Well, all good things must come to an end, and in the end for Jesse O'Mahoney, it's a return to mediocrity. This was easily the worst episode of the week. EastEnders is broken. It's been bleeding viewers since the show jumped the shark ten years ago, bringing Zombie Den back from the grave. Diedrich Santer staunched the flow, but that was only papering over the cracks. Bryan Kirkwood ripped the soul of the programme apart, instilling his vision, instead of retaining its brand. Three iconic female characters were made totally unrecogniseable. Whatever he's done to EastEnders, it's going to take time to repair. The Beales are being rebuilt, then the Mitchells need repairing. Janine, easily the most positive female character in the soap at the moment, and Bryan Kirkwood's crowning achievement, must move centre stage. More importantly, Newman should smack out of hand any pandering to the brat pack of shallow, irrelevant viewers who think this is a teen soap and that characters like Sharon don't matter. She should simply disregard any of those Kat-wannabe-fanbois, begging for Kat and Alfie to be separated. Alfie Moon was created for Kat as much as the Mitchells were created for Sharon. And Sid Owen must be prised from his Hollywood hideaway and convinced to return. It's what Patsy Palmer wants, and it should happen. And the warts from the writers' room must be surgically removed. That includes the man who wrote the last two episodes. I gave him a pass last night. Tonight, he failed. Jacqueline Jossa, THE. WORST. ACTRESS. EVER. ON. EASTENDERS
is currently doing the PR rounds, outlining and teasing The Brannings, post-Tanya. The Brannings, she says, will take a different direction. And well they should ... straight out of Walford. And their satellites. Actually, I take it back about Jossa being the worst actress ever in EastEnders. She's officially the second worst. Tonight, I made a new discovery .. THE. WORST. ACTRESS. EVER. EVER. IN. EASTENDERS
Now all they have to worry about is consistency in writing. Ever Evolving Daddy Issues. Seriously, who'd want Michael Moon for a father?
There's a contingent of fangirls - or rather, silly-ass women - on Digital Spy, who regularly cream their knickers at the sight and sound of Michael Moon. One even craves a sexual encounter with someone of his ilk - in other words, a psychopath. I've heard of women who like being treated badly by men, but, honestly ... a psychopath? Do these silly girls even know what a psychopath is? If there were any lingering doubts about how "nice" Michael Moon is, that was dispelled last night and further dispelled tonight. And I hope it's finally sunken in with Alfie that this man is exactly how Alfie described him - a scumbag. His revelation to Tommy that he was his biological father was totally scurrilous. As Alfie said, he allowed Alfie to step up to the plate and wouldn't even look at the child. This isn't about substituting Tommy for Scarlett, as Kat with her convoluted sense of ill-logic thought. Michael was adamant on more than one occasion tonight that he wanted nothing to do with the child - whom he still refers to as "the child" or "the boy." He just told him that snippet of information simply because he had the opportunity and he could. And he did it because Alfie had something that he didn't - a child, or rather, his child, as he drove the point home to him about Alfie not being able to understand someone having two children who were kept from him. A couple of words about that - first of all, Tommy wasn't "kept from" Michael. Both Alfie and Kat told him he could have access to him as much as he wanted. Michael walked away. Secondly, if he wanted to talk to a father whose children were being "kept from" him, he should try Phil Mitchell, who would have told him to grow up and grow a pair. Michael is all too happy to fob responsibilities off onto someone else - the heavy duty work of running the boxing club to Jack, raising Tommy to Alfie, the day-to-day care of Alice to Roxy and/or Alice. He doesn't care. He doesn't give a rat's arse. What you saw tonight was the real Michael. This isn't poor-Michael-the-masochist, realising what a bad person he was and seeking punishment and allowing Alfie retribution. This was the psychopath grinding his heel on the emotions of people he disdains. I wanted Alfie to throw that tit-toxic slattern of a wife out of the pub as well, now that his hand has been forced into turning his back on Tommy, because Kat - and I'm sorry, I have to say this - enabled this farce, giving Michael shelter, bigging up their "friendship" and encouraging him in his pursuit of Janine. Michael isn't the victim. He was proposing to scam Janine by bullying Alice into spying on her with a view to taking Scarlett from her. When Alice confessed what was going on to Janine, she reacted rightfully and left with the child. Alice nailed Michael's dilemma right on the head the night he popped her cherry - he couldn't control everything. Now he's trying to manipulate the usual suspects into a show of sympathy for his poor, pathetic plight. These are the selfsame people he's screwed over before - Alfie, his cousin, by sleeping with and impregnating Alfie's wife; Kat, by doing just that and by scamming Jean; Roxy, but trying to turn her into Ronnie-lite and by playing evil mindgames with Ronnie; Jack, for the latter. And all of these people still treat him like a close bosom friend. This man sexually manipulated Jack Branning's naive niece, a girl whose father is dead and for whom Jack should be feeling paternally proprietorial, and yet Jack allows him to stay in his flat! At least now, Alfie knows his cousin's true colours. He is a scumbag. No less. And he should be treated thus, forthwith. The scenes between Alfie and Tommy were heart-rending, with Shane Richie showing a real chemistry with the chatty little kid who plays Tommy. Even though Tommy repeated the words "Michael" and "daddy," I don't think a two-year old - DS commentators, Tommy isn't three until late December - would comprehend this relationship. With Alfie relinquishing parental authority of Tommy now, this will, however, confuse the child even more, because he's bonded with Tommy. This is what Alfie was on about earlier in the year regarding a visitation order, which Kat thought unnecessary; but Kat is not the fount of all common sense wisdom TPTB want us to think that she is. I hope Roxy gets pregnant by Alfie. That would set the cat amongst the pigeons with Titface. Or better yet, I hope Tommy's proven to be Alfie's biological son. Otherwise, we've just witnessed the evolution of yet another daddy issue. Stranger in a Strange Land.
