Englishman Danny Skeggs is sitting on a park bench and begins chatting up a woman there with her infant. With his English accent he will have her effortlessly charmed and captivated in no time. She will be swept away by his sophistication and mistake his crisp enunciation for a natural wit.

Or would if he weren’t actually in England. So really, he just comes off as a total wanker to this Englishwoman. He says his girlfriend had a baby last year, and picks her baby up out of the stroller. The woman is understandably terrified as this no-accented stranger dangerously holds her baby in the air as he has a flashback.

He remembers when Teresa first walked into his pawnshop, single and pregnant; but more illustrative of her poor life-choices, walking into a pawnshop. She offered up her grandmother’s cameo bracelet. Danny says it is worth 350 pounds, but that he can only afford to give her 75. He becomes very concerned when she begins having pregnant-lady pains near the faux-Persian carpet and passes out.

Not concerned enough to call an ambulance, mind you, but concerned enough to ask this stranger to move in with him . . . somewhere right there in the middle. He says she could stay at least until she has the baby. He says he is single, he owns the pawnshop, and that nobody should be alone at Christmas. Teresa tells him that the baby’s father really hurt her and she is not looking for anyone to replace him. She could use a friend, though — particularly a sap who will feed and shelter her — so she accepts.

Months later, Danny has predictably fallen in love with the pregnant woman. Whether it was the erratic mood swings or her massive swollen breasts is hard to say. He has never been happier despite this not being a sexual relationship. She chuckles over his story of drying a hamster in a microwave oven, but it might have been the wine . . . that the pregnant woman was drinking. Teresa is, however, horrified when he says he loves her.

Cut to some time later as the toddler — who was a massive birthmark on his back — is crying. Danny just wants them to go out to a movie, probably one I will be attending. She tells him to go alone, which also describes their sexual relationship. He complains that “the baby — Mr. Needy — is draining the life out of her.” He complains the baby always needs to be the center of attention as he throws a dish against the wall, tears down some drying clothes, and yells an insult about the baby’s birthmark. She responds with a well-deserved and well-delivered FU.

They make up and the next day take the baby for a stroll in the park. While Danny is getting them some hot dogs, Teresa notices two mimes having a loud argument, presumably over who is the most annoying. As it gets physical, she tries to break it up. They take a bow, quite pleased with themselves, as it was just a performance. Well, wait, they are mimes, after all. Why did their performance include talking? Anyhoo, it was a ruse to enable another mime to steal Teresa’s baby. No wonder people hate mimes.

Danny chases the mime, but the mime gets away despite dragging the stroller backward up stairs, then running with a baby in his arms, getting trapped in an invisible box, and then running against the wind. Waaaait a minute. Danny is laughing. That never happens around mimes. This was a scam on top of a ruse on top of a performance! And still somehow not very interesting.

Danny planned the whole thing in hopes that getting rid of the baby would bring some peace, tranquility, and nudity to their relationship. Instead, he finds that Teresa is distraught. He awkwardly begins cuddling with her and offers to help her make their own baby. She pushes him off the bed and shouts, “Don’t you understand? I don’t want you. I want my baby!”

Which brings us back to the opening scene where Danny is holding the woman’s baby. He says one baby is about like any other. He takes off with the baby hoping it will bring some peace to Teresa. Fortunately, he is caught and beaten bloody by some bloody good citizens. In the tussle, he sees the baby has a huge birthmark on his back.

Honestly, the twist is so weak that it didn’t even register as a twist for me. I just thought, “Hmmm, it’s the same baby.” It lacked any trace of the irony, the revenge, the come-uppance, or the random cosmic cruelty that even the most middling TFTC episode requires. This was just an utter nothing.

You’re probably thinking the same thing that I am – I waited 6 months for this?

You might want to consider whether your production needs a little tightening up when the first 2.5 minutes of your episode is three people silently riding in  car. ^[1]  There is no car chase, it is not going anywhere exotic, and no one is Jack & Rosing in the backseat.  The novelty of the steering wheel being on the wrong side wears off pretty quickly.

This episode is the definition of being less than the sum of its parts.  The scene described above is the first example.  Really, nothing happens, but it does get you interested in Ford, Cammy and Cutter.  They arrive at the bank they were going to rob and find it has become a laundry.  OK, that’s fun.  They then go to Plan B which is to rob a convenience store; although, I would have thought Plan B would be a different bank.

Cammy has a bad feeling, but Ford reminds her that in England only the bad guys have guns.  Wow, can’t see that line getting aired in the USA today or in USA Today.  There is also a bizarre bit where Ford doesn’t know the word wanker.  But that makes sense later.  Maybe.

They walk in to rob the store and find that there is a gang already robbing it.  For no reason at all it is an Asian gang, and for no reason, they are wearing motorcycle helmets.  Well, I guess the reason is that they rode motorcycles.  But it still adds a little pizzazz.

So we started out with a jaunty opening, then had a little comedy, then this scene turned out to be a pretty serious gunfight.  All good stuff, but what does the episode want to be when it grows up?  They go back to their apartment where Cammy digs a slug out of Ford’s leg.  Could be worse — Cutter was killed.

Next thing we see is Cammy picking up a dude in a bar.  Hunh?  That’s out of nowhere.   Ford catches them together the next morning, and shoots the guy.  But the guy is not what he appeared to be.  And Ford and Cammy are also not what they appeared to be.  But they are not the same as the guy, if that’s vague enough for you.  This introduces yet another genre to the episode; maybe two.

All three of them end up crashing through the window.  The guy is not seen again, for good reason.  Ford and Cammy are seen having a drink.  Some of their past dialogue suddenly makes sense, maybe even him not knowing what a wanker is.

During the viewing, they seemed to be making this up as they went along.  However, afterword, remembering the episode, and assisted by the warm glow of a new scotch (Shackleton’s) ^[2] the pieces began to coalesce into a good episode.  But not good enough to make me sit through the Cryptkeeper’s closing remarks.

Trigger warning:  There is some seemingly racist language that, if you are patient, is not racist.  On the other hand, calling the black guy “Count Chocula” gets no such redemption.  Just to balance things out, there are also female and Asian slurs.

Other Stuff:

• [1] To be fair, a couple of lines are exchanged at the 1:30 mark.  To be fairer, it was not boring.  The car was sweet, and there was a fantastic jazzy score (described as “really annoying” in the sole IMDb review).
• [2] What better way to capitalize on the adventurous spirit and soul-crushing adversity of the Shackleton crew who were 100X the man you are — booze!  God bless America; even if it is British.
• Title Analysis:  I can kind of make it work as the characters represent two factions.  But they are not normally thought of as enemies, so it’s really a stretch.
• Stars a young Ewen McGregor and young Colin Salmon (you know him even if you think you don’t know him).  Not for nothing, McGregor also starred in Salmon Fishing in the Yemen.
• No, I think that was for nothing.

Nick and T go to Starr’s jewelry store.  But it’s not a legitimate business — the storefront is a facade.  Heeyyyooooo!

Apparently, mobster Starr has hired these two goons to rob him so he can collect the insurance money.  They watch as the middle-aged Mr. Starr locks the shop and drives off. Nick has the great idea that they should keep the jewels and “do the same thing Starr is doing.”   T reminds him nobody steals from the evil Declan Starr and gets away with it.  Wait, Nick’s plan is to steal from a gangland kingpin and pull the same ruse?

• So lease a space, requiring a huge deposit?
• Purchase expensive showcases.
• Open a store which will have only a few pieces of merchandise?  Or will they purchase $$$ of other inventory to appear legit?
• Advertise said merchandise, alerting Starr to exactly where he can find the exact pieces stolen from him?
• Secure insurance despite having no identities, references, bank accounts, or business license?
• Then hire two other goons to rob them?
• Wouldn’t it be easier just to fence the jewels?

I guess I just don’t have a criminal mind. ^[1]  They bust the lock and enter the store.  The camera, like the viewer, is not interested enough to follow them inside.  Things pick up when we hear two gunshots.  Sadly, both men emerge unhurt.  Wait a minute, what were the shots?  This was just a ruse.  Anyway, things do pick up when T accuses Nick of planning to double-cross him, and shoots down him in the street.  T picks up the jewels and heads for the getaway car.  However, Nick is not quite dead and shoots T.  Viewers cheering this happy ending and heading for the fridge should note that we are only 4 minutes into the episode.

I guess Nick was wearing a flak jacket because he tells T the same thing girls always tell me: “Next time, aim lower!”  Nick gets in the getaway car and gets away.  But wait, T must have also had a flak jacket on because he jumps up and fires several shots at the car as it peels out.  Remember, kids — double-tap!  Did we learn nothing from John Wick?

T must have hit something vital; on the car, I mean.  The car breaks down in front of an old hotel.  Nick checks in and notes the clerk looks familiar.  He takes the seedy elevator to the seedy second floor and goes into his seedy room.

He realizes the bullet did do some damage after all and calls Fixer, who I assume is like Mr. Wolf in Pulp Fiction.  Fixer claims to not know him and then the phone number doesn’t work at all.  Nick goes downstairs, but the clerk is not at his post.  Then something totally unexpected happened — I got interested.

Nick meets a woman in the lobby and that begins a series of interesting scenes that are blood-soaked or just plain weird.  Everything seems to come together at that point.  It even retroactively increased my appreciation of the first few minutes.  I enjoyed some of it so much that I won’t spoil it.

Unfortunately, the story doesn’t seem to make sense or even play fair.  The reasonable assumption any horror fan would make is that Nick is dead the whole time.  Some of the dialogue between him and the clerk or the woman also cleverly suggests that.

However, at the end, we can see that Nick is alive until the last seconds of the episode.  OK, maybe this craziness was fever-dreams from his wound.  But the woman really is dead, so where does that leave us?  Not only that, she somehow made a phone call to Mr. Starr in the land of the living.  There also the chap in the lift pictured above — we can guess who he might be, but no clues are given.  I suppose all this could be artfully explained away, but they seem like loose ends.

However this is a story that started out boring me, then soon won me over with good dialogue, fun visuals, and a couple of fine performances.  It’s hard not to be happy with that.  OK, maybe  little — the episode is utterly humorless.  And I understand the irony of that coming from me.

Other Stuff:

• [1] To be fair, Nick does say he has a Plan B:  “We keep the jewels.  Mr. Starr gets something . . . we get something.”  I assume he means that Mr. Starr gets the insurance proceeds.  So Nick thinks Mr. Starr will be amenable to them stealing the diamonds, and him being out the amount of the deductible and the original loot?  I think even his dopey Plan A is better than that.
• Upon further reflection, I had never considered that the whole stock of a jewelry store might fit into a briefcase.
• When we get a look at the loot, it all seems to be not jewelry, but uncut diamonds the size of the ice cubes in my dinner.

We open “Somewhere in England 1945”.  Four Nazis are running through the woods having just broken out of a POW Camp.  They complain to their leader that they are going the wrong way, although I’m not sure what would be the right way.  They do know England is an island, right?  It’s not like they can bicycle to France like Sedgwick or row downriver to safety like Danny & Willie or . . . or . . . or . . . boy, that Great Escape really didn’t get many people out, did it?

The men turn out to be correct as they run into some English soldiers.  Their leader, Lt. Luger, throws up his hands and surrenders.  His three pals run and the English soldiers shoot them in the back.  Luger is taken to Havenhurst POW Camp which looks more like a castle than a camp.  He asks Major Nicholson about the “arrangement” he had with Major Norris.  Major Nick doesn’t approve of such deal-making.  He is also disgusted that Luger betrayed his men and they died.  On this rare occasion, I must be on team-Nazi and agree with Luger that they should not have run.

Havenhurst POW Camp

Luger tries to justify his actions, but Major Nick is not buying it.  He says, “Three good men are dead because of you!”  Well, let’s not put the flags at half-mast just yet; they were Nazis after all.  He continues, “I’d shoot you myself but you’re not worth a bullet.”  When the other POWs hear that he successfully escaped from his previous camp, he becomes BNOC.^[1]  He is recruited into their escape plan.

During the next meeting of the Escape Committee Luger notices an ambulance pull into the camp.  A man is carried into the hospital.  Seeing his look of concern, another POW asks, “Friend of yours?”  Keep in mind, Luger is seeing the man from the 2nd story, across the street, and through a closed dirty window.  And, oh yeah, the injured man’s head is completely wrapped in gauze except for top of his head and a niqab-like eye-slit.

I guess this is not from Luger’s POV, but from the window’s POV because it sure was not that clean.

The Escape Committees adjourns so the Prom Committee can have the room, so Luger goes directly to see Major Nick.  He rats out his fellow Nazis and tells everything about their plan.  He expects some reward from the Major, but Nick busts him for being afraid the new patient — one of the men he betrayed — might tell everyone what happened.  Wait, so Luger bailed on the escape plan, his only chance to avoid this new prisoner; and divulged the plan, thus guaranteeing he remains locked up with this guy that he wants to avoid?  No wonder they lost the war.  Major Nick happily tells Luger they expect the injured soldier to be able to speak in a few days, and goose-stepping by Friday.  I guess the English soldiers are too proper hosts to spread the word of his betrayal themselves.

Before making his escape, Luger goes to kill the man who can identify him.  First, that’s a real escape faux pas.  Second, at least 2 other guys in this camp and the shooters from his previous camp also know what he did.  Is he going to also drop by the other camp before swimming the Channel?

