Upload (2020) s02e07 – Download

Either “Upload” decided to be just another 2022 show and play chicken with its renewal post-reduced Covid-19 lockdown season, or they ran out of time to shoot the whole season. As a result, this episode feels like a great mid-season breakpoint, not a season finale. It’s got three massive cliffhangers, one semi-resolution to an outstanding arc, one big whiff instead of a resolution, and one natural character development moment.

It’s a slightly longer episode than usual—closer to forty minutes than thirty—because there’s just so much to do, starting with Robbie Amell and Andy Allo coming up with a plan to foil the bad guys’ plan. That plan involves shifting the voting demographics in swing states, which is entirely shoehorned into the show; it’s a contrived crisis, starting last episode.

Anyway.

They need to get Amell’s retina scan to save the United States, basically. Except Amell’s dead and his avatar in the digital afterlife uses templates when you zoom into the eyes close enough. Though there’s a great scene with Allo gazing into Amell’s eyes, and who cares if the plot’s contrived.

Luckily, as the audience found out at the very end of the previous episode, Allegra Edwards has cloned Amell so she can reinsert his personality into the brain. Of course, Amell knows nothing about it, but Edwards is going to reward him with the information once he signs on the dotted line for having a creepy virtual baby with her.

Except, of course, the process for reinserting personalities into clones results in the subject’s head exploding. This subplot also seems a little rushed, like if they’d had a couple more episodes to the season, it wouldn’t feel so abrupt. They’ve been testing the procedure on pigeons, which leads to some funny (but, you know, not nice to pigeon) scenes.

But in addition to Edwards’s cooperation, they’re also going to need help from the Luds. Allo has to convince the Christian fundamentalist terrorist pastor Peter Bryant, and she’s not getting much help from now ex-boyfriend Paulo Costanzo. But she does get an unlikely supporter in fellow double agent Josh Banday, who thinks Allo’s really cool, actually.

There’s also some danger for Amell’s mom, Jessica Tuck, who’s going to have herself uploaded into the forthcoming freeware afterlife so she can hang out with him. Also, because she’s so poor, it makes more sense to stop existing. Amell doesn’t know anything about it, but it’s the first life-or-death stake in the episode. It’s not the last, which is kind of a big swing for a sitcom, only they did the same thing last season and then spent most of this one ignoring that shift.

The only people with regular arcs are Zainab Johnson and Kevin Bigley. Johnson’s boss, Andrea Rosen, wants to promote her one more time, which means bigger bucks and a much better living situation. It also means Johnson will have to commit to the very likely (but still nebulously) evil company.

And then Bigley’s just excited for Edwards to ruin things with Amell so they can bro out.

It’s a tense, dramatic, occasionally wonderful season finale. With three big cliffhangers and no resolutions if they don’t get a renewal.

There are some great scenes for Allo and Amell, some funny ones for Costanzo, and a lackluster finish for Edwards, who deserved more after the season she’s had.

Even with the limited opportunity for Allo and Amell charm this season, the actors still manage to deliver and up the charm. They’re delightful together. Also, “Upload”’s got a solid supporting cast who deserves to finish some character arcs.

I really hope Amazon renews it.

Upload (2020) s02e06 – The Outing

This episode very much does not feel like the penultimate episode of the season. Most of the episode is character development and relationship arcs, with Andy Allo and Zainab Johnson taking Robbie Amell and Kevin Bigley on a field trip to New York City. Despite it being the near future and there being human-to-AI conversion software—not to mention actual cloning—Allo and Johnson are still stuck with iPads hung around their necks with Amell and Bigley looking out.

The procedure makes little sense given the show’s technology—seriously, no one brings back Google Glass?—but it’s clearly just a way to keep Amell and Bigley present in scenes. It’s also nonsensical Allo—now a star bug hunter in the programming department—would be allowed to be Amell’s guide.

Those hurdles aside, it’s a pretty darn good episode. Allo and Johnson haven’t gotten to hang out much this season—most of their scenes are talking about boys no less—and their trip will bring some building issues to the fore. Johnson’s gotten multiple promotions and is shining in the company. She sees a future not requiring her to work two full-time jobs for a crappy studio apartment. Her experiences aren’t corresponding with Allo’s, who might not be a full-blown Lud revolutionary, but she and Amell are trying to rock the foundation of the digital afterlife thanks to the latest development in their murder investigation.