Well, actually there are two at the moment, in Walford - Sam the Sham and Carl-with-a-C, but I'm going to talk about the interesting one. There's a pissy little soul on Walford Web - two actually - both of whom reckon they're the natural successor to the late Roger Ebert as a drama critic. That would be Jark the Jerk and sweet *Betty*, two lads who've never been parents, yet know more about parenting than parents, who've never taught yet know how teachers should speak and behave, and who haven't yet had any kind of job in the professional dramatic world, yet know more about it than anyone. And neither one is a genius, nor are they twenty-five yet. Both confidently declaim that any good actor can work with a shit script and make it shine. Well, no, they can't. No one can make a silk purse from a sow's ear - *Betty* should know that (oink oink). But what a good actor can do is take a shit script and run with the tour de force element of the writing. If a writer's given someone a kitsch script, he plays up the kitsch, he overstates, he states the bleeding obvious; and a lesser actor will play along with the ruse. This is what we saw with Daniel Coonan again tonight. I understood perfectly what Coonan meant when he described Carl White as a Shakespearian villain. Think what you will of Iago and Shylock, but they were imminently watchable, although I doubt both the Walford Web bullybois would be familiar with either of these characters. White would know what he's talking about, however, since he's ex-RSC. Tell you what, I'll bet Carl is one nasty piece of work, and I didn't need Kirsty to tell me how bad he was. And tell you something else, I'll bet he could make Michael Moon look like a pussy. Carl's a villain, the likes of which EastEnders has never seen - no smooth operator like Steve Owen, no gentleman gangster like Jonnie Allen. Kirsty was engaged to him, and her relationship, prior to Max, with this man has been described as "abusive." Carl is the sort of person, for whom butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, sweet as sugar candy - that's how kumquats like Bianca the Retard and Alice easily open up to him, more than they should. Even Holy Mother Slutter thought him "fit" at first, and he achieved even more through some sweet-talking to Bianca tonight, which proved how little Bianca knew about her Branning relations and how much she knows about her Beale ones. Buy Bianca a coffee and she'll give up anything. She's an unattractive single mother with unattractive, hoydenish children, so any male attention is a bonus for her. When she asked Carl why he lied about Alice, Carl lied further: he just had to meet Alice because Derek talked about her all the time. That wasn't retcon, folks, that was Carl lying outright. We all know Derek wasn't aware of Alice's existence until Alice made herself known to him. But Bianca wasn't aware of that. Oh, and poor pitiful Carl lies because that's what you do when you come out of prison, because the world treats you like a scumbag. And that's something with which Bianca would identify, without giving too much away, the way she did about Uncle Ian, having been homeless this time last year, inadvertantly landing Ian in it by raising Carl's hackles. She was even defending his behaviour to the suspicious Kat and Kirsty, after Kirsty, his ex- warned both women that he was someone they really truly didn't want to get to know. As for Ian, it was nice to see Ian revert to weaselly coward mode, trying to push Jean to the forefront to cover for him that evening. And although the dialogue was arch and pretty cheesy ("I want your blood"), it was quite entertaining watching Carl elicit the eventual truth from Ian - first that Derek was dead (something that Carl already knew), then finally, that Ian actually did use the ten grand stowed away in Derek's "box of tricks", a confession which gave Carl some leverage. Line of the night:- Carl: There. You told the truth. We can do business. And Carl promptly goes the extortion route of demanding a payment of £500 per week from Ian. That's obviously just for starters. Carl's got an income now, and he'll most likely be commandeering Scarlett's for some sort of crooks' convention or whatever brouhaha he wants to cook up - with Ian doing the catering, of course. One other interesting interplay tonight was Carl eventually finding the reason for his arrival in Walford - Kirsty, who's still maintaining the lie to him that she was pregnant. There was a line uttered in passing by Carl to Kirsty - that he's been clean for five years. So Carl is an addict? Obviously not the alcohol variety. I'm thinking more along the lines of cocaine. This is going to be interesting, and Dan Coonan is a good actor breathing life into an interesting character - but, more's the pity, one with a short shelf life. Enjoy him while he lasts. Ein Zwei Drei Fier, Lift Your Stein and Drink Your Beer ...
Salamander, which means Lauren is as drunk as a fish. Of course, the well-intentioned date catch-up with Peter goes awry - first because Lucy lies to Peter, telling him Lauren's just a binge drinker, then because Lucy sparks a drinkfest because - as much as Lauren will tell Tanya and Max next week that it's their behaviour which makes her drink, the impression I got tonight was that she was guzzling only because she couldn't bear to see her cousin with whom she regularly fucks, going out with Bag o'Bones Beale. I've decided tonight that Lucy's eyes - or rather, her overdone eye make-up annoys me. Who the hell puts on false eyelashes to work in a cafe or chippie every day, and who also has the time to apply meticulously that Liz Taylor sloe-eyed mascara, tipping up at the end. Hetti Bywater is playing the daughter of a lightweight businessman from East London. This is not the catwalk at the London Fashion Show. Working over steaming cookers all day would only melt so much mascara and make the eyelashes become detached. Who wants to reach down in a bag of chips and pick out someone's false eyelashes. Yuck. In fact, Lauren could have used Lucy's eye make-up, considering she looked like Morticia Addams in a mini-skirt. Poor Peter Beale. I fear the worst from him. And since when did Peter start calling Tanya and Max by their Christian names? Jossa's acting is bearable, until she goes into drunken mode, and then her limits are all too painfully apparent. It's a blessing that they're moving her away from alcohol; now the next thing they want to do is stop her from being aware that the camera is on her. She's all too aware and all too in love with herself. Play to the audience, damn it, not to the mirror. And lay off the collagen. These scenes are when the show began to stink, nonetheless because David Witts's unintelligible presence had to be endured, with subtitles. How long before Carl, the well-spoken nemesis of Derek, makes his presence known to Joey? Maybe he could give him elocution lessons. Axe, Please ... Sam, Ava and Kim. Those scenes were totally and utterly embarrassing. Sam surreptitiously flirting with a preening Ava in the cafe ... Ava preening. Gosh, she reminded me of this ...
Yes, one night with Sam the Sham has reduced The Magic Negro to the preening, shambling Prissy from Gone With the Wind. This was a poor attempt at a comic love non-triangle, with Kim obviously on the pull for Sam, and Sam and Ava sneaking around sophomorically to have sex in Sam's room. OMIGOD! What if Jay is upstairs? This is supposedly a 49 year-old Deputy Head teacher, an educated woman? And where does Sam get his money? He hardly seems to be doing any building work, except putting in a few lights here and there. And I see Carl has joined the affluent band of waifs and strays who've settled into the sixty-quid-a-night B and B. He has yet to meet Shirley. Ava and her non-story are non-starters. She's a luxury character inserted into the frame of things, along with her irrelevant son and equally irrelevant ex at the whim of the current producer. Their screentime means less screentime for more important characters. They are an epic fail. Lorraine Newman should realise this. No one gives a rat's arse, and Clare Perkins is a joke. As is her character. Mediocrity has returned.
