This week on Roswell: Apparently, someone down at Continuity Headquarters has been a bit sleepy on the job and chosen to neglect the unwritten truism that we, the audience, at least have to meet a so-called "major" character before investing emotionally when suddenly faced with the prospect of watching said character, oh, I dont know, spontaneously burst into flames. For instance. So, in a vague and slightly patronizing attempt to hoodwink the viewer into believing that we know Max and Isabels mother so intimately that she might as well have borne all of us herself, we begin the week with a poorly edited and emotionally vacuous "previously on Roswell" that prominently features the nine cumulative seconds Mrs. Evans has spent on screen thus far in the series, as if this "Greatest Hits Of This Total Stranger" package is in some way synonymous with the lost art known in old-fashioned circles as "character development." Hmmm. Those were the two longest sentences -- ever. With a really, really tiny one in between.
Fade in on a distractingly non-sequitur hand-held shot from the upcoming UPN reality special Worlds Most Sinister Footage Of Non-Threatening Birds in Flight, which inexplicably gives way to a close-up of vegetables being tossed into a frying pan. Um, whats going on? I feel suddenly as if I have stumbled upon some experimental German short film, whereby juxtaposed shots of birds and frying food make total sense in some really artistic, non-linear way. I half-expect said German art film to go full tilt "Deiters Dream" and the shot to be an extreme close-up of an old man lying in a baby carriage, wearing a bonnet and yelling "Schnell! Schnell!" for some reason only understood to the German film making community, like a joke shared by the Eastern-Bloc power elite whose laughter we cant hear, muffled as it is behind the Iron Curtain. But before I have a chance to corroborate these hypotheses by running out to my local video store and renting anything with the word "Das" in the title, the Frying-Pan Cam ends its artistic reign and we cut upwards to reveal the kitchen at Chez Evans, where Mrs. "I Hope These Bangs Arent Genetic" Evans is sharing some bonding time with Max "These Bangs Are Definitely Genetic, Even Though Im Adopted" Evans. Shes slaving over a hot frying pan while Max sits at the kitchen table, deep in pretending hes not an alien. Good luck keeping that charade up till the end of this scene. Max looks over at his mom and chides her, "Hey, mom, why dont you put a little more garlic in there," to which I want her to shoot back, "Why dont you cook the goddamn meal yourself, Mr. Frugal Goddamn Gourmet?" But she doesnt, and I realize with incredulous horror that Im already bored. Bangs responds with some comment about how uncorked she gets when Maxs father is out of town, and then quickly turns the subject to Maxs biology homework in a pathetic attempt to distract him from her own admission that she gets around when Mr. Evans goes away on business. They bond over how bad they both are at science, and Max tells his mom not to worry because "I have a good lab partner. Shes really good in science." Bangs allows herself to become diverted from cooking long enough to motion curiously in a manner I might colloquially refer to as "raising an eyebrow," should said eyebrow not be obscured beneath such an egregiously maintained shelf of hair. "She?" she inquires. Yeah, she. Jeez, Mom, its a lab partner, not a concubine. "Shes a really good lab partner" should ring the same alarm as "shes a really good accountant" or "shes a really good OB/GYN." It just shouldnt automatically equate to all things sexy. Im just sayin. But then I remember that "science class" is practically the same thing as "hotbed of burgeoning sexual passion" as far as this thrill ride of a show is concerned, and, well, I guess I cant fault Bangs for trying.
The Toy House
Still grilling Max on the topic of "Sexiest Lab Partners And The Lab Partners Who Love Them," Bangs loses her concentration and knocks over a full bottle of cooking oil. So much chaos in that kitchen, what with one person cooking, immaculate and copious counter space, quiet music playing in the background, and a lone pan frying two pieces of broccoli on the stove. No wonder she lost track of an entire bottle of the one cooking agent in the entire place. I mean, its a maaaaadhouse in there. But no matter. The convo continues, but just as Max is about to tell Bangs that he and Liz are "just friends" (sniff, sniff -- oh wait, I just remembered that I dont care), the oil meets the gas stove and the whole thing goes up in flames. Max, shocked by this ludicrous display of tacky and non-believable special effects, leaps up and pushes her out of the way. And really, an offstage Production Assistant rubbing together two pieces of cellophane and a guy ambling around on camera wearing an orange and yellow t-shirt reading "House On Fire" would make a more credible blaze than this hack job. While Bangs recoils on the floor, Max works his mad voodoo shit on the big bad flames, extinguishing them in a hurry. But coming to his senses immediately after, he reaches for a pot filled with water and throws it on the charred remains of what was once their incredibly meager dinner. Way to create a, well, er, a smokescreen, Max. First of all, difficult as it was to fight through the visibility-impairing bangs, Bangs watched you do the whole thing. And second, and perhaps more importantly, water doesnt put out a grease fire. I know that, you know that, Smokey the Bear knows that, everyone knows that. Except them. So we fade to credits with Max hugging his tearful but relieved mother, and I realize when I yell, "Hey, Bangs! Youre FIRED!" that cheesy jokes about fire are going to be an endless source of personal satisfaction to me this week. And I also came to another deeper level of understanding during my four week Roswell vacation that I think it is important to share with anyone who has a vested interest in the world in which we live: Get Real is just a horrible, horrible show.
