Same Old Same Old - Review: 02.07.2013

Carey Andrews does it again. Gave us a plonker of an episode. A little bit of this, a little bit of that and not much of anything of substance, which pretty aptly describes EastEnders these days. In other words, the same old same old.

Hardly surprising that the central focus of the episode, and the most watchable portion, were the scenes between Janine and Michael, and even that was frustrating.

Andrews is another writer who needs to fly the coop.

The Queen of the Night, The Prince of Darkness and the Court Jester

Janine makes a welcome return. She's been missed. Oddly enough, an iconic female character the current/recent powers that be haven't managed to fuck up. Charlie Brooks is immensely watchable. She doesn't shout, she doesn't throw coniption fits, she doesn't drink excessively.

But I find that, after a year, this game of cat-and-mouse with Janine and Michael, with the custody of their daughter as the ultimate prize, is a little low. For all of those fangirls creaming knickers on Digital Spy - chief amongst them being the curiously inarticulate and semi-literate being known as Pricksilla - who bleat on about how wonderful and devoted a father Michael was ... bollocks!

The man is a psychopath, a control freak, devoid of emotion and narcissistic. Ironic that this tale should be borne out during Wimbledon week, that EastEnders' two sleekest thoroughbreds clash in competition over their trophy daughter.

Dippy Alice actually understood exactly what was going on - both are playing each other, because both get off sexually playing one upmanship with each other. Janine wants Michael, but she wants him to want her, and she knows exactly which button to push.

And pushing that button, makes him wants to respond in kind. Their quirky romance, from early 2012, was all centred around their shared daddy issues and the way each would play up the other's insecurity to score points - Michael bringing up Frank, as he did tonight; Janine, bigging up Michael's mother complex, which she did a few months ago.

There's a difference now, however. 

In order to draw Michael into her lair, Janine uses her court jester, Billy.

I love the Billy-Janine dynamic, even though she ended up sacking him tonight, he'll be re-instated by the next episode. But something was off-kilter about Michael and Janine tonight - it was too contrived, too quirky rom comish.

Janine used Billy in such a way that she knew he would fuck up and Michael would, literally, come running.

Once again: Michael hasn't been mourning and mooning Scarlett. He's lost his meal ticket, his sympathy card. He's also lost the possibility of moulding a vulnerable personality - his child's - to his own specification, which - of course -meant that he'd raise her to hate her mother. His assessment that Janine wants revenge on him for abandoning her and Scarlett shortly after the baby was born. He even admitted going AWOL for awhile.

But that's not what's irked Janine. Janine remembers the absolute hell he put her through when the baby was brought home, when Janine was alone, isolated, still mourning Pat and suffering from PND. He remorselessly bullied her psychologically and emotionally, and she was an emotional wreck when she left, her self-esteem in shatters and her confidence undermined to an extent that she actually believed herself to be a bad parent. Add to that, the bullying she endured in the run up to her wedding - from Cora and Rose, from Jean, who believed she was behind Michael's scam, and from Michael, himself, who forced her to tear up the pre-nup on her weddingday.

That was a load of shit, because Janine would only have had access to a copy of the pre-nuptual agreement. Her solicitor holds the original, and that hasn't been torn up.

And Michael's narcissism showed itself in his scene with the insipid Alice, when he asserted that Scarlett loved him best. The kid is only one year old. She's lived with her mother, quite happily, for some months now, and has been with her, away from Walford, for weeks. She seems perfectly at ease with Janine, and as for the nanny, as Alice said, she, herself, was just the babysitter, whose role it was - in her words - to take care of Scarlett in order that Michael could do whatever he wanted.

Janine just can't go back to Walford, and Michael just can't go visit his wife in a straightforward way. (Cue the cringing scene with Billy telling Janine that Michael isn't coming, only for Janine to instruct Billy to try a different tack, only for Michael to show up, off-screen in a kitsch dramatic way.

Oh please. These characters are better than this, even though they are not Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant. (I expect Pricksilla will have to look these people up).

That was entertaining social light drama. Tonight's encounter in a London hotel which looked like the sanctuary at Westminster Abbey was nothing of that. Just Michael showing up, as planned, to hurl some invective Janine's way - try to gee up the old Daddy-abandonment issue again, mentioning Frank's name - Janine didn't flinch; then remind her that they were still married, and that he had "rights" - including, in his opinion, rights to half of Janine's fortune.

Sorry, since when did the UK have community property laws? Janine's money is Janine's, and there was either a retcon or a lie on Michael's part, when he said he never spent a penny of Janine's money. He did. He was the one who was seeking to distract her with expensive gifts, whilst keeping her insecure and undermined, so he could rifle his way through her inheritance. And the way he assumed the moral high ground because she left him when he was the one who was clearly driving her away was disgusting.

Still, Janine didn't flinch. As for the pre-nup,all she has to do is produce the intact hard copy her solicitor holds.