In the previous episode, Amell and Allo found out his odious rich guy neighbor (William B. Davis) had him killed for potentially witnessing something related to the freeware version of the digital afterlife. Suddenly, this freeware afterlife is opening in five days, meaning Amell and Allo have to rush to figure it out. Davis is downloading into a robot to go to a meeting in New York; Allo finds out, hence the field trip.

Meanwhile, Allegra Edwards has her post-virtual baby evaluation to see if she and Amell can have a “real” virtual baby, not the NPC version. But first, Edwards has to get through the evaluation with Josh Banday, Mackenzie Cardwell, and Owen Daniels. There are some great lines about Banday the incel. It’ll be another strangely touching arc for Edwards and entirely unreal AI guy Owen Daniels, one of the season’s most consistently successful subplots.

In the real world, Edwards also gets a visit from mom Teryl Rothery and brother Lucas Wyka, who are mean to her, but there’s a decent punchline to the whole season. Also, potentially some actual character development for Edwards. Though much like the iPad technology in the A-plot, Edwards needing to be evaluated for a paid software add-on seems a little unlikely.

Then again, when Allo and Amell discover Davis’s evil plan… it’s entirely based on current-to-2021 events. Though I suppose if “Upload” were more thoughtful about its future, the show wouldn’t rely so wholly on Amell and Allo’s charm together.

Good acting from Allo, Edwards, and Johnson. All of Amell’s scenes (until the end) are basically video calls, so he doesn’t have much to do. Ditto Bigley, who’s entirely support, though he gets some funny stuff and a decent, sincere moment for once.

And then the cliffhanger reveal’s a genuine shocker.

Upload (2020) s02e03 – Robin Hood

It’s an excellent episode for Allegra Edwards. She gets to play out of character—in the real world, Edwards’s talking toilet has been chastising her for too much time in VR, so she’s going to take a break. To ensure Robbie Amell doesn’t ask any questions, Edwards hires a “job gerbil”—for an Amazon show, “Upload”’s real comfortable showing what a Bezos-led dystopia would look like. The job gerbil, a phenomenal Paloma Nuñez, has to pretend to be Edwards in the virtual afterlife.

Except Nuñez isn’t terrible, so Amell and buddy Kevin Bigley will think Edwards is just being awesome all of a sudden. The episode opens with them discovering they can siphon data off the rich guys and give it to the poor people on limited data plans. You pause until next month when you run out of data in the virtual afterlife. Amell’s got a code editor device (from last season) to do the hacking.

He and Bigley take it upon themselves to play, you guessed it, Robin Hood.

They have a great suspense comedy plot with Edwards. It’s casino night (or afternoon) in the afterlife, and they’re going to win big against the richies, thanks to a complicated cheating system. Suspense factors in once real-world boss Andrea Rosen catches the code hacker in use, so she and debugger Ryan Beil try to find the culprit.

Their investigation coincides with Andy Allo’s job interview with Beil; while she’s usually in customer service, the Luds want her to drop some physical items around the programming floor, so she’s got to do a job interview. She’s ostensibly unqualified, but the show established from the start she’s really good at the programming side when she gets to do it.

Since she can’t go back to her apartment, she’s rooming with fellow Lud and fellow virtual afterlife customer service rep Josh Banday. It ends up being an excuse to show off Banday’s profoundly gross and funny lifestyle and get some laughs.

Allo also reunites with Zainab Johnson and meets her not-exactly-replacement Mackenzie Cardwell. No reuniting for Allo and Amell just yet, though she does check in on him once she’s back.

Rosen gets a lot this episode; cop Hiro Kanagawa is investigating—which freaks out Rosen because she spies on Bigley in the shower and then Beil for an indeterminate reason—so Rosen enlists Johnson’s help hiding evidence. It all will tie together with Allo’s arc by the end.

It’s a good episode for Allo too. It’s a decent character development arc amid her saboteur stuff and then the silliness in the virtual world.

But Edwards gets the best material by far; just a splendid showcase.

Upload (2020) s02e02 – Dinner Party

Both Robbie Amell and Andy Allo spend this episode getting used to their new normals (without each other), with Allo having a much better time of it. She gets to hang out with new beau Paulo Costanzo, which means a bunch of flirting, but also finding out some of the Luds anti-digital afterlife plans.

