This week’s Arrow was a cleverly-disguised springboard for a tremendous amount of action on the character-development front. I was initially all excited about the part where Felicity finds a bleeding Oliver in her car, takes him to the lair where she and Diggs patch him up and maybe she becomes part of the team.
Our show began this week rather like something from National Geographic or Animal Planet, as we were given a brief glimpse into the curious behaviors of Domestic Dean, a heretofore unknown creature of some guile and amusement whom it appears is quite adept at interior design and the culinary arts.
When this show remembers it has a new villain to play with, it can be so much fun! Liam returns to mess a little with Josh and Nora’s not-so-happy relationship, threaten Aidan, and generally be fabulous.
There’s something inherently funny about Rumpy vs. The TSA. Rumpy, the guy who is the root cause of all that has been amiss with Storybrooke and Fairy Tale Land, the guy who everyone is afraid of…. still has to take off his shoes at the airport.
Rick Grimes is a racist buttbrain, everyone is Woodbury is an idiot, and I’m so bored that stop paying attention and start thinking about The West Wing.
You know what, my back side hurts so bad I have to use one of those donut things. Wanna know why? Because Arrow was so awesome last week it kicked my butt. That’s right, I am not joking (well, I am about the donut).
It’s nice to know that some things never change…and that some things do, like television writers. Otherwise this week’s episode would have been another bust, but thankfully, we had our good ole show back.
This is one of those moments where you realize that our popular culture has finally gone over the cliff on the sex vs. violence debate. We can have heroes who kill, but people who have sex and like it? They are Satan and must be destroyed, the better to make the non-sexy couples look like saints.
I wonder if “Matter of Time” was the episode where the writing team had to defer to some executive’s husband’s nephew, who was only let in the door so the executive could get her husband to shut the hell up for five minutes. I’ll call this nephew “Carl”.