Grantchester (2014) s08e04

“Grantchester” toes an interesting line with religion and religiosity. It avoids it. Yes, the show’s full of religious imagery, complete with beautifully lighted sequences where Tom Brittney gives a lovely sermon and it’s never about being shitty; it’s always about how God’s actually all for the gays and so forth. Because, besides Brittney and Al Weaver, all of the characters on the show are functionally atheists. Even the extremely religious Tessa Peake-Jones. She doesn’t believe the way Brittney and Weaver believe.

It comes out this episode big time with Brittney. Turns out he lied to Charlotte Ritchie last episode, and he’s not okay; he’s not getting better—even worse, we find out God doesn’t talk to him anymore. Now, no spoilers, but we will find out some things about how God speaks to Brittney. Good tortured expression acting from Brittney; if writer Helen Black wasn’t trying to make a certain point, however… well, it’s concerning. Or is it just going to be about the de-faithing of England. Or it’s just a story arc and not a big deal.

God abandoning Brittney is a story arc because they need to get Brittney moping. “Grantchester” was infamously about a mopey vicar who got drunk, listened to jazz, and bedded many, many women while mooning over some shallow girl. Brittney isn’t that mopey vicar. He doesn’t have the mope down, not as an actor, not as a character. When Brittney mopes, it feels like he’s overstepping—“Grantchester”’s supposed to be an ensemble now, and his moping is getting in the way. Also, he’s not being self-destructive; he’s just moping.

He’s not even listening to jazz.

Good mystery this episode. One of Weaver’s halfway house residents turns up dead. Santo Tripodi plays the victim. Halfway house troublemaker Narinder Samra is a too-obvious suspect. “Grantchester” has been letting Samra simmer nicely in the background for a couple episodes, and it really pays off here–Samra’s phenomenal. See, even though the town wants the halfway house gone, when Brittney and Robson Green start investigating, they learn these men mostly just lost their way after a war. So it’s a very personal case.

And let’s not forget Peake-Jones’s husband, Nick Brimble, is paying for the halfway house, which Weaver started after deciding he didn’t want to run his cafe (which Brimble also paid for), leaving boyfriend Oliver Dimsdale to run the cafe and be a photographer. Weaver’s got a tough arc this episode. They leave it open, too, so hopefully, we’ll get some more material for Weaver and Dimsdale before the season’s done.

There are only two more episodes, so if it’s not a subplot by now, it won’t be a subplot.

It also seems like Ritchie won’t figure in prominently, which is too bad. Especially since Brittney’s just moping instead.

Anyway.

Good supporting performances from all the suspects—David Rubin as the guy with a locked room alibi, George Brockbanks as an old collar of Green’s, Jessie Bedrossian as the one female resident in the house, who might be causing love triangles. It’s a really good mystery–definitely the best of the season, with a great finale.

And Simone Lahbib’s still around. She joined last episode as Weaver’s maid, who now gets into competitions with Peake-Jones, which is hilarious. It gives Brimble a little more to do than usual. He’s still mostly an accessory, but he gets to keep pace with an amped-up Peake-Jones.

Outside the ending, which just foretells more sad Brittney… it’s a stellar episode. Director Rob Evans and writer Anita Vettesse cook up a model “Grantchester.”

Grantchester (2014) s08e02

Maybe the first three-quarters of this episode is the best “Grantchester”’s been in ages. And “Grantchester”’s a perfectly good show, they just really figure out a way to knock it out of the park here. Last episode laid out the new normal—vicar Tom Brittney married to Charlotte Ritchie, playing stepdad to Isaac Highams—and then saw Brittney run down some pedestrian while out zooming on his motorcycle.

This episode’s got Robson Green trying to protect Brittney best he can, with sidekick Bradley Hall low-key trying to sabotage in an effort to suck up to big boss Michael D. Xavier. Last season, Brittney had an indiscreet relationship with Xavier’s fiancée, breaking up the engagement, and Xavier’s holding a grudge.

So when it seems like Brittney was going nearly eighty miles an hour when he hit the guy, Xavier’s thrilled, Green’s mortified, and Brittney’s screwed.

Pretty quickly the episode gins up a way to get Al Weaver into the story (in this case, into the story means into a jail cell to talk to Brittney). Behind Green’s back, Hall goes to roust Weaver’s halfway house. Along with giving Weaver and Brittney a great scene, the subplot gets Hall in deep water with office secretary Melissa Johns, who doesn’t like it when he’s shitty.

