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akirluI finally sat through another full episode of Criminal Minds and so far can't see why the fuss. I seem to be drawing arsonist eps, and the writing on this one("Ashes and Dust") had a fitful case of the stupid.
We first encounter a family sleeping innocently in their beds while the perp is pouring gasoline around the house and then setting it all ablaze. Cut to parents being awakened by their son -- it's a fire! C'mon we gotta go! The son then drags them out of their Not Yet Burning bedroom into a Flame Engulfed hallway choked with smoke and leaping fire. Everyone crawls along the floor of the Flame Engulfed hallway, through the Flame Engulfed dining room and living room, and winds up half-fried and attractively ash-smeared at the base of the front door, which (gasp) won't open. It's been jammed! Oh, noes! Oh, the doominess! All die in flames.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting through all of this wondering who the hell goes out of a completely Not Burning bedroom right into a Flame Engulfed inferno of a hallway to aim for an exterior door they might not even be able to reach through the heat and smoke of the Flame Engulfed intervening rooms when there is a perfectly serviceable window right there in the Not Burning room? Is there a long drop to the ground below the window? Is the window above a cliff? Is the house built on stilts above shrieking-shark-infested waters?
That's when we get an exterior shot to reveal the burning house is a low-slung single-story ranch house with big aluminum slider windows.
Screw those people, they were too stupid to live anyway.
Later we get some hand-wavish mumbo-jumbo about how the perp forced them to head for the front door by splashing gas all over the back door. Great. Still doesn't account for leaving a Not Burning room by way of the Flame Engulfed doorway instead of by way of the Not Even A Little Bit Burning bigass window.
Even later, the serial arsonist traps another family in their car in their garage, and while the father is playing with the remote to the garage door opener, which does nothing, there's this bunker-clad maniac pouring gas all over the hood of the car. Aieeee! He has a lighter! Aieee! Get out of the car, everyone! Get out! Get out! Oh, noes! None of the door locks work! Everyone is locked in! All die in exploding flames.
Okay, I'm happy to believe it's trivial to disable an electronic garage door opener. But 'splain me pliz how one manages to gimmick the power locks of a car so that they open to a key once, and only *then* lock in such a way that even the driver inside the car cannot unlock them? Yeah, no, not buying it. Also? Family is (naturally) seated in a Giant Horking SUV thing. Screw the door opener, screw the door locks, the engine's already running anyway, so drive through the asshole with the gas can, and through closed garage door, and worry about your trim pieces later.
Screw those people, they're too stupid to live, too.
Later, there is a rather clever, switchy ending for the bad guy, but by then I'm sufficiently annoyed with the stupid that eleventh hour cleverness is wasted on me.
On the other hand, I am in ecstasies to find that there is a new series of Foyle's War. Michael Kitchen, oh, baby.
And we are almost through the long dry patch between series of Mad Men. Jon Hamm, oh, baby, baby.
We first encounter a family sleeping innocently in their beds while the perp is pouring gasoline around the house and then setting it all ablaze. Cut to parents being awakened by their son -- it's a fire! C'mon we gotta go! The son then drags them out of their Not Yet Burning bedroom into a Flame Engulfed hallway choked with smoke and leaping fire. Everyone crawls along the floor of the Flame Engulfed hallway, through the Flame Engulfed dining room and living room, and winds up half-fried and attractively ash-smeared at the base of the front door, which (gasp) won't open. It's been jammed! Oh, noes! Oh, the doominess! All die in flames.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting through all of this wondering who the hell goes out of a completely Not Burning bedroom right into a Flame Engulfed inferno of a hallway to aim for an exterior door they might not even be able to reach through the heat and smoke of the Flame Engulfed intervening rooms when there is a perfectly serviceable window right there in the Not Burning room? Is there a long drop to the ground below the window? Is the window above a cliff? Is the house built on stilts above shrieking-shark-infested waters?
That's when we get an exterior shot to reveal the burning house is a low-slung single-story ranch house with big aluminum slider windows.
Screw those people, they were too stupid to live anyway.
Later we get some hand-wavish mumbo-jumbo about how the perp forced them to head for the front door by splashing gas all over the back door. Great. Still doesn't account for leaving a Not Burning room by way of the Flame Engulfed doorway instead of by way of the Not Even A Little Bit Burning bigass window.
Even later, the serial arsonist traps another family in their car in their garage, and while the father is playing with the remote to the garage door opener, which does nothing, there's this bunker-clad maniac pouring gas all over the hood of the car. Aieeee! He has a lighter! Aieee! Get out of the car, everyone! Get out! Get out! Oh, noes! None of the door locks work! Everyone is locked in! All die in exploding flames.
Okay, I'm happy to believe it's trivial to disable an electronic garage door opener. But 'splain me pliz how one manages to gimmick the power locks of a car so that they open to a key once, and only *then* lock in such a way that even the driver inside the car cannot unlock them? Yeah, no, not buying it. Also? Family is (naturally) seated in a Giant Horking SUV thing. Screw the door opener, screw the door locks, the engine's already running anyway, so drive through the asshole with the gas can, and through closed garage door, and worry about your trim pieces later.
Screw those people, they're too stupid to live, too.
Later, there is a rather clever, switchy ending for the bad guy, but by then I'm sufficiently annoyed with the stupid that eleventh hour cleverness is wasted on me.
On the other hand, I am in ecstasies to find that there is a new series of Foyle's War. Michael Kitchen, oh, baby.
And we are almost through the long dry patch between series of Mad Men. Jon Hamm, oh, baby, baby.
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