Wow! Two big announcements of new signings in one week on EastEnders. First we had the 21st Century version of the 1990s Greek Janine with Greek Janine/Cindy and now, we herald the arrival of Mr Kym Marsh II. Jamie Lomas joins the EastEnders' cast. The soap pundits dubbed his signing "Soapwars" - his wife is in Corrie, his sister is in Emmerdale and he hails from Hollyoaks. But there's a bit of deja vu with this one. Slightly more than a decade ago, Mr Kym Marsh I, AKA Jack Ryder, was a significant part of EastEnders, playing the iconic manchild Jamie Mitchell - the boy girls wanted to snog and women wanted to mother. During this period, Jamie got to snog both Sonia as well as Zoe Slater, and whilst Kym didn't mind Jack kissing ugly Sonia, she wasn't too pleased that Jack had to spend scenes hanging off Michelle Ryan's luscious lips, so she pitched a hissy fit, convinced Jack to take up an offer of work in the States that wasn't even a concrete offer, and the rest is history. The only difference between now and then is that Kym, herself, is riding high on Corrie and actually has a higher profile than Mr Marsh Mach II - but that could easily change. On the other hand, I'm kind of encouraged by this casting. I don't watch Hollyoaks, so I'm not familiar with Lomas's work or the sort of character he played, so I'll be watching him with a fresh pair of eyes. Like Gary Lucy, he comes by way of 'Oaks and Sky's Dream Team. He;s also the right age demographic (25-50) that's sadly lacking on the show at the moment, and his character arc, although a bit repetitive (Albert Square is home to three sex abuse victims, three alcoholics and a gaggle of people with Daddy issues), sounds interesting. Suffice it to say that I'm looking on this casting a lot more positively than the addition of yet another teen.
Surprise of the day! Jesse O'Mahoney, also ex-Hollyoaks, wrote a passable episode. Is somebody standing over the Luddites with a rubber tube, beating their arses? The Village Idiot and Clueless: Never Talk to Strangers. Here's another surprise! Ian Beale acknowledged his blood relationship with Bianca tonight. He called her his niece. In fact, it was a most emphatic moment of dialogue, but more of that later. The King is dead, long live the Queen! Billy Mitchell, runt of the Mitchell litter and heretofore reigning Village Idiot in Walford (especially after the death of Heather, who gave him a run for his money), no more has any claim to that title. Bianca is now officially the Village Idiot of Walford. Billy could only claim to be the Mitchell's idiiot. Bianca belongs to the Brannings, the Butchers and the Beales. I remember Bianca in the 1990s - she managed and ran a clothing stall on her own, when she was barely out of her teens. She even managed to go to fashion college, but this Bianca is borderline retarded. Not only does she not know how to discipline, instruct or even maintain her children, she neither feeds nor provides for them properly. The heavy-duty parenting was always done by a combination of Pat, Ricky and Carol. Bianca was always an overgrown child. With no common sense. Who plucks a number scribbled on a shred of newsprint from someone's strongbox and assumes it's a mobile number for a person who's written a letter contained in a separate envelope? Bianca. Who engages in a lengthy conversation with a stranger on the other end of that mobile number, giving him enough information to find her before realising what a putz she is? Bianca. Bianca's stunted intelligence seems, also, to have extended to Mowgan Le Fat. Who, at the age of eight, still writes and scribbles nonsense on the walls inside your home? Mowgan. And who, at the age of eight, stuffs small toys down the sink, blocks it and then doesn't think to turn the faucet off? Mowgan. And - back in AdultLand - who calls a plumber and assumes that the first stranger to appear at her door is that selfsame plumber she called, without asking for a form if identification? Biancaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Then, after it's been established that the mystery man isn't the plumber, but someone who mysteriously knows Derek Branning, who sits down with said stranger, without knowing the whys or wherefores of his history with Derek, and tells him a heap of personal information - as in the names of Derek's children and where they lived? Bianca. She didn't even realise this man - Carl-with-a-C, as we now know - was lying, and if she'd had half the brain and fortitude, she'd have realised his story didn't match up with Derek's immediate past. Derek had spent the past fourteen years in prison, and didn't even recognise Alice, herself, when he arrived in Walford; so Carl, remarking "It'll be nice to see Alice again," should have raised Bianca's hackles. Or doesn't she know her family history?
You see, that's the thing about extended and large families. You always know the family fables. Derek the professional convict, would have been as familiar a story to her as how Max abandoned Bradley for Tanya or as Sharongate would have been to the Mitchells (although Roxy seems curiously unaware of this foible regarding Sharon's and Phil's history). Moving onto Alice, she's just as stupid, but her stupidity is the naive sort. Having just had her grief regarding her father's death reinvigorated, she's more than happy to invite the stranger on her doorstep who purports to be her dad's friend from prison and who's only just heard of his demise - irregardless of the fact that this man could be anyone - an axe murderer or even a rapist. Bianca is retarded, and Alice is just sad, which is rather sweet and pathetic at the same time, especially as she hands Carl-with-a-C even more information with which to play - showing him the room were Derek slept and even letting him rifle through the tin box of Derek paraphernalia, informing him that she came by the box by way of Auntie Carol, who got it from "Ian." Now that gives Carl-with-a-C a starting point, as it's obvious there's something in that box which he wants. Gee, I wonder what that could be? But now, it's the Matron Saint of Sluts, who also has the remit of looking after retards and naive young girls as well, to set matters straight. Bringing Bianca and Alice face-to-face, she exposes Carl-with-a-C as a liar, which means 'e's a dodgy bloke, innit? It seems that there's nothing Kat can't do, except own up to the responsibility of having destroyed her own marriage. The Man, Himself: Carl-with-a-C. I call him Carl-with-a-C to distinguish him from Corrie's man of the moment, Karl Munro. Time was, EastEnders could have created, sustained and handled a character such as Karl Munro - a bad boy forced to be even badder by circumstances and his own precipitous actions,. someone who's basically capable of good actions and even of feeling remorse for his misdeeds, but who's too weak to confess to his crimes, so he commits further crimes to cover the previous ones. At one and the same time, he's a bad man, a villain, but one capable of sustaining the viewers' sympathies. I was impressed with Daniel Coonan tonight. I felt he got off to a strong start. He has a long and impressive portfolio, is a graduate of LAMDA (the second such cast member) and comes to the show by way of no less than the Royal Shakespeare Company. The last time the show had a character with such credentials, that was Tricky Dicky the market inspector. Apart from being the most erudite and articulate villain ever to appear on