For a relatively substantial portion of the episode, it feels like a backdoor pilot for Hall and Johns to carry. If Johns is around, Hall can not come off like a weasel, and there’s a charm to it. Unfortunately, even as Hall gets a bit more character development this episode, it doesn’t appear he’s any less of a weasel than he seems. He’s just a different kind of weasel.

When the episode’s at its best, Green is trying to do what he sees as his job—solving a crime, whereas Hall and Xavier just want to get a result. Juxtaposed is Brittney’s guilt arc, which has some major high points but then fizzles for the conclusion. During that fizzle, Green’s investigation arc is similarly bubbly. The episode throws in one too many twists.

Excellent performances from Weaver, Green, and Brittney this episode. Tessa Peake-Jones, Kacey Ainsworth, and Nick Brimble are all super-peripheral, none really getting much to do other than remind everyone they’re regulars, and also Highams’s got supervision. Ritchie does a voice spot, which may or may not end up being more filler.

But most of the episode’s outstanding, and the rest’s pretty good.

Grantchester (2014) s08e01

The mystery in “Grantchester”’s season premiere seems a tad simple. The episode’s got lots of foreshadowing—whether it’s the victim (warning: the episode kills a teenager, which is harsh), the suspects, or the season setup. I’d forgotten “Grantchester” saves the biggest twist for last, and the finale takes the proverbial cake away from the other established season subplots. Until the final scene, it seems like we’re in for a season involving Robson Green’s impending (and forced) retirement, newlyweds Tom Brittney and Charlotte Ritchie expecting a baby while Brittney learns to dad with step-son Isaac Highams, and then Al Weaver’s trying to start-up a halfway house amid NIMBY neighbors.

All of those subplots will doubtlessly continue, but none of them are going to be the main season plotline. It even ties into this episode’s mystery a little: the dangers of motorbiking.

While the people of “Grantchester” aren’t sure about having a bunch of young people, boys, girls, Blacks, whites, in motorcycle clubs, Brittney’s sure it’s a good idea. Local mechanic Shaun Dingwall agrees, turning his garage into a de facto clubhouse where the “gang” can fix up their bikes and hang out. In addition to Dingwall’s son, Elliot Norman, there’s Black (and deaf) orphan Jayden Reid, as well as “girls can bike too” Antonia Rita. Except, we’ll find out as the episode progresses, Rita’s about the only one who thinks girls should be allowed to bike. Especially in competition.

Everyone in “Grantchester” seems vaguely progressive until Rita talks about how Dingwall tells the kids how women competing would “lessen the sport.” More competition leads to less sportsmanship. Wokka wokka.

Brittney’s put together a charity race for the teen biker gangs, and—for a moment—the townspeople embrace the youth and their interests. It all goes wrong after the murder, of course, and the cliffhanger isn’t going to help things; but for a brief moment, Brittney’s convinced everyone to show some grace.

Though he’s having his own problems being graceful at home. Ritchie’s sensible atheism really doesn’t jibe with Brittney’s Anglicanism, especially not when she makes more sense than him.

The show’s gone from having, basically, a cast of four—Green, Weaver, vicarage housekeeper Tessa Peake-Jones (who doesn’t have a season subplot yet), and the hot young vicar (Brittney’s officially put in more time than James Norton at this point)—to twelve-ish. The show infamously doesn’t name Green and Kacey Ainsworth’s kids (other than Skye Lucia Degruttola, who got a subplot a few seasons ago), but they’re still around. With everyone paired off, there are plus ones, there are kids–so, big regular cast.

So big the initial season setup doesn’t even have time for a mystery.

The episode starts sturdy, a little predictable, sure, but in a victory lap sort of way. Then, the cliffhanger writes a big dramatic check for things going forward. This season’s not just going to be Green bucking against dipshit boss Michael D. Xavier and Brittney taking forever to listen to advice.

Can’t wait.

Though I’m sure Brittney will also take forever to listen to anyone else.

Grantchester (2014) s06e04

Despite having a frustratingly bland main plot, this episode of “Grantchester” also has some of the best material I can remember ever being on the show.

