Well… this was just not okay.
I often write about how bad television makes me angry, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt anger like I’ve felt upon finishing this episode. Goddammit, I feel used and manipulated. I honestly do.
Well… They should have just called the episode “Flash” because it was pointless.
Chris and Travis hit a major roadblock in their relationship as Chris becomes an official bro-migo. Meanwhile, the zombies are… I don’t know where the zombies are.
It was a hard task to follow up last seasons’ “Twilight of the Apprentice,” but Rebels did it solidly with an hour that was well-written, well-voiced (how about that Tom Baker, eh?), and well plotted with both action and drama. It’s amazing that a cartoon… a show built for kids to sell action figures, can be this sophisticated and mature.
It’s the seventh annual “Oh My God, Someone’s Going to Die Without This Medicine We Don’t Have So Let’s Risk Our Lives and Go Get It” road trip!
Can you believe that I didn’t even realize that Dad and Asshole Son were missing until someone mentioned they were still missing? That’s seriously how little this show has made me care.
While I have heavy doubts that anyone who didn’t grow up in the 80’s will see any value to “The Curse of the Three Terrors,” for me, it was a portal back to my childhood. It didn’t give me the feeling of watching a new episode of a beloved series from long ago, it gave me the experience of watching a new episode of a beloved series from long ago. That, my friends, is a gift and it’s a gift I am most grateful for.
Sure, it could have used more scenes with The Tick as he’s in, only about 25 percent of the episode and it could have used more jokes to cut up some of the more melodramatic moments, but as a pilot episode… the beginning of a journey, it works nicely and, as a reboot of one of my favorite superheroes, it couldn’t have updated and fleshed out the world of The Tick any better.
Because there is so much joy and goodness in the world, Game of Thrones is back to take a big steamy shit of sadness on your Sunday nights and we’re just going to sit there as it pinches off a rancid log right into our laps with a gigantic grin on our faces because we hate ourselves and we want to be punished. I’m not in to S&M, but thanks to this series, I at least understand it now.