Harper's Island: Sigh
I don't have a lot of time tonight for a real entry. I can say that this show never tires of becoming stupider, or more boring, and that, regardless, I have no intention of giving it up just yet.
So I'll just make a few observations:
Big band music at the rehearsal dinner? What the hell year is this?
Depressed girl continued her record of un-depressed clothing tonight, wearing a string bikini in the first scene. But what am I saying? The bikini was black. Depression-approved. She's also been hitting the abdominizer, from the looks of it.
The "the previous serial killer has come back from the dead and is our current serial killer!" thing? We all know that's a red herring, show, so please dispatch of this as quickly as you can. People watching these mystery shows are not novices, OK? We've read everything Agatha Christie has to offer. Better hope that your ending is half as clever as the ending she orchestrated for And Then There Were None (from which you have borrowed, liberally).
Two more observations, under spoiler alert.
How is it possible that word could spread so quickly among the wedding attendees about the stupid prank the British guy played on the Abercrombie and Fitch-looking dillweed--everyone's talking about it--but no one has yet noticed that the wedding is down a cousin, a drunkle, a bridesmaid, and a minister? (For those of you keeping track, the fifth death was an uninvited townie.)
In "glad he's gone!" news, the mysteriously threatening and uninvited ex-boyfriend was killed tonight on his speedboat by a jerry-rigged skeet shooting rifle. BECAUSE HOW ELSE WOULD YOU DO IT?
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