the programme, Coonan looked to be enjoying what he was doing and, indeed, treated many of his lines and interactions as a tour de force. Here is an experienced actor proving that you don't necessarily have to have a gorr-blimey Cockney accent to be an EastEnd villain - he sounded educated and well-spoken, and the soliloquy extolling the delights of eating in Ian Beale's establishment was a veritable PR man's dream. Seriously, Ian should make amends with this guy and get him to write his PR copyright. One wonders how he got connected with such a chavvy little guttersnipe like Kirsty. He's a smoother, if his scene with Max is anything to go by, immediately recognising him (probably via his brother's description) and smoothly explaining that he was looking for a car, as he understood he was in the motor trade. But the scene with Ian was a classic, especially since the entire gist of the episode, as pertaining to Ian, had been developed to show that Ian has reverted to the snarky, snobby, condescending Ian of old. Just put him in a tie and in charge of some posh hostelry, and you've got him talking about "them and us," the "them" being the hoi-polloi and the "us" being the Beales, always a cut above the rest of Walford, seeking to inculcate this sense of command and control into his son. It was enlightening to see that Peter was having none of this nonsense. Yet Carl-with-a-C rattled Ian's confidence from the beginning, with a question about Derek, even venturing, further along in what had become a one-man tour de force, to reveal some information about himself - that he and Derek met in prison, that Derek had promised to look after something that belonged to Carl-with-a-C, that Derek had promised him a slap-up meal upon his release ... and to all of this, Ian had shown no curiosity - most probably because whilst Carl was talking, Ian was shitting his pants, knowing what the object Derek had promised to guard was. In all of this to-ing and fro-int, Carl at least managed to get Ian to admit his relationship to Bianca - she was "kind of family, my niece." Even moreso, Carl exposed Ian's innate shallowness by remarking at Ian's seeming lack of concern as to why his niece would be talking with someone like Carl. Carl's coming back for his dinner, with some bubbly in the fridge, but one is left with a feeling that Ian will be eating crow. I guess this means that Carl-with-a-C is actually an investor, to the tune of ten grand, in Ian's restaurant. This might be Ian's kismet, but although Carl might be a stranger, this sure ain't paradise ...
Michael Wants His Widdle Toy. Because that's what this quest for Scarlett is all about. For all the Luddite ladies on Digital Spy who find him so fascinating, I wonder how they'd like being involved with a bona fide psychopath. It's not as romantic as it seems. Scarlett was Michael's tool. Here's a constant about Michael - he never owns up to any sort of responsibility, and if he can get someone else to assume that responsibility, that makes life easier for him, and it makes the person assuming the responsibility a mug, worthy of Michael's disdain. Michael talks Jack into buying and renovating the boxing club, using all of Jack's money and with Jack doing most of the managerial hard graft. Michael, in turn, does nothing; however, he does get subbed by Jack. Janine leaves Michael with their child, and after spending weeks screaming at the kid and turning the volume up on the television to drown her cries, he fanagles Roxy into moving in to provide free child care. Kat hits him for child support regarding Tommy, a child he's never acknowledged, in fact a child he's been happy for his cousin to raise, bond with and parent, calling him his son, and Michael microwaves her a meal and skirts the issue of paying to support the kid. Roxy and then Alice cared for Scarlett, a feat which amounted to ferrying her from one activity to another daily, before returning her, exhausted and sleeping, to him at night, so he could swan around daily, playing the big man. Care for Scarlett? He couldn't even bring himself to call her by her given name until Janine showed up. Until then, he referred to her as "the child." Now "the mother" of "the child" has taken the child, and he wants his toy back. He's mindful of the fact that a single man with a child is always a sympathetic figure, and there'd be a queue of women waiting -and even willing to forget previous despicable behaviour on his part (Kat, Roxy, Jean) - just to get one back on evil Janine. Interesting to note one thing tonight, Michaelapologists on Digital Spy forum ... the nurse at the hospital remembered Janine. Even though Michael recognised the nurse as Annabelle, the nurse didn't remember him at all; however she did remember Janine. It was Janine who sat 24/7 by Scarlett's side as she fought for life. It was Michael who repeatedly missed important appointments and meetings with the consultant. It was Michael who was caught trying to run away by Whitney and who was told to get his ass back to the hospital and support his wife by Ricky. That proves what a good father Michael Moon wasn't. And as Michael's specialty is punching down and manipulating vulnerable women, who is any more vulnerable than an innocent child? What a time this asshole would have poisoning her mind. And as for his trick with Tommy, that was despicable and cruel, based only on the fact that he saw Alfie with Tommy and realised Alfie had something, an object, which he relinquished. The only saving grace of this was that, in telling Tommy that he was his real father, the child is only two and just now beginning to talk. He'd have no conception of the meaning behind Michael's words. It would have hit home stronger had Tommy been the age of Oscar or Denny or Mowgan Le Fat. That would have prompted questions which would have needed answering. Tommy wouldn't have made the association and would still quite happily have thought of Alfie as "Daddy." He should. Alfie has done more for him in his two years of life than Michael could ever hoped to have done. This was simply a mean, malicious act. I hope Kat took note and pondered the mendacity of that. I also hope she zips those toxic tits up. They're disgusting on show like that.
That's Michael, all right ... such a dirty old man. Same Shit Different Day. Now for a little variation, Ava sports a laptop bag on her endless sprint around the Square. We're supposed to believe this is for work, as she runs into Sam the Sham who's popped into the cafe for a tea and a bacon sarnie. It's probably chocked full of bacon sarnies to sustain Ava the Rava in her daily Magic Negro patrol. This circular storyline is so boring, and the involvement of the younger tranche of entitled teens, makes it even more pukeworthy. Ava's angry because Sam's treating this as any normal morning and doesn't morph into Curly from Oklahoma! warbling "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" after a night of mind-blowing sex with a Klingon ...
Oh, wait ... he does flatter her ego by telling her just how earth-shattering their sexual encounter was, before inviting her to share his tea and bacon sarnie ... "Ooohh," titters Aunt Esther The Magic Negro, "just like a date." Except this duo of overgrown and oversexed middle-aged adolescents are hiding their tryst from their judgemental COCK of a son, who's on a control trip. Just imagine, her comes Sam, astraddle Ava, meandering through the corn ... oops, sorry, that's a horse ...