Opening credits: And now presenting the first of many new millennial features: the "Opening Credits Haiku"! It will be a weekly installment in my recaps until I decide that I hate it and just dont want to do it anymore. I give it one week, two tops. Heres the first one: What does evil mean/Do we see it every day?/Shiri Appleby.
The aftermath of said conflagrational event is really quite touching; Max and Bangs look on as the firemen skulk about the charred kitchen. And to think of the almost incalculable number of times I thought, "Man, how much would I like to see a character on this show just spontaneously burst into flames." Hey, Parker, Im talking to you. Now shut up and meet me after school at the Evanss stove. You bring the matches and the big bag of charcoal briquettes and Ill bring the marshmallows and the broad, self-satisfied smile. Max, fearful of arousing further suspicion from anyone within a 300-mile radius who wears a uniform, tries to usher the firefighters out of the place as quickly as possible. But they arent gone a moment when theres a knock at some hidden servants-entrance kind of back door everyone seems so intent on using. And in through the door strides Roswells answer to all things lawful, the great Officer Porno. Bangs invites him in, and he claims his visit is just to make sure "everything is okay." Max again downplays the incident, but Bangs is too intent on building up her little hero by telling Porno that "the flames were coming right at me and they were high . . . he didnt hesitate. He just came right in, pulled me out of the way, poured this pot of water on it, and suddenly everything was okay. It was miraculous, really." Uh-oh. Look, people, I dont want to pour water on a grease fire here and inflame things further, but did anyone else just catch Bangs dropping the "Pot Of Water" bomb right in front of an already suspicious Porno? Because with rumors about Max already spreading like wildfire, theres just no telling how hot a situation like this could become. Remember how I once optimistically stated that fire puns would be interesting, funny, or sustaining? Well, it aint true, and its over. Anyway, Porno gets all fired up (oops, sorry. That was the last one, I promise. Maybe) with Maxs heroism and flashes his pearly yellows repeatedly, sardonically proclaiming that "Max saved the day" and "you put the whole thing out with this one pot of water." Oh, no. Porno sure was coming to look for clues on these sketchy Evans kids, make no mistake about that. And this questionable new development wont do anything but inflame his curiosity. "Inflame." Oops, I guess I did it again. And quite badly that time, I might add.
Upstairs at Chez Evans, Isa "Belle" Evans is looking delightfully fashionable as usual in a salmon-toned turtleneck (and correspondingly unmatching lipstick, also as usual) while suffering Max in his current dour state. She is quietly freaking out as Max recounts the sudden arrival of Valenti, and Isabel seems panicked at Pornos visit, but more than a little consoled by her immunity to the forward-creeping-bangs epidemic that seems to be running rampant in every other member of the house. Max says that he didnt know whether Porno was "acting suspicious" or not. Clearly, Max is some kind of idiot. Isabel tells Max that he is "really upset," and takes my mind off of the crackling and original dialogue long enough to reference the music playing and its emotional relevance to the characters and their surroundings -- but does it have to be Counting Crows? "Max, I know you. You only listen to the Counting Crows when youre really upset." Hey, I know just what she means insofar as Counting Crows are concerned, but with me the cause and the effect are somewhat reversed. Max tells Isabel that hes upset about more than just this, and Isabel tells Max that he was right to break it off with Liz. I agree with this statement wholeheartedly, because it indicates to me that if the relationship is over, Lizs tenure on the show must be closer to its end. I mean, after all, the show is about the aliens, and the aliens have chosen to have nothing more to do with her. And almost nine full minutes into this episode without a thought unprovoking journal monologue beginning, "The thing about aliens is that Im really very beautiful," Im actually beginning to settle in and view this episode objectively. I think I like this show. In fact, I do like this show. I like everything about it. I love it. Well, if I love it so much, why dont I marry it? I want to marry it. In fact, I will marry it. The scene then cuts to the Crashdown, where -- oh, damn it. Call off the wedding, folks.