It's hard to say who won that round, because Janine wanted to be enticed back to Walford by being told to stay away, which is what Michael did. So he thinks he has the upper hand, and so does she.

I am Team Janine all the way in this, and the fan girls with the wet knickers and bad spelling can go to hell in a handcart. I hope their fondest wish comes true - that they end up with the psychopath of their dreams and that he makes their lives hell.

Cora Tells the Truth.

After peering through the window at a fiftysomething couple fucking, Cora, at first, takes it upon herself to tell Ava that, like her "sisters," she isn't a very good judge of men.

As Ava pointed out, it's a bit late in the day for Cora to assume parental privileges over Ava, played by 

THE. WORST. ACTRESS. EVAH. IN. EASTENDERS.

It's lunchtime, again, Cora's in the pub, and in struts pineapple-headed half-Klingon Magic Negro, fresh from her patrolling of the Square - another day not in school, Ava? Let's cut the shit about her being a teacher, because this is the biggest insult to the teaching profession ever on this show. Anyway, being The Magic Negro on Walford patrol is thirsty work, so Ava the Rava orders a G & T for herself and one for her old white mum.

Ava's response to Cora's unsolicited advice is that Cora gave up any pretence to that right over forty years ago - well, coming up forty-nine to be precise. And - surprise surprise ...

Yep, Cora leaves her with the parting shot that she, Cora, is just the woman who gave birth to her, which was a compromising position for Cora. And that, gobsmackingly, was the truth.

Cora isn't Ava's mother. She just gave birth to her and gave her up. Doesn't matter what reason, she did; and just because she's "mates" with Cora's little Cock, doesn't give her the right to be judgemental about this deeply boring and awfully ridiculous character.

The sooner Ava and Cora leave Walford, the better.

FrankenPoopy.

Does Poopy-La-Dim even register that Tanya is actually selling Booty, and that when the sale is complete, Poopy will have nothing to self-made manage?

It seems as if even Fatboy is thinking that the sudden promotion has rendered Poopy something of the monster variety...

Let's hope this is not Fatboy's and Poopy's wedding day:-

I guess Poopy must be on her way out, especially as the past two episodes have had her show no remorse or compassion about her employer's plight, instead wittering on about her pay rise and giving the viewers an in-depth report in what a total waste of space Lola is, which doesn't sound surprising at all - Lola turning up for an appointment twenty minutes after the customer has arrived. Sounds as though the self-made manager isn't managing all that well, except to hang around Ian Beale's restaurant and collect money for Dot's waifs and strays.

Not funny. Even less funny was Alice sharing her shallowness.

Dot the Good Samaritan.

Dot does a Pat turn in tonight's episode. I wondered how she'd react to Kirsty's lie, and she came up trumps. She was subtle, yet wonderfully compassionate to Kirsty's plight, who apologised for doing what she did. Dot, surprisingly, didn't want to judge, and told her to hold her head up, that people in the Square had seen worse, and would soon find something else about which to gossip (yes, Ronnie's coming back). However, Dot, being Dot, asked for the booties she'd knitted the non-existent baby, because a church mate of Dot's had a daughter who was expecting ... then the kick in the gut ... a little boy.

That, oddly, reminded me of the time a bi-polar Stacey told Dot that her baby wasn't Bradley's so Dot could stop knitting baby clothes. Dot took the knitting she'd done for the child and threw it in the bin. At least she's giving this away.

The Village Idiot Strikes Again.

The play-up of Jean fearing Ian has feelings for her is twofold - it's the preamble to the fire, which happens on Thursday, and it's also the preamble to Jean's actual romance. It was only two years ago when Jean was actively pursuing Ian Beale as a romantic interest. Remember her offhand treatment of Jane, when Jane was cooking for the pub?

Tonight's tension is set against a backdrop of Jean attempting to make the perfect souffle - and I presume that the unlikely souffle customer to which they're all referring is Carl, come for his freebie meal.

Once again, contrived dialogue to make every utterance from Ian Beale's mouth a double entendre. Example:-

Ian: Jean, you're more than a friend. You're my right hand.

Line of the night, however, goes to Shirley, doing what Shirley does best - zingers:-

Shirley: Now let me get this straight. Your horoscope says "The Moon is in Uranus," and you think Ian Beale has a crush on you?

All it takes is a few illicit chocolates with Shirley and some sharp words from Denise to convince Jean, the Slater/Moon Village Idiot, that Ian is turning to Jean for some sexual comfort after dealing all day with Denise the Dominatrix, which leads to the situation in which Ian, kissing her in congratulations for achieving the feat of a perfect souffle, gets smacked by Jean. Which is assault, technically.

This show is like the Number 10 bus of RomComs. You tune in, expecting to see nothing of this tripe, and you get two for the price of nothing, with a fire thrown in on Thursday.

Poor fare,  made barely watchable by Janine and Michael.