And all because he woke up to this ...
Now for the really shitty part of the show: Abi, Dex-TAAAAAAAAAAAA (now known as "Dex"), Lola and Jay. Really, the scene in the Arches where Jay and Dex-TAAAAAAAAAAAA are arguing over whether or not to take Sam the Sham's advance on his car, was butt-clinchingly embarrassing. Jay is beyond redemption now. To think of the powerful performances Jamie Borthwick put in last year in the wake of Heather's death and the aftermath, it's humiliating to see how they've effectively emasculated his character, making him the straightman to Mr Bojangles and the money tree to Abi's entitlement. Even now, tonight, there's no thanks coming from either Abi or Lola for this holiday Jay's good sense and graft have accomplished. I give credit entirely to Jay, because had Dex-TAAAAAAAAA had his high-handed way, the work would have been all for nought, except for his mindless pride. And yet, all they could do was giggle and witter about bikini shopping. (Quite honestly, the thought of Abi the Doughfaced Girl with her thunder thighs, in a bikini is quite revolting). But that's how shallow they are. And that's how stupid this lot have become. There's no purpose to Dexter, just another character with daddy issues taking up where Joey left off. Jay has lost his entire character arc, which makes me think it's time for him to leave the show. In fact, three of that quartet could get lost in the New Forest and not be missed, and really, the only tenuous thread holding Lola to the show is the fact that she's the mother of a legacy character, Lexi, the granddaughter of Phil Mitchell. In what was generally a watchable episode, the endlessly circular nothing that is Ava and Sam, practicing their over-acting, and the Infamously Fatuous Four, stank up the place.
Jay and Abi in the 1930s. Foreshadowing the Shadows ... The continuing story of Lauren. She seems to be getting rather ill. Kirsty notices. Peter notices. When Peter notices, Lauren shouts at him. Watch this space ... one week to go. Update Already: I'm having a whale of a time laughing at the confused Luddites on DS and Walford Web, furiously scratching their heads about Carl's soliloquy. WalfordE20, who fancies himself an expert, even admits to not understanding Carl's well-spoken delivery. And who's to assume Carl is a working-class villain? We don't know his backstory. Villainy isn't restricted to the working classes, you know. I'm loving the fact that we have a well-spoken character on the wrong side of the law here. Who remembers Wilmot-Brown? The people who are having trouble with Carl seriously need to bone up on their vocabulary and learn to spell properly. It does pay to increase your word power.
Ever notice how various characters in EastEnders seem to have the same problems? Daddy Issues - Janine Butcher, Michael Moon, Dex-TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and Joey Branning Victims of Sexual Abuse - Kat, Whitney and Ronnie Now, alcoholism is the latest venture:- Phil Mitchell, Lauren Branning and now Jake Stone. There used to be another recovering alcoholic on the show who indulged in a wee bit of child abuse, himself, since he fucked about with Bianca (off-screen) when she was only fifteen: Dan Sullivan. I know nothing about Jamie Lomas, except that he used to be in HollyOaks, is the brother of Emmerdale's Charlie Webb and the husband of Corrie's Kym MarshRyderMarsh Lomas and that he's easy on the eye. I've never seen him act, so I can't say whether he'll be good in this role or not. If TPTB have a clearly defined character arc and backstory, he's definitely the right age demographic which is currently sadly lacking in the show. He may very well succeed and I hope he does; I'm actually more optimistic about this addition to the show than I am about Greek Janine/Cindy. However, on first look and on reading his character outline, I got a curious feeling of deja-vu. Jake Stone ...
In the spirit of EastEnders' Continental cooperation shown in tonight's episode, let me just say this ... Plus ca change, plus ca reste la meme.
The good news is that today is Sir Paul McCartney's birthday. Potentially, the bad news is that there's another teenager rampant about to burst onto Albert Square - the daughter of Cindy Beale is being introduced as a fully-fledged character. Yes, another teen. I know, she's a half-sibling to Peter and Lucy, but she's only fourteen at the moment, and I'm wanting to know how it's going to be arranged that she live full-time with Ian Beale and his family. Actually, my first thought, when I saw the picture of the actress who plays the kid was Greek Janine. Why? Here's why ...
Here is Greek Janine, before she became Charlie Brooks.
And here is Greek Janine/Cindy. Granted, Greek Janine/Cindy's father is Italo-English businessman Nick Holland, which presents us, not only with another stroppy teen running wild, but also a different sort of daddy dilemma and the potential promise of either Greek Janine/Cindy going to look for Big Daddy Nick or him accidentally on purpose showing up in Walford. But Ian Beale is nothing to this kid. He's neither invested in her upbringing, and he's only seen her twice in his life. Besides, she's a reminder of the darkest period of his marriage to Cindy - the time she tried to kill him and abscond to the Continent with his children. Is Granny Bev or Dippy Auntie Gina going to hand over guardianship of this kid legally to Ian Beale, or will it be done with no legal hoohah at all a la Steven Beale in 2002 or Shenice in 2011? Probably the latter. EastEnders don't do research. Still, this is another one to land prepubescent lads' bums on seats and their hands down their trousers. This seems to be their current target audience. And now, for a review of tonight's episode, and since I'm in a name-and-shame mood, it's an episode written by ... THE. WORST. WRITER. EVER. ON. EASTENDERS...
Hollyoaks' reject and Kirkwood leftover, Perrie Balthazar ... AXE, PLEASE!!!!!!!!
Mister Pleasant.