Amell’s just got to suffer through fiancée Allegra Edwards throwing a dinner party; the audience now knows Edwards is lying to him about being dead. She’s just in a VR suit in her bathtub 24/7. She invites the worst people she can find around the place, letting Amell invite his poor friend Phoebe Miu for some contrast. Kevin Bigley’s there too, but he’d either be an Amell invite or as Vic Michaelis’s plus one. Michaelis is Edwards’s grandma, who spends her digital afterlife drunk and knocking boots with Bigley.

Michaelis also gets a conversation with fellow rich guest William B. Davis (as a Koch brother analog) about how much fun it is to be racist and how women getting the vote caused the Great Depression. Davis has some unlikely, seemingly empathetic ideas about the poors receiving a digital afterlife, too, surprising Amell and horrifying Edwards. Bigley gets it in his head there’s something to Davis’s interest concerning the big conspiracy against Amell (Amell having programmed a free digital afterlife and apparently murdered for it), but Amell’s too busy with the dinner party. Specifically the help.

In addition to Allo’s adventures with the Luds, the episode’s also got Zainab Johnson and her new sidekick, Mackenzie Cardwell, trying to keep up with Edwards’s demands for the dinner party. Edwards is just too much of a Karen for the AI to keep up with her; there are some great scenes for Owen Daniels, who plays all the in-world AI characters. When Cardwell enters the digital afterlife, she uses Allo’s existing avatar, sending Amell into conniptions.

While there are some funny faux pas moments for Amell and Cardwell Allo, it’s also some jarringly unlikable Amell for a while. Once he gets the identities sorted out, he gets really short–a complete reverse from when he doesn’t know and is falling over himself to pay attention to Cardwell Allo in front of Edwards. Although Amell told Edwards he’d had a digital afterlife fling last episode, it’s unclear if she knows it’s Allo.

Anyway.

They use Amell’s brief foray into unlikable as a character development arc, as well as a way to further establish Cardwell. Johnson’s got a great line about Amell being a “human bowl of oatmeal” who drives the other girls wild.

Meanwhile, the real Allo ends the episode getting even more involved with the Luds, specifically their plans for hacking the digital afterlife and leveraging her experience (and job) to do it.

The Nice Guys (2016, Shane Black)

I recently joked to a friend I wanted to claim “audacity” as a complementary phrase, but just for Stanley Kubrick. Something simple like, “Stanley Kubrick: Audacity can be a compliment.” But then she called me on it being gross.

The Nice Guys is basically, “Shane Black: Humility is for [slur we’re allowed to use because the movie’s set in 1978].” It’s never terrible, though Black’s got his usual “no, but, maybe you’re misogynistic for saying this scene or characterization is misogynist,” which gets exasperating. Especially since it’s in the Boogie Nights riff part of the movie. Nice Guys is a pseudo-noir and mostly a series of lifts from other movies, including ones Black wrote for other directors.

The film’s heroes, The Nice Guys, are soulful bruiser Russell Crowe, who hates his comically evil ex-wife and protects young women from predators, and sad drunk private investigator Ryan Gosling. Except the de facto protagonist of the movie is Angourie Rice, playing Gosling’s daughter. Since she’s a thirteen-year-old in 1978 L.A., tagging along on her dad’s job to porn parties, hunted by vicious hitmen, she’s always in danger, and the audience knows it. Gosling and Crowe forget about it at the drop of a hat, but the film’s always about reminding terrible things could happen to Rice anytime. So when she’s not around, it just means she might be in danger, which focuses the film on her.

Of all the things Black didn’t think to rip off… it’d be a fine “Veronica Mars” riff.

Gosling is bilking client Lois Smith (the film’s most successful cameo but only because the others mostly stink); she’s convinced her pornstar granddaughter is alive, even though the movie showed her dying in the first scene. You know, kind of like Lethal Weapon 1.

He’s actually doing some investigating—which the movie never shows and instead uses as gotchas from Gosling to other characters—and is pretty sure Smith really saw Margaret Qualley. Qualley knows Gosling is after her, so she hires Crowe to beat him up.

Then the actual bad guys looking for Qualley—an okay but wasted Keith David and an annoying Beau Knapp—go after Crowe, so he has to team up with Gosling (and Rice).

There are various chase scenes, drunk comedy scenes, objectified young women (it’s the seventies so it’s okay), fight scenes, kidnappings, and so on. At one point, Knapp warns the real villain of the movie isn’t even in town yet, letting Crowe know he’s got a big fight in the third act.