The episode picks up an indeterminate period from the previous; Al Weaver is awaiting his trial for “gross indecency” and spending his days—presumably unable to perform duties as curate—in his room getting drunk on vodka and listening to jazz. No one comments it’s like having James Norton back, but it’d have been amazing if someone did. I was actually waiting for it, but then it turns out Weaver’s a nasty drunk who’s mean to everyone, including Tessa Peake-Jones and Oliver Dimsdale. The episode will end up being about Weaver and Dimsdale and being a gay couple in fifties England, and it’s phenomenal stuff. It more than makes up for the clunky A-plot.

And while the A-plot is clunky—in the course of an investigation, Robson Green finds something out about Tom Brittney’s wealthy kid upbringing, and it seemingly breaks their friendship. The majority of the episode takes place one evening in the police station, where dipshit copper Bradley Hall hauls in some drunk U.S. airmen, and then there’s a mysterious death, and none of the airmen will give statements. Brittney’s only at the station because his step-sister, Emily Patrick, has been arrested for dine-and-dashing; they’d usually let a rich girl go, but she apparently knicked a valuable; only she won’t agree to a search, so she’s just hanging around Green’s office, verbally abusing the working class.

Including new office girl Melissa Johns, who’s been around since the second episode of the season and has been likable enough, but now she gets a bunch to do, and she’s excellent.

The rift between Brittney and Green doesn’t lead to any good acting together—it’s too sudden, too contrived, too forced into the restricted confines—but it does give Green, independently, some material. Brittney and Patrick, however, do get some good scenes together, with Patrick sort of establishing herself as a decent supporting “Grantchester” character by the end of the episode. Hopefully, she won’t be too regular. She’s rather unpleasant.

Another problem with the mystery plot, besides the sort of hackneyed story, is the acting. Ben Wiggins has a bunch to do as the American officer who bonds with fellow vet Green, only Wiggins isn’t any good. It’s vaguely rude to call him out for his Brit-playing-Yank abilities considering Corey Johnson, who is American, is also bad playing an American. But the other U.S. servicemen—particularly Victor Alli, who’s a Black man in a white man’s airforce stationed in a different white man’s country—are good. And they’re British actors. So whatever’s wrong with Wiggins, it’s not his inability to cross the pond in his performance. And with him being so milquetoast, the whole plot crumbles.

It doesn’t matter, of course, because everything at the station is just busywork between Weaver and Dimsdale scenes. The acting from Dimsdale is particularly phenomenal.

Louise Ironside’s got the script credit—British shows I think really do just credit the actual writer—and while her mystery isn’t great, her narrative construction and character drama are aces. And it’s not her fault they miscast.

The great stuff here is enough to make for a genuinely spectacular episode… even accounting for the gross missteps in casting and plotting.

Grantchester (2014) s06e03

This episode succeeds in ratcheting up Al Weaver’s arc to an almost intolerable point. The cliffhanger is less shocking than the last couple of episodes. Despite being abbreviated, it actually relieves some stress in its rush. Things go from bad to worse, as a boulder of fifties bigotry strikes almost everyone in the main cast. Including people outside the vicarage like Kacey Ainsworth, who finds herself again at an impasse with Robson Green on his apparent two-facedness with the “gross indecency” law. They’re basically couples friends with Weaver and Oliver Dimsdale now, after all. There’s some profound subtext in the dialogue about Green and Ainsworth’s marriage, mainly how he can negotiate being a police officer when he doesn’t believe in the laws. It’s a nice character development scene and informs Green’s frustration with Tom Brittney later on.

Because it’s going to be up to Brittney to either lie for Weaver or exonerate him through lying. Everyone else has been in for questioning, including Tessa Peake-Jones, who has her own arc about the investigation and comes out a lot more sympathetic than initially implied. Green’s dipshit cop sidekick, Bradley Hall, is really gung ho to prosecute Weaver—and out Dimsdale too if he can—and there’s only so much Green can do to steer the interviews out of Hall’s grasp. It’s going to be up to Brittney. The episode reminds the audience every five to ten minutes.

So then the murder plot—it feels almost strange to call it the A plot, though this one does take up more of the episode because the B plot figures into both it and the Weaver plot. The murder plot involves the local town council election; tragically widowed Rebecca Front against scheming bigot entrepreneur Will Hislop (who’s so villainous he should worry about getting typecast). Front’s husband was on the town council for years and then suddenly killed himself. Front’s trying to get his chair. Hislop and cousin Orlando Wells are out to take it back for the right kind of Briton.