Michael is acting like just exactly what he is - a big, overgrown spoiled baby. He's not catatonic at all. He's just sulking. Why? Because he knows that this will get him 100 per cent attention from two people who should, by rights, be knocking him for six for what he'd done to Alice. Instead, Alice's Uncle Jack, who should be knocking the shit out of Michael for mucking about with his dead brother's daughter, is fetching and carrying, mollycoddling and cooing him. Katshit, who's taken it upon herself to act as Alice's Slutty Godmother, should be pissed off mightily at someone who did to MyAlice what Uncle Harry did to her. Instead, she's fixing him breakfast and calling The Magic Alfie to help cheer widdle Michael up. And so Magic Alfie, who really should be kicking the daylights out of Michael for porking and impregnating his wife, instead, tries his damnedest to amuse him and at least succeeds in getting the recalcitrant manchild to talk. So, as you do with a little kid, you watch DVDs and eat popcorn. Michael the psychopath. Michael the divo. Michael the drama queen. He suddenly remembers that Friday is his daughter's first birthday (and his wedding anniversary). Of course, Katshit is quick to pin the blame on Janine, whilst Alfie plays down the fact that the first birthday is usually a day of getting baby his/her first booster injection, which makes Michael become Michael-on-a-Mission. He has to see MyAlice, because she would know if there'd been any appointment made. Meanwhile, back at Slater Hotel, Joey is trying to get through to MyAlice, who doesn't understand him. Ne'mind, we don't either. You know something? Parents always want what's better than they had for their children. Ian Beale's kids all are well-spoken.. Bradley Branning, as well as his sisters all speak better than Max or Tanya. Alice, herself, raised by her mother (as was Joey). is reasonably well-spoken. Since Joey hadn't been around his father since he was a lad of seven, there's no reason why David Witts couldn't have used his normal, proper well-spoken speaking voice. It's a pity because, although Witts seems a nice guy, he's an atrocious actor, hired more for looks than anything else. He really should be given the push, but I have a feeling that we won't see the end of Joey until a new EP is in place. More's the pity. MyAlice, however, faces her kleptomaniac demons tonight, and it looks as though she aims to go the length and breadth of the market returning items which she stole, which will only serve to get her in more trouble. In the end, however, she seeks out the wisdom of Tiffany ... (Cue puking sound effect) ...
... in order to return Nana Pat's enchanted earrings. How about that? Eighteen months after her death, Pat gets her first mention, regarding a pithy pair of earrings. More important, when she finds the courage to tell Michael of Scarlett's hospital appointment and he automatically went into charm mode to tell her what a good person she is, she made him look small by telling him, succinctly, that she wasn't. A Small French Fart.
Hohh-hee-hohh-hee-hohh-he-hohh ... Abi La Dough-Faced Fille is volunteered by her grandmere to show ze sexy young phony French vicaire ze sights of Walford. Listen very carefully, for she will say zis only once ... Oh shit, that was an appalling scene of love and warmth, how the phony Frenchman gains confidence from Abi for his English speech and how he offers her some subtle and prayerful advice - Abi should be patient and wait for Lauren to talk, So much for Max and Tanya wanting to keep Lauren's problem a secret amongst themselves. Abi's told Grandma Dot, who ain't one to gossip but ... (giggle giggle) ... and the vicar even helps Abi to study. Why am I reminded of Sonia and the phony Italian student? The Never-Ending Story ...
Shit, I just realised how much Limahl looks like one of my godsons, minus the manky hair, of course. Of course ... we're back in BranningLand, and surprisingly, this was the best segment of tonight's episode. In fact, I'll be generous, and give Jossa credit where credit is due, but then, whenever any plank is pitted against Jake Wood and Lindsey Coulson, two of the strongest actors in the show, they always rise to the occasion. Max has always been great in those paternal one-on-one intimate father-child moments - with Bradley and Abi and now with Lauren. The scene where he was keeping her busy tidying the flat with him was poignant, especially Jake Wood's unassuming modest look of caring, which, unfortunately, resembles more than a bit the character he voices in the US, the GEICO Gecko ..
He finally understands how serious Lauren's problem is - although many viewers and I still don't comprehend why, now, it's suddenly dawned on the family that she has a problem. They've been cognizant of the fact that she goes bonkers when she drinks, and she's been caught drunk enough times before for this to concern them. The gist is that Lauren hasn't hit rock bottom yet, which is why she refuses to go to the adolescent support group with Max. She has to want to go, herself. She has to seek help, others can't seek it for her. Particularly good was the scene where Carol found her in the pub, staring at the empty booze glasses, too skint to afford just one drink. Carol was probably the best and most effective person to speak with her, asking her why she drank and why she got drunk. She doesn't know. She can't. It's just that it's something she needs to do because her body has developed and addiction to the stuff. She needs it to get through the day. The admission she made at the end of that episode, was powerful and deserving of the duff-duff (instead of the crock of shit we got instead): Lauren can't stop drinking. She doesn't want to do so, but even if she did, she couldn't. She's hooked. Klingons on the Starboard Bow. Again. (Yawn). Yet another day when Ava the Rava doesn't teach. Not only are ex- and current teachers like myself noticing what a joke this teaching thing is with her, but the rest of the viewing audience views her as a joke as well. In fact, the whole contrived and retconned set-up of The Magic Negro, Sam the Sham and Dex-TAAAAAA so absurd, they are more than boring. They are dire. In short, they all stink. Mightily. In the first place, not only does Ava the Rava never teach, she never eats at home - always buying meals at the cafe. And how many times was that now that she and Sam just managed to bump into each other with the stated subject of "we have to talk about Dex-TAAAAAA, who curiously thinks he not only owns Walford, but knows a stranger whose implanted seed helped create him 20 years ago well enough to be tactless, ignorant, selfish and entitled enough to badmouth a late but willing father in the faces of Jay, Lola and Phil Mitchell, all of whom lost fathers or had a brutal upbringing by a dad far worse than Sam the Sham.He really is a cocky little turd who deserves a smack. (Aside: Well, there's Lexi out of the way for the up-and-coming-Teens Go Wild in the Wilderness week, considering that "Pops" Billy wants to babysit her). Almost as ridiculous as Dex-TAAAAA's spoiled child ranting was Tanya's and The Magic Negro's sister moment ...
(The one on the left is George Clooney's aunt). The idea of Tanya giving The Magic Negro advice on lurrrrrve was ridiculous. At least, now she's leaving, she admitted that she and Max had put themselves before their children's needs, but advised Ava the Rava to do something for herself at the moment, especially when Ava the Rava admitted something everyone (yawn) had known all along, that she still loves Sam the Sham. Here she hoped to turn into Lena Horne, I think ...
Instead, we, the viewers get this ...