At some point, Nice Guys becomes just a period-action comedy instead of something else with those themes. No one gets an actual character arc, just the potential for a sequel.

Both Crowe and Gosling seem like they’re playing sidekick to the star. Of the two… Crowe’s better most of the time. Rice is fine. Her performance is more successful thanks to script and blocking, but she’s charming enough.

As the film progresses, there’s more supporting cast introduced. Kim Basinger, Matt Bomer, Yaya DaCosta. Basinger’s terrible and derails the movie. Boomer’s terrible, but because of the script and the directing, he’s just aboard while it derails. DaCosta’s got a thin part, but she’s good.

Technically, Nice Guys is solid. Black’s direction is fine—he doesn’t have a single well-directed action sequence, though, which is a problem—Philippe Rousselot’s photography is good, John Ottman and David Buckley’s music always seems like it’s just about to get good and never does. The visual stars are obviously production designer Richard Bridgland and costume designer Kym Barrett’s recreation of seventies L.A. In some ways, it’s more impressive how much they’re able to recreate, not their actual designs.

Nice Guys is fine. It’s got a whole bunch of problems, and all of them are Black’s, but it’s fine. It’s better than the Shane Black movies it rips off but not better than the other movies it rips off.

Evil (2019) s02e10 – O Is for Ovaphobia

All right, seriously, is Mike Colter okay? He’s literally only the episode as a sidekick. He’s in an interview montage, he and Aasif Mandvi follow someone, he goes into the fertility clinic for a non-scene with Mandvi and Herbers, and he’s there for the initial team meeting. Otherwise, he’s not in the episode. Wait, he runs into Christine Lahti in an awkward situation. That scene lasts maybe ninety seconds. Maybe. When everyone said they didn’t really want him to become a priest, it didn’t mean they didn’t want him on the show….

But there’s also no Church case in this episode. The procedural isn’t a procedural. Herbers is trying to figure out how she’s still got eggs on ice at the demonic fertility clinic when she hasn’t been paying any of the bills, which puts her on to suspicious, religious gynecologist Francesca Faridany. It’s more Herbers’s B-plot, with her daughter Maddy Crocco’s self-image issues. Initially, it seems like it’s about her vampire teeth—side effects of the demonic fertility clinic—than about her weight, but then it turns out to be about something else entirely.

Something fantastic.

Meanwhile, Mandvi’s got a fantastic adventure with girlfriend Nicole Shalhoub, who wants to get exorcized of her twin ghost sister and drags Mandvi along. It gets more and more concerning throughout, cliffhanging with the extraordinary. So both Mandvi and Herbers (or Crocco) have actually supernatural arcs going on, with “Evil” ratcheting up the possibility of confirming it sooner than later.

The other big arc is Lahti—against her better judgment—getting involved with Michael Emerson, who introduces her to silver fox creep, Tim Matheson. Giving Emerson an actual human friend or two makes his storyline seemingly less supernatural. So the show’s grounding him while letting Mandvi and Crocco take proverbial flight. Herbers is entirely unaware—everyone else goes to Mandvi for help, but he doesn’t share his love life intrigues with anyone—ditto Colter, though for different reasons. Crocco’s calmly not telling Mom everything but Colter’s just not around enough. We don’t even get meditating montages.

Good acting from Herbers, Mandvi, and Lahti. Matheson and Emerson seem like edge lord frat boy rapists gone grey, which is probably the idea. Crocco’s fine, but her arc is only about working towards the reveal. Shalhoub’s in a similar situation where the episode’s tricking the audience with her scenes, so she doesn’t work up any momentum.

It seems to be a bridging episode, which is fine. The plotting just plays a little off. Especially if the show eventually rationalizes all the fantastical stuff.

Takin’ Over the Asylum (1994) s01e06 – Let It Be

The last episode takes place over at most a week, but it feels like much longer. There’s this “show don’t tell” backfire where Ken Stott has hit bottom and he’s laying about in a destroyed apartment, on a bender, and then we find out it’s like three hours after the last scene. And we’ve missed the most important character development he could’ve had in the skipped time.

Everything gets a resolution this episode, which is again very impressive plotting from Donna Franceschild. Thanks to her and director David Blair, “Takin’ Over the Asylum” has a lot of impact in its six hours. Though… I guess it might play different if you’re watching it weekly and not binging over a few days.

Anyway.