There’s a bit about Front as an assertive woman in the fifties, but it ends up overshadowed thanks to her pal, Jonathan Aris. Aris is a novelist in town to help her in her mourning and maybe research a new book. His interests intersect with Brittney and Green’s, so he’s around a lot. Front’s around at the beginning of the episode, but then a lot less. There are more than a few scenes where she’s used as scenery, figuratively passed between characters to get a reaction. Richard Cookson’s got the script credit; there are some really thin stretches of the plot, particularly with the murder mystery. All of the attention goes to Weaver’s arc, which Brittney unwittingly drags into the political story.

Lots of good acting. Weaver, Peake-Jones, Brittney gets in a couple terrific scenes. Gary Beadle’s back as the bigot Archdeacon. Aris could be better. There’s just something insubstantial about his performance like he and Front don’t really click as good friends; plus, he always seems like he’s going to rip off his mustache for a Scooby-Doo reveal.

But who cares about the mystery arc when the character drama stuff is so much better. “Grantchester”’s relentless this season.

Grantchester (2014) s06e02

The “A plot” involving a seemingly mercenary adoption provider (Christina Cole) ends up being almost incidental thanks to the cliffhanger. See, “Grantchester” isn’t wasting any time with the season arc involving blackmailing camp staffer Michael Abubakar coming after Al Weaver for a pay-off, so the world doesn’t find out the local curate was wiping a man’s cheek. Possibly. Abubakar had actually walked in on Weaver and boyfriend Oliver Dimsdale—trying to walk back his attempted kiss—but Abubakar didn’t understand Weaver and Dimsdale were a couple. It doesn’t help when he does find out.

So it’s not going to be something to come back later on; it’s the season subplot. The only one so far. Unless there’s something with Tom Brittney and his new obnoxious rich girl step-sister Emily Patrick. Patrick wasn’t at the wedding of Brittney’s mom, Jemma Redgrave, and her dad, Dominic Mafham, because Patrick would’ve intentionally ruined it. So Mafham shipped her away. The step-siblings are only now meeting, and they take an instant dislike to one another, both because Brittney’s a vicar and because Patrick’s a spoiled brat.

There are some great moments in the A-plot, of course, mostly involving Robson Green and fatherhood. The case involves a poor couple, Madison Clare and Eddie-Joe Robinson, whose baby—post-adoption (she consented, he did not)—is now with rich asshole Miles Jupp and his disinterested wife, Polly Frame. Robinson’s trying to get the baby back, which leads to Green and Brittney confronting Cole; for a while, it seems like there might not even be a murder this episode, just less depressing “Call the Midwife,” with Weaver’s subplot getting the spotlight, but eventually there’s a corpse.

The episode sticks to the “Call the Midwife” approach, focusing on the people involved. Again the thread of fifties misogyny comes up, with a fair amount of classism mixed in, plus Brittney flexing the Church’s muscles against secular charities like Cole’s. That tangent goes the fastest, with one of the expecting mothers, Rebecca Stone, surprisingly telling Brittney off, and he doesn’t bring it up again. Though he’s too busy interfering with Weaver’s subplot; the scene where Brittney has to remember Abubakar confronting him about Weaver’s indiscretions to think potential blackmailers is very peculiar because the audience knows Brittney should know who’s blackmailing Weaver for being gay and the holiday camp because it was one of his plots last episode. Only Brittney plays it completely oblivious. Eventually, there’s an excellent scene where Weaver has some words with Brittney about the quality of his allyship. “Grantchester” seems to be making a big swing with this subplot.

The murder resolve isn’t particularly good. It’s logically sound, and the pieces fit, and it allows for an aspirational ending—before the brutal hard cliffhanger—but it’s kind of blah. Especially since it means a big part of the episode was intentionally undercooked.

The Green parenting talk scene—when he lectures heir-minded Jupp about children—makes it pretty much worth it, though.

