Dexter: Resurrection (Season 1)

Creator: Clyde Phillips
Starring: Michael C. Hall, Uma Thurman, Jack Alcott, David Zayas, Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine, Kadia Saraf, Dominic Fumusa, Emilia Suárez, James Remar, Peter Dinklage, Eric Stonestreet, Steve Schirripa, John Lithgow, Erik King, Jimmy Smits, Marc Menchaca, C.S. Lee, Desmond Harrington, Neil Patrick Harris, Krysten Ritter, David Dastmalchian, Christian Camargo
Original Airdate: 2025

**The Following Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers**

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Having last seen former Miami Metro forensics expert and vigilante killer Dexter Morgan lying lifeless in the snow after being shot by his own son, the anti-hero got about as conclusive a finish as we've seen since Walter White's demise in Breaking Bad. But in one of the more shocking TV developments in recent years, Dexter returns with its best iteration yet after seemingly concluding for good after 2022's underappreciated New Blood finale. 

For those still upset how the original series signed off in 2013, that ending should have been their antidote, as Dexter's crimes weren't only exposed, but he accepted his fate, willingly facing consequences at the hands of the person he hurt most. Instead, fans proved they're still tough to please, even when given what they've claimed to want all along. But no matter how anyone feels about creator and showrunner Clyde Phillips' creative decisions, the announcement of three new impending Dexter shows (including the now cancelled prequel Original Sin) prompted justifiable skepticism.  

The idea of picking up where New Blood left off may have caused jaws to drop, but whatever ideas remained from its hypothetical second season now morphs into the brilliant Dexter: Resurrection, which isn't just a huge departure from the formula, but sets a new bar for the franchise as a whole. Armed with a fresh setting, top notch writing and acting, a dream cast and possibly its most potent villain yet, these ten thrilling episodes find a physically and psychologically spent Dexter at the end of his rope. Reckoning with his past while facing the reality he's brought more harm than good to those closest to him, he'll try not to squander a second chance at being the father he couldn't before. 

This is a different, more determined Dexter, intent on controlling his dark side to protect the only person who still matters. But after finding a safe space where his worst impulses are accepted and encouraged, he finds dangerous strings attached, just as a familiar face from his past reemerges to take him down. Full of mind blowing developments, this season finds the show firing on all cylinders, finally giving fans something they can unanimously agree on. 

Dexter Morgan (Michael C. Hall) has awakened from a ten week coma after suffering a near-fatal gunshot wound at the hands of his son Harrison (Jack Alcott), who's since fled Iron Lake for New York City. Still believing his father died, he works as a bellhop at the Empire Hotel while Dexter continues to recover. But when Harrison snaps, killing a sexual predator to prevent the rape of a hotel guest, the crime immediately grabs the attention of meticulously wired NYPD homicide detective Claudette Wallace (Kadia Saraf) and her skeptical partner Oliva (Dominic Fumusa). 

Upon hearing of the killer's familiar body disposal method, Dexter heads to NYC to help Harrison. Unfortunately, former Miami Metro police captain, colleague and friend Angel Batista (David Zayas) trails behind, more determined than ever to prove Dexter's guilt. But as deceased adoptive father Harry (James Remar) reappearing as his inner consciousness, Dexter watches Harrison from afar, forging a friendship with kindly rideshare driver and new landlord Blessing (Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine). 

It's only when serial killer Ron "Red" Schmidt (Marc Menchaca) is branded with Dexter's own "Dark Passenger" moniker for murdering the city's drivers that his vengeful yearnings take hold, leading him to a secret society of serial killers funded by billionaire philanthropist Leon Prater (Peter Dinklage). But as Batista closes in on Dexter, an impressed Prater takes a real liking to his newest recruit, despite suspicions from icy, loyal head of security Charley (Uma Thurman). Now Dexter not only needs to protect his cover, but also Harrison, who he's on the cusp of reconnecting with. 

You'd figure it would be impossible to explain away Dexter surviving that apparently fatal gunshot wound at the end of New Blood, but the writers cleverly manage to do this logically. And while there are still minor plot holes, it's surprising just how cleverly they account for him not being booked on murder charges, clearing the table for a next crucial chapter. 

As Dexter fights for his life, some of the show's most pivotal figures reappear to