Honestly, Ava te Rava has a face like a slapped bum. No wonder Sam didn't marry anyone else; he couldn't rid himself of the nightmare of her Klingon face. On the other hand, Lorraine's miracle of love, warmth and understanding comes through, when Phil Mitchell, the Saint Joseph of Walford gives avuncularly advice to Dex-TAAAAA about his father, which only means that the little cock will tolerate his presence for two weeks more and then he'd better leave ... or Dex-TAAAAA will throw his toys out of his pram again. More entitlement ... Here's a kid who works and earns a wage, lives at home with his mummy, and still has to borrow twenty quid for an evening out with his mates? And EastEnders wants to foist more such entitlement on us? The Magic Negro is more than happy to oblige, however, especially since it means she gets more time to play Kiss-Me-Mandingo with Sam the Sham. This was dire. Just dire. Even more dire than the shoddy scene in the BBC's Sunday night historical drama series. The White Queen, where we saw a zipper at the back of a Fifteenth Century Queen's gown. The BBC is insulting all of us with this garbage. Just when you thought the show had turned a corner, it spews up cack like this. Perrie Balthazar should be the next one in the writing room to follow Katie Douglas's ass out the door of Elstree. Rubbish. Repetitive rubbish. I almost forgot ... the most embarrassing moment of the episode, was when Sam came to see The Magic Negro, and we had a three-minute attempt at REALLY INTENSE PROFESSIONAL ACTING by Clare Perkins and Cornell S John. And you know what? They were putrid. Embarrassingly putrid. Tell me ... who hired these clowns?
Ladies and gentlemen, the new EastEnders' theme song:-
Yep, this is the current state of EastEnders: We. Are. Family. Now, I know that this, to some, means a reflection of Lorraine Newman's ethos of love and warmth, but scratch the surface. Take the Brannings (please, and shove them all over a cliff). They are connected with the Beales and the Butchers through Bianca. They are related to the Mitchells through Amy. Ronnie was married to Jack. Bradley Branning was married to Stacey Slater, so the Slaters are brought into the equation. Dot married Jim, so she becomes the Branning matriarch - in fact, before Dot married Jim, she was never ever considered a matriarch, more of a tragic comedy figure. Through Alice's brief association with Michael, the Brannings are now associated with the Moons, as well as Derek's Shaggerman stint with Kat. Extending the web further, the Foxes, through Denise's relationship with Ian, are indirectly connnected to the Brannings too. Then there's Cora, who brings in Ava the Rava and Cock ... and Sam the Sham. Cora's got a friendship with Patrick, which associates him with them. Cock is friends with Lola, another Mitchell connection. Jay is sleeping with Abi, yet another faux Mitchell connection. Jack slept with Bimbo Sharon, and she was Tanya's BFF. So the Brannings are connected with another iconic original character. All roads lead to BranningVille. The new character about to arrive, Carl, will be associated with the Brannings, not only through Kirsty, but also through his association with Derek. This is more than a community. This is incest. Haunted Walford: The Ghost and the Vampire.
Whoda thunk EastEnders would have become a horror show? But that's what it has become, in part. It's now June. Derek died on Christmas Day, almost 7 months ago, yet he's still being mentioned, discussed, referenced. Alice's grief has been acknowledged, although a couple of weeks ago, the reason for her kleptomania, as she explained to Poopy-La-Dim, was down to the pressure of having to juggle Janine's agenda against Michael's manipulations. But now, tonight, we see it's really down to her undying grief for Daddy Derek. I find it amazing that Derek Branning, a character so universally unpopular with viewers, the much-heralded hard man who was a comic version of DelBoy on speed, is still the focus of so much discussion and angst amongst the citizens of Walford. He's there as a reminder to Alfie of Kat's unwarranted and, as yet, unexplained infidelity. To Carol, Max and Jack, he's the brother who dominated them and whom they lost. To Bianca, he's the possible key to finding David. To Ian, he was an unintentional financier. To Kirsty, he was the man who introduced her to Max. The list goes on. This is a character who stayed a year and was hated, At best, he was a joke. At worst, he was dire. Yet Derek still hangs over the Square and exerts more influence in death, than he ever did in life. Now consider Pat. Pat was the definitive matriarch of the Square. If you wanted a lychpin to every family, you had Pat, who was linked by blood, marriage or friendship to everyone. Pat died on New Year's Day 2012. Yet by this time last year, no one was mentioning Pat. Janine was under immense pressure and about to give birth. We all knew she was still grieving Pat, yet it was never mentioned. The only mention she got was when Janine named her daughter "Patricia," and her husband promptly took it upon himself to register her name as "Scarlett." It boggles my mind that the driving unseen force behind Walford these days is Derek Branning and not Pat Evans. Bianca the Retard is poor ...
so instead of saving for her children's clothing and food, she's surfing the Internet (a luxury) in search of a private detective. Why? To trace her errant and absent father. Her cousin, Peter - whom she still refers to as "Pe'urgh Beale", gave her the letter he found in a box at Ian's house. Now Carol has it, and she scuppers any notion Bianca might have of getting David to return, because it appears this letter says he's not coming back. I know people are awaiting the return of David Wicks like Christians await the second coming, but at this point and time, it certainly looks as though it ain't gonna happen - at least not by September, anyway. What this entire shenanigans did expose was the fact that Ian Beale actually stole money which, if it be legitimate, should have belonged to Joey and MyAlice. Now the even bigger question would be this: if he'd given the box, money intact, to Carol, after finding the letter, do you seriously think Carol and Bianca would have parted with that ten thousand quid and given it to Joey and Alice? Remember, Bianca's the one who, indirectly, profited from Tiffany pinching the Millers' lottery ticket. So much for families. I didn't like Ian's weaseliness tonight and his evasiveness about explaining how he came by the letter. TPTB like playing up Ian's cowardly side, but the idea that Ian's afraid of his bullying, blowhard of a niece is ridiculous. Ian had her in tears when he slipped on a wet floor in the cafe a few years back, with her crouching in the house crying about him calling the police. All of a sudden, Bianca is this bully. Maybe Ian needs to remind his niece that her father, his brother, cheated the hell out of cheating with Ian's wife, who happened to be Steven's, Peter's and Lucy's mum. And that David has lately done the same with Simon's (his other brother) wife. Instead he hands back the box, devoid of funds, to Carol and Bianca. And Bianca gives a brilliant example of why it pays to think critically. Seeing a cellphone number scribbled on a scrap of paper, she automatically assumes it's David's and calls the number. Dumbass cow. And now she gives just too much information, which will cost both her and Ian dearly in the long run. Enter Carl-with-a C. On the other side of the coin, we have Joey running all over the place, finally worrying about MyAlice, and Saint Kat, the Mother Teresa of Walford and Jack, running all over the place worried shitless about Michael, who is in another manipulative mood, pullling the strings again in all the right places and at all the right intervals, by pretending to be catatonic. This is similar to the same "sleepwalking routine" he enacted when Ronnie was still around. And he's using his mum's old psychopathic control tricks - causing concern by going missing, then locking himself in the office of the boxing club ... Hurry, hurry, he might do something drastic. Kat's radioactive tits are on GPS duty and they lead the way to where he's hiding out. And - eh voila' - Michael ends up staying in Jack's flat with Jack playing nursemaid to a grown man, who's stitching the pair of these planks up like kippers. He's got what he wanted - he couldn't stay at the Slater Hotel any longer because of the state in which he'd left Alice, so without as much as lifting a finger, and spending a mere one night in the boxing club, he's got accommodation courtesy of Jack, who should be belting the daylights out of his morbid flesh for popping the cherry of his niece, a girl young enough to be his daughter. This is what slays me about this creep - Alfie, Kat, Jack, Roxy, Jean all have cause to hate the sight of him, yet they bend over backwards to feel sorry for his psycopathic ass. Joey, himself, is worried now, because he's spent so much time fucking his cousin, he neglected to see the trouble his baby sister was getting herself into. Sad to say that David Witts's acting hasn't improved in the least in the year since he's joined the cast. He stank up the place tonight. I know the writers are attempting to write him as a Mini-me Derek, but he patterns his vocal intonations and accent on Jake Wood (badly) and it comes out as preposterous, which is why the writer - Jeff Povey, an experienced one of long-standing - has to insert Alice's gratuitous line about Joey being more like Derek than he realises, followed by his discovery of a picture one presumes is Joey as a young child. Daddy Issues ... who'd have'em? Well, plenty do ... People About Whom We Don't Give a Rat's Arse ...