Grantchester (2014) s06e01

It’s summertime in “Grantchester,” and still newish vicar Tom Brittney is fully invested in his work but worried he’s missing something. He apparently gripes about it so much, curate and friend Al Weaver suggests they go on vacation. It then turns into the entire “Grantchester” cast at a fifties holiday camp. They even bring along all of Robson Green and Kacey Ainsworth’s kids, though all but Skye Lucia Degruttola disappear after a while only to return for the leaving camp sequence. For a while, it seems like bored teen Degruttola’s going to get an arc of her own—she and Weaver bond over preferring reading to hula hoop contests (you know, for kids)—and then she mad crushes on a rock ’n roller in the camp band. But she doesn’t. Because even though there’s time for adorable stuff for all the couples, Brittney’s flying solo, and he’s ready for a murder to solve.

Luckily, someone drops dead on their first night, and pretty soon, Brittney’s convinced Green they need to look into it. Mostly because local cop Sam Phillips’s a lightweight and because Green’s run out of camp things he enjoys the first night. Like drinking beer. Ainsworth occasionally shows up to get Green for date nights and the matinees, so it’s good the investigation doesn’t require the boys’ full attention. Especially since everyone in camp is trying to set Brittney up with camp staffer Jordan Alexandra. Including initially friendly staffer Michael Abubakar and camp co-owner (well, her husband owns it, but it was her father’s, but women can’t own stuff, you know) Annette McLaughlin. Not to mention all of Brittney’s friends.

He’s reluctant, however. And possibly for good reason, because once Green and Brittney start digging into the death, they discover everyone at the camp—staff and even guests—have some big secrets. Some people know some of the secrets, while others know all of the secrets, and it’s right up until the last minute before they figure out how the overlap works. It’s during a very welcome sequence for Alexandra, who has an unexpected dream entertainment career. It figures in beautifully to the not subtle, “wow, the fifties were a shit time to be a woman” commentary. Everyone gets a little bit of it—though maybe not Ainsworth, other than Degruttola’s mortified embarrassment–including Tessa Peake-Jones, McLaughlin, and principal fellow guest guest star Rachael Stirling. Stirling and McLaughlin both have bores and boars for husbands, while Peake-Jones deals with shitty Southerners.

Even with the spotlight on misogyny, the first half of the episode’s pretty fun. It’s a vacation, after all. Peake-Jones and husband Nick Brimble aren’t just adorable; she’s also not bigot-y towards Weaver and Oliver Dimsdale, so they get to nearly be a couple in public for once. Amongst good friends.

The second half gets a lot less fun, with Weaver unintentionally getting into an awkward situation followed by a perilous one. It’s a particularly affecting arc, thanks to Weaver’s performance as he’s further and further boxed in.

The mystery solution’s not a big surprise, but it’s got a bunch of good acting around it, and the episode manages to find a mostly happy balance for the close. Right up until the hard cliffhanger for what seems to be the season arc.

Staged (2020) s2

So when we watched the first series of “Staged,” I’d forgotten the original episodes were fifteen minutes; we watched the extended ones. Now, this second series either doesn’t have extended episodes or doesn’t have extended episodes yet. Eight episodes, fifteen minutes each, works out to a grand total of two hours. And I don’t know if the original series feels like this one—when it’s just leads David Tennant and Michael Sheen bantering their way through the main plot with the slightest diversion into the supporting cast—or if the original series is more balanced.

Because there’s no subplots in series two. It’s all about the guest stars each episode and whether or not they can get bigger names. It starts with Michael Palin in the first episode of the series, but the guest star gets increase over time. They save the Oscar winner for the last episode again.

This series is about the the series; Sheen, Tennant, and Simon Evans created this show for the BBC called “Staged,” it was popular, now they’re going to be making an American version only it’s not going to involve Sheen and Tennant. They’re recasting it. So this second series becomes Sheen and Tennant in video chats with whichever guest stars, who often are doing scenes from the first series, playing Sheen and Tennant. It’s often very funny and an episode’s success entirely hinges on the guest stars they’re able to get, which also might’ve been the case in the first series and they just added the subplots involving the supporting cast to the extended editions.

For example, there’s seemingly a subplot for wives Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg (and fellow girl Lucy Eaton, Simon’s sister) but it only gets a handful of scenes and we don’t even get to see the pay-off from it. The pay-offs always about the guest stars they’re able to get.

