First off, Channel Seven are bastards. They wickedly and deliberately started Angel early, causing me to miss the end of Without a Trace, and an Eric Close scene, at that. Grrr. Still, it was a very predictable WaT, don't think much of EC's new 'do and how many times can I hear that version of Mad World in one goddamn freaking week? I mean, I love the song, love that version, but enough already. Donnie Darko, fair enough, that's the source, but it's popped up in Smallville, Without a Trace... if there are unhappy high school kids then it means Mad World, apparently. How to create a cliche very, very quickly.
Secondly: Channel Seven were deservedly punished for their trangressions from on high. So during WaT this mad, bad bugger of a storm blows in from like nowhere so I miss chunks of plot (lucky I knew who dunnit and why, then) as I race around slamming shut windows (all wide open on account of the sticky heat) and then the lightning starts tearing down, hitting the tree outside my room again with the sound of tearing canvas, followed by an almighty crack.
Then there's an enormous flash of pure white light at the top of the hill and crash, bink, no more Channel Seven. Which wouldn't normally bother me, only we were a few minutes into the season premiere. I switch back to WaT but the credits are rolling, so I'm doubly screwed. We watch lightning flash across a black screen (and the sky) for a good twenty minutes before Angel flicks back on. Never take the name of Wolfram and Hart in vain, apparently.
Yes, they're right about Wes being completely sidelined this season, which is a pity because he's the best actor of the lot, but I dispute the claim that Spike gets all the best lines. No way. It's dear Harm who gets all the good stuff, and I'd be annoyed if I wasn't too busy cackling. Especially the way she got in the last word last night: Spike just happens to pop back into semi-being (they just don't care any more, do they? Poof! Spike! Viola!) thus saving Angel from cancellation.
"Spike!" exclaims Wesley, surprised, and yet sounding oddly hopeful. Perhaps he needs another Brit to bond with, and I suppose Wes has read up on Spike because to the best of my knowledge, they've actually never met. Maybe he'll start work on a Spike shrine the way I suspect he has an Angel shrine. Sure, he calls them his research notes, but we know it's really a scrapbook. It's the girlie hearts he's drawn into the margins that's the giveaway :D
"Spike," grinds out Angel, aware that Spike is going to be one upping him all season and they're going to be sniping and wrestling with each other non stop - homoeroticism ahoy. Actually, we were watching the episode of Blackadder Goes Forth, the one with Flash, and watching Flash and Bladders trade insults, well, it seemed awfully familiar, somehow - grin. So if you've seen Flash and Bladders, expect more of the same from spike and Angel. :D
I mean, as a friend pointed out, the last time Spike had a knock down, drag out fight, he ended up all naked and post coital on the floor. No such scene apres his big slam fest with Angel, but, hey, well, hello dripping subtext :D
Anyways, back to episode one. "Blondie bear!" screeches Harmony, peeking around the door. Heh. Harmony gets all the best lines :) They all look pleased that Spike has arrived to save their jobs, except Angel of course, who broods with jealousy and wanning appeal.
I was amused at how violent it was (blood splattered walls are okay, but heaven forbid we should see a nipple) and, of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't admit to purring over Rodders.
The only other thing I watched was the Angel repeat on Fox8 (hey, why not? Double my Wes, so that'd make it, what? A full minute of screen time in total, across both episodes?) as I didn't get home until super late but at least it wasn't raining quite so hard when I left.
I also nearly tripped over the cables leading to a Channel Seven news van as I exited the station. They were filming overheated and frustrated communters. Now you know I've been whining about the PT since forever, and nobody has really given a toss, as public transport woes are for poor people who can't afford porsches. However, with nearly 100 cancelled trains daily and temperatures over 40C/100F we have pensiors keeling over and being carted off by stretchers that can barely get up steps packed with commuters, and that is newsworthy. So there they were, filming human misery as the storm clouds roiled overhead.