While Stott’s got his home with grandma Elizabeth Spriggs moving back to Lithuania (to die, like short long-term plan, which is actually the grimmest “Asylum” gets and it’s real grim), his work with boss Roy Hanlon (who’s got some amazing monologues this episode), the radio show drama with David Tennant at Radio Scotland (they’re waiting to hear back on the response to their pilot), and then Katy Murphy being near catatonic after the events of the previous episode… the show still finds time to give Ruth McCabe a full arc, for episode and show.

Jon Morrison is back as McCabe’s husband, checking in on her at the residential apartments or whatever the euphemism (bed and breakfast, I think), when she finds out she’s got her placement in the nice place. Now, originally the show said that placement would take months, though… in some ways, McCabe’s arc this episode is so entirely disconnected from the rest of it maybe its got a different present action. Certainly feels like it.

It’s also great. McCabe and Morrison get this fantastic spotlight as they try to make sense of their lives after the various tragedies. It balances out Murphy not being too active in her own arc with Stott.

When the episode—and show—ends the Stott arc, the McCabe and Morrison one has done some heavy lifting through juxtaposition, if not directly saying things relevant to Stott and Murphy’s not dissimilar situation, then making a lot of implications about it. I just thought of another one, in fact.

It’s deft writing from Franceschild, well-directed by Blair, but a little too clean. “Asylum” could’ve ended stronger. Though… it’s hard to say what impact the original recording of Let It Be would’ve had. The show does adequate cover versions but they’re always clearly cover versions.

The narrative balance would’ve still been off.

“Asylum”’s actors could’ve used another episode—Tennant especially, he’s been a great, but glorified sidekick since episode two—and it certainly seems like Franceschild and Blair could’ve delivered it, but there might just be too much sadness to it at episode seven.

“Takin’ Over the Asylum”’s an exceptional show. It’s ambitious, it’s assured, great writing from Franceschild, great performances from Stott, McCabe, Tennant, Murphy—Hanlon. Wonderful, wonderful Hanlon. It also puts your heart into a meat grinder and turns and turns and turns.

It’s a guilty relief when it’s over.

Takin’ Over the Asylum (1994) s01e05 – Rainy Night in Georgia

I guess it’s Katy Murphy’s spotlight episode now? The question mark because Murphy’s entirely in support of Ken Stott throughout the episode, so even though she’s in it more and we finally find out her backstory, she’s just the love interest. Especially when Stott’s drinking problems come up—he makes a full disclosure about it to her; to be fair, the drinking at work seemed so casually accepted I thought it was just Scotland in 1994.

But, no, it’s actually a big problem. Especially now Stott and David Tennant seem on the verge of getting a gig at Radio Scotland. It’s really interesting to see how “Asylum” presents Stott’s anxiety over meeting with producer Arabella Weir, as he’s ostensibly the only well-adjusted lead character. Lots of good acting from Stott. Lots. Even if it comes at the expense of other actors, like Tennant and Murphy. Murphy so, so much.

There’s a whole kittens in the wild needing protection and tween boys starting fires subplot, which has tragic consequences but also very human ones, leaving Stott—not Murphy—to realize more about the reality of the hospital and how it actually functions.

Stott’s also got home and work issues—grandmother Elizabeth Spriggs is serious about moving to Lithuania and she really wants Stott to pay for it, which leads to more of an emphasis on work—including getting in a feud with alpha salesman Neil McKinven. As usual, Roy Hanlon’s amazing as Stott’s boss. There’s a whole shenanigan sequence with McKiven, Stott, and Hanlon, which seems like screwball—with director David Blair keeping it from going too far—but only Hanlon is at home in the mixed genres. He’s so good.

But it’s not entirely Stott-centered (with Murphy and Tennant his sidekicks), there’s also the ongoing tragedy of Ruth McCabe’s living situation. She’s still literally hiding from the social worker so she doesn’t get dumped at a gross halfway house. While definitely effective, the humor isn’t quite gallows enough. Writer Donna Franceschild never quite figures it out, even when the arc seemingly resolves here.

As usual, it’s an excellent hour of television. The way Murphy’s still a mystery for Stott to unravel versus the guest lead is unfortunate, albeit narratively driven.

The cliffhanger’s probably the show’s bleakest to date, which is saying something.