And it’s kind of hard to talk about the guest stars because they’re varied—multiple UK movie and TV stars from famous shows and movies, then the occasional American (which often plays even better because the Americans don’t approach Sheen and Tennant with the professional expectations their UK colleagues put on them). While the American movie stars are the biggest names, they actually tend to have been in more successful projects than their British counterparts. But then it’s going to be spoilers, because every time one of the guest stars shows up, it’s an almost immediate surprise laugh. Because it’s just Sheen and Tennant, who are working with the opposite’s potential actor—so Tennant works with the Sheen actors and Sheen works with the Tennant actors—they all eventually turn into these hilarious bad talk therapy sessions as Sheen and Tennant try to work out their hostilities with each other on the guest stars.

Except since the first series is fictional in the second series, there’s none of that existing character development—initially they even have Sheen play the more Tennant temperament and vice versa–and with no time for subplots, it’s all about the banter and who can banter the best. Until the last guest star episode, where the show once again brings out the big guns, usually Sheen and Tennant “win” their banter scenes with the guest stars. There are a couple notable exceptions. Again, no spoilers, but they’re the Americans.

One of the other things about the show is the reduction of Evans’s part; he’s now in Los Angeles—the series takes place in a window where lockdown had ended and everyone’s trying to get on with their lives, which dates it far more than the first series because the video chatting seems a lot more contrived—but anyway, Evans is in L.A. and he’s working on the new show and deceiving Tennant and Sheen about their roles in it. It’s a glorified cameo.

Though then again everyone from the first series has a glorified cameo, with the wives just scenery and Eaton basically just around a couple times in case you missed her. Given Eaton and Evans had the best character arc in the first series (though probably only in the extended episodes), it feels a lot more like a gimmick than an actual narrative this time around.

For regular supporting cast, the series adds Whoopi Goldberg not playing Whoopi Goldberg, but playing Sheen and Tennant’s agent. Ben Schwartz plays her assistant, who’s got a mad crush on Tennant, something Sheen enjoys leveraging. It’s a pointless stunt cast on Goldberg, who’s barely in it. Schwartz is funny but it’s one note.

“Staged: Series Two” has a great cast, hilarious episodes, a downright rewarding conclusion, but it compares rather poorly to the original series. It doesn’t ask much from Sheen and Tennant, instead just riffing on things they did last series, sometimes to hilarious effect but it’s always easy. And entirely contingent on having seen the first series, which—depending on the version you watched—might make this series seem paltry in comparison.

I’m curious if there will be extended versions but also rather cautious about them. It’s good, but a disappointment. More of it might just be more disappointing.

If you’ve seen the first series, it’s a solid two hour binge watch. Even if you saw the extended versions—the second series plays like a home video special feature—though at that point, they could’ve gone even shorter with this series as a postscript for the first. Like as an hour long holiday special or something.

Staged (2020) s02

I’m curious if there will be extended versions but also rather cautious about them. It’s good, but a disappointment. More of it might just be more disappointing.

Staged (2020) s01e06 – The Cookie Jar, the extended version

“Staged” brings out its biggest gun this episode—bigger than Sam Jackson—but I can’t spoil because it’s way too perfect. There are some great jokes going back to the first episode as we find out how David Tennant and Michael Sheen are going to be able to get over themselves and work on this play together.

Well. Not exactly because the episode starts with Tennant ready to quit the play and not just because Sheen has discovered another thing Tennant doesn’t know but really should know so gets to mock him for it. There’s a little comeuppance for Sheen later one—in the big gun segment, which is perfect—but then the ending sequence kind of makes it all about Tennant being inept again.

It’s funny stuff. And eventually as close to wholesome as “Staged” has ever gotten. But it does lead to the most affecting character development on the show being Lucy Eaton and Simon Davis, as adult siblings who manage to reconnect during lockdown in no small part due to Davis being a bit of a dip, and then Sheen’s concern for his elderly and always offscreen neighbor. The Sheen subplot means more for Anne Lundberg.

Meanwhile, all the Tennant household gets a screenwriting subplot so David doesn’t feel too inferior to novelist wife Georgia. Again… making David Tennant the dopey dad is a waste of talent and way too easy. Though given the lockdown constraint, I guess it should get a pass. Right?

Anyway.

There’s another great scene from Nina Sosanya as the play producer who manages to know more about what’s going on without talking to the stars than Davis who is talking to the stars.

It’s a very nice finish to the series; makes you wonder if they had the special guest star in mind all the time. Because sometimes deus ex machina stunt casts are the right choice.