Or rather, aliens invade Walford. There's Ava the Rava, who's buying a sandwich to sustain her hunger on her daily patrol of Walford (the teacher who doesn't teach), the Magic Negro with the Klingon brow and her antennae stowed in her pineapple-shaped weave; her part Klingon-part Vulcan- totally Will Smith rip-off son, Cock; and Sam the Sham (without the Pharoahs) ...
This is totally mindless malarkey, which gives a new definition to going around aimlessly in circles. Ava trolls the streets, Cock is repeatedly rude. Sam the Sham senses Cock has a girlfriend, so we have another totally meaningless scene where he awkwardly tries to ingratiate himself with Lola. If there was another stench about the Square tonight, it was Danielle Harold, who either was having an off-day or who sensed how stupid these filler scenes were. She was awful - from the stupid lines about advising Sam of what sort of male beauty treatment he needed to the snide remarks she gave about Alice helping out, when it's obvious now that Tanya's business is less than thriving - is anyone surprised? - she, like Witts, stank up the place. Honestly, the writers are so hard put to find something to write which would justify Ava's continued presence in the Square, along with Dex-TAAAAAAAA's and Sam the Sham's, it's pathetic. It's worse than pathetic, it's embarrassing. It's the same old same old. Ava and Dex-TAAAAAA are out and about. Dex-TAAAAAA sees daddy and runs off; Daddy seeks son. Ava the Rava magically appears (well, she is the Magic Negro) ...
... Dex-TAAAA is rude and calls her a liar; Ava tells Sam the Sham "I told you so," which really means "I fancy you, let's fuck, but don't tell the kid" and Sam keeps grinning. I keep expecting him to burst into a chorus of Old Man River ...
Same old same old here. Move on. I think when Ava and Sam eventually do fuck and Cock finds out, they mosey on off together and live someplace else ... and take the rancid old crone with them. In the World of the Blind, the One-Eyed Man Is King ... In this instance, we've got a one-eyed woman, and that's Kirsty. So tonight we know that Kirsty was an addict - addicted to what, she doesn't say (although, earlier in the year, remember, she told Lauren that she was hooked on drink once, herself). Kirsty recognises the signs of addiction - Lauren's trembling hands, constantly being cold because her body heat is off-kilter, sleeping, vomiting. Of all the people involved in this storyline, she's doing the best in dealing with Lauren - but Lauren, addict that she is, is refusing to see. She has to hit rock bottom. This is a pity, because we know what's about to break loose with Kirsty and her big lie, as well as Carl-with-a-C turning up. Max is the father of four children. Under normal circumstances, Kirsty would be sporting a small bump; instead, she's skinny as the day she arrived. Don't even mention how she conceals her periods and tampons etc. Tanya's the asshole here, and here's more proof that her leaving line is more about Lauren and less about her; however, on thinking about it, it's just karma, for the shit parent she's been. She's the Hyacinth Bucket of Walford, scrubbing up her kids and making them presentable, like herself, but hiding the rottenness within. Wrong, Tanya ... Abi is not your priority today. At the best of times, Abi is probably the more mature of your two daughters - albeit both are mightily entitled - the child who should be your priority is the child you kicked out. And now you want her back because maybe, just maybe, she's settling in at Max's. Wouldn't do for Max to claim parental responsibility, would it? He's only there to cough up money and pay the bills. As she reiterated to Max tonight about Lauren, "She's my baby." Well, she's Max's baby too, and one he abandoned another baby, who's now dead, for; and he'll be damned if he sees another baby die. This is Tanya, who scurries a drunken Lauren upstairs with a promise to give her a painkiller for her headache. Really, Tanya? Drugs and alcohol? Are you that stupid? Still, Max is one of the ostriches as well, refusing Kirsty's advice to get Lauren to see a doctor. Like Tanya the other week, he thinks this is something all teenagers do and it will blow over. Are these people seriously retarded? This is why the Brannings will never be the premier family of Walford. Jossa was almost bearable tonight, until she went into fever pitch and started screaming. Is there never time she won't resort to this? Seriously, it does nothing to distract from her lack of talent. Oh, and if you want to see where Lauren and Abi get that misplaced sense of entitlement, check out Tanya calling around Max's and attempting to push past Kirsty when she opened the door, without so much as a request to be allowed to enter. This is someone else's home, dumb bitch, and your daughter is living there with her father. You ask permission to enter. You're quick enough to call Max out when he tries that trick. Kudos to Kirsty. Moment of the Night: When MyAlice started crying and her mascara ran down her cheeks. The make-up department have been laying it on too thick lately. Another watchable episode. Watchable. Good, by this current team's standing, mediocre by Matt Robinson's.