Takin’ Over the Asylum (1994) s01e04 – Fool on the Hill

With the radio station seemingly on steady ground for the first time the whole show, “Takin’ Over the Asylum” gets going on some more subplots. This episode gives Angus Macfadyen a spotlight, the station’s de facto engineer who’s about to get released and needs help from someone on the outside to get a job. Luckily, Ken Stott’s willing to give him a good reference, though things at the window company are getting iffy for Stott after boss Roy Hanlon finds out about him volunteering at a mental hospital to run their radio station.

Volunteering isn’t something a salesman should do, Hanlon says. Because salesmen are quite obviously terrible human beings.

But Stott’s also got a lot of other things going on. He takes Katy Murphy on something like a proper date, grandmother Elizabeth Spriggs announces she’s returning to Lithuania to live out her last days and Stott needs to pay for it, and then the small matter of David Tennant getting he and Stott an audition at Radio Scotland.

There’s this great clash of dreams with Stott and Tennant, with Stott getting so close to such an old dream while Tennant’s getting so close so fast. Their success—or nearness to success—comes as Macfadyen clashes with new doctor Kika Markham over his future potential and with hospital administrator Sandra Voe, who refuses to let Macfadyen do technical work in the radio station. And then there’s Ruth McCabe, who’s having to hide from nurse Angela Bruce and the social worker because she’s about to get kicked of the hospital and into a “bed and breakfast” group home because her husband doesn’t want to take her back.

Macfadyen’s got an exceptional arc this episode, with a lot to do at various times, and some excellent support from Murphy. Donna Franceschild’s script once again finds this wonderful way of connecting the characters and subplots, which leads to these profound moments of character development. Really good performance from Macfadyen here; he’s been the most supporting of the radio station “staff” (though maybe it just took until episode four for his spotlight) and he does a fine job scaling up to lead here.

Despite not mentioning him much just because of the nature of the episode structure, Tennant does a great job on his arc too. “Asylum” has its protagonist, Stott, but when Tennant’s on screen you forget he’s not the star. And then Franceschild and director David Blair figure how to spotlight an additional “temporary” lead with Macfadyen. It’s really well-done. This episode’s probably the series’s most impressive so far, if not just the best overall.

Takin’ Over the Asylum (1994) s01e03 – You Always Hurt the One You Love

Was there a doctor appearance last episode? I can’t remember. This episode has the first doctor-involved subplot, this time doctor David Robb, who can’t see a reason to keep Ruth McCabe in the hospital anymore since all she needs is medication to keep her OCD in check and her husband, Jon Morrison (incorrectly credited as Jim Morrison, which almost seems intentional since a Doors poster is prominent in radio station shots), is willing to take her back if she’ll just take that medicine.

Of course, McCabe doesn’t want to take the medicine. She’s been flourishing at the radio station and felt good about herself. David Tennant is basically McCabe’s sidekick for this arc, with her figuring into his arc about saving the radio station. But we also get to hear about McCabe’s backstory, which involves a whole bunch of tragedy and a whole bunch of psychological abuse from Morrison. Except—and the show’s amazing about how it acknowledges this facet without any sort of judgment–Morrison’s kind of dumb. Like. He’s a dumb lug and even though he’s a dick, he’s not unsympathetic. Writer Donna Franceschild does a phenomenal job weaving the subplots through one another, with Tennant’s subplot informing McCabe’s not just throughout but also in their resolutions. It’s deftly done.

Similarly, Ken Stott’s got a lot to do with the saving the station arc—though mostly crapping on it because he’s being a pessimist because he just got to this place two episodes ago and it didn’t seem to occur to the people who brought him in—those unseen people—they might need to keep the equipment running. Sandra Voe is back to rain on Stott’s parade—no money from the hospital and also don’t get too close to those damaged patients. Particularly Katy Murphy, who Stott continues to gently court, often making predictable and unpredictable mistakes.

We find out Stott’s sweet on Murphy for sure when grandma Elizabeth Spriggs presses him on why doesn’t he have a wife yet and why doesn’t she have three great-grandchildren like her friends. Spriggs is a weird character; she ought to be some kind of comic relief but instead she’s just tragic and depressing.

Meanwhile at work, Stott’s now in the elite salesman of the month club, which pisses off work adversary Neil McKinven, who’s now out to get Stott for not being a real salesman. We also miss out on Stott’s speech accepting the award. It does seem like that scene should have been in there, if only to give Stott some awkward time at the podium with obnoxious boss Roy Hanlon.

It’s a somewhat circular episode—the radio station plot is always in pseudo-motion only to get back to where it started from—but the great character development keeps it all moving forward.