's Hollie Cavanagh. She managed to pull out just enough gusto to keep her safe this week, crying at side-stage as unexpected evictee Colton Dixon sang his last serenade to the Almighty. And, despite landing in the bottom three again, Hollie did earn her right to stay another week. Taking on Adele seemed ill-advised at first, but her voice was big enough to roll in the sufficiently deep. And her second song, "Son of a Preacher Man," couldn't have been more puhh-fect for a reserved young'un who's been urged to let loose more. Maybe she'll be back in danger next week, but kudos for now. At least she's trying.
My top TV moments this week ...
Believe it or not, I do watch shows that aren't set in or somehow related to North Texas. Here are a few highlights from my stories: -- Parts 1 and 2 of the Real Housewives of Atlanta reunion pretty much trumped every other DVR recording. Listening to women argue over who's richest might seem like a bore, but throw NeNe into the situation and you've got segment after segment of reality gold. Her pronunciation of "dildo." Her public shaming of Sheree. Her continued insistence that "I don't give a shit." Can next season just be one long reunion?
-- Pete Campbell became quite the tragic figure on Mad Men this week, din'he? I almost teared up right along with him in that elevator as he poured out his soul to Don. Yet, it was strangely satisfying to see Lane kick his ever-lovin' ass. Same goes for watching Don fix a sink in an undershirt. "Look, it's Superman."
-- I did enjoy the debut of new HBO woe-is-millennial series Girls, but not one second of it was as fun as the scene in this week's Game of Thrones in which the secretly gay, wannabe king is put on front street by his new wifey. Props to her for offering to bring in that extra aid. Anything for an heir, riiiight?
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