Jack Haines is sitting outside a CW bar drinking in his car. He overheard a conversation that his wife is meeting another man there. He takes a gun from the glove compartment and turns it into a CCW bar.
He walks around inside but doesn’t see her. He orders a beer and listens to the singer. Haines is stunned by what he is hearing. The song is jarring and baffles him. Is this for real? Are other people hearing the same thing he is? Which is the same effect country music has on me.
He hears aspects of his own life in the singer’s words. The bartender says the old man just wandered in out of the storm, so they let him open for the house band. He says the man was so good he didn’t even notice he was “blind as a bat.” If coming in at night wearing opaque welding goggles and a thousand yard stare didn’t tip off the bartender, maybe his eyesight isn’t so great either.
The singer comes over and asks how Haines like the song. “Kind of hits you where you live, don’t it? That’s what it was meant to do.” Haines asks how the man knows all about him. He replies, “I don’t know everything, just the bad things.” He says he has been “blessed or cursed. The sounds just come to me when I’m around certain people.” He tells Haines he knows what he is about to do, and it will cause everyone pain.
Haines spots his wife in the bar with another dude. Just when he is about to make his move, he realizes it is just a stranger hitting on her. The singer reminds him just how close he came to killing an innocent man. Yada yada . . .
It is another perplexing third season episode. There have been several that were as good as anything this run of the series every did. Too many, however, fell into the same old traps of happy endings, maudlin stories, and those dreadful, insipid scores.
This was one of the good ones. It was serious, but not somber. Romantic but not sappy. And, thank God, it had a soundtrack rather than a score. That could have gone very wrong. They happened to find an interesting actor with an engaging, twangy voice. I completely bought him as the mysterious blind man. I even enjoyed his singing and I’m not really a country fan. That was some lucky or shrewd casting because he carries the episode. The other actors are stiffs or insanely hammy.
And, yeah, it’s another TZ happy ending. But that’s OK sometimes.
Spike, Katie, Pinky, and The Duchess — surprisingly humans, not puppies — are hanging out in the City Hall Press Room on a “
Burrows says the night is “colder than a witch’s left one” so I guess there will be no nudity in tonight’s tame episode. Parker says they are looking for a guide that ignores the Endangered Species List, which rules out that bleeding heart Michelin Guide with their snooty no Bengal Tiger Tartare rule. She suggests her ex, Jeri (the gender ambiguity is lost in print) who was busted for dynamite-fishing. But the bartender doesn’t care for poachers and picks up the phone to call the game warden. So Burrows shoots her.
Just when I feared the episode was going to play out as a straight monster-fest, a couple of pretty ingenious curves are thrown into the story. It is not giving away much to say this is a nest of vampires — that isn’t the twist. The story beat 30 Days of Night to the Alaskan Vampire scene by 5 years. That might have been dazzling in 1995, but is still appreciated here — and not the twist.
I think I’ll pass on this one.
“One of the most important parts of air research is the efforts of the metal scientists known as
When Parr makes a move, Rudman fires the gun. Unfortunately, the bullet ricochets off the mysterious metal and he hits himself. They aren’t fooling around — the shot hits him right in the melon. He puts a hand to his face and falls to the floor.
Still pursuing his theories 2 weeks later, Connors goes to see George Martin, president of the nation’s largest steel mill who oddly went on to be the Beatles’ go-to producer. Connor wants Martin to issue a press release announcing to the BP man that the metal he possesses would be worth a