That’s all fine, but this is TFTC not Memorial Day on Turner Classic Movies.  So far this has been a straight Nazi war movie.  Where is the gore, where is the humor, where is the irony, where is the Grand Guignol?  Seriously, the first Wonder Woman was like 3 years ago; where is she?

The dude he just killed rises again.  OMG, is he the undead?  A zombie?  A demon bent on revenge?  Naw, he just got his 2nd wind.  Luger makes his escape in one of many coffins being transported from the camp.  OMG, are the other two guys he betrayed in the coffins?  Are they back from the dead to kill Luger?  Naw, they’re just empty pine coffins.  So Luger must accidentally get buried alive, right?  Nein.

The truck dumps the coffins.  Luger climbs out of the wreckage, and Major Nick shoots him.  There are a couple of, not so much twists, as just other stuff that happens.  Then Major Nick shoots him again.  So I guess he was worth two bullets.

Nothing really wrong here.  It was just a poor fit for TFTC.

Other Stuff:

• [1] I was thinking it would be cute for him to be Big Nazi on Campus, playing on BMOC (Big Man on Campus).  But dang if BNOC isn’t a real thing.
• What the hell?  Luger (Martin Kemp) was in Spandau Ballet.

This might be the worst opening I’ve ever seen to a TV episode.  It begins with 83 seconds of Sharon Bannister typing.  That’s it.  There is no suspense, we can’t read what she is typing, she isn’t topless.  It is just typing for 83 seconds. ^[1]

Sharon removes the last page of her new book from the typewriter and we see the title, Death by Love.  This will be an ironic capper to her series sitting on the bookshelf: Death by Greed, Death by Pride, Death by Envy, Death by Lust, Death by Remorse, Death by Revenge, Death by Hate.  She seemed to have a 7 Deadly Sins thing going there (if you count Revenge as Wrath (any Trekkie can explain the connection)), but what is Remorse doing there? ^[2]

Her neighbor Mrs. Trask has come by to borrow a cup of sugar although, frankly, that’s the last thing she needs.  She has also asks Sharon to read a story that she has written.  Sharon’s review is, “In the pantheon of mystery writers, there’s the greats, there’s everyone else who’s ever written a book, and then there’s you.  Agatha Christie can rest in peace.”  The actors are well cast, the line is fabulous, but this is painful.  I like some good dry British humor, but this is just death.  The lethargy — which seems like a good English word, but I guess they all are — is stifling.

She hustles Mrs. Trask out, and the cycle begins again.   She hears noises, then gets a call from her ex-husband Larry.  She hears the door and tells Larry, “They’re coming in.”  She picks up a fireplace poker and advances toward the noises.  Again, this is so flatly staged that it creates zero suspense or tension.  Of course, it turns out to be Larry playing a trick on her.  As he enters the room, she calls him a bastard.  He replies, “You used to call me biscuit” which is just cringe-inducing.  Yada yada, he kills her, which in a good episode would have been one of the yadas.

This awful tone is sad, because there are some great bits here.  The two women are great in their roles, or could have been.  There is a nice scene where Mrs. Trask comes back after Larry has killed Sharon.  He has propped her up at her typewriter with a ruler in a way which is just awesome.  After Mrs. Trask leaves, Sharon falls over, and that is used to transition to a shot of Larry dumping her body on the floor of the basement.  Great stuff, although I’m not sure a famous author would live in a house with a dirt floor in the basement.

Well, Mrs. Trask’s loser son Joey has a crush on Sharon, there is a bit over some missing keys, Sharon is maybe not as dead as suspected, Joey gets a gun and Larry finds some hedge-clippers.  This plays out nicely, but is just so deadly dull that it is hard to care.  As if to really punish the audience, the return of Mrs. Trask is literally in slow motion.

This strikes me as the greatest misfire in 7 years of TFTC.  There have been some awful episodes, but none that had so many great assets totally squandered.  Amp up the energy, give it a decent score, and this story could have been a classic.  How this got to air is puzzling.  The writer can’t blame the director because he is the same guy.  And that guy was responsible for L.A. Confidential and a lot of other fine work.

Other Stuff:

• [1] Just the opening credits, you are thinking.  No, only the Producer and Writer/Director overlap with this scene.  And I only started the clock when she was visible, not at the sound of the typewriter.  To be fair, some of it is hand-held, indicating a voyeur, but that soon gives way to a more standard shot.  It’s a lot of typing is all I’m saying.
• [2] Seven books (or eight with the Love capper) seems to indicate a lack of confidence.  Maybe she learned a lesson from Sue Grafton who just missed finishing the series.  If Stephen King’s titles followed a formula, he could have probably made it through the Periodic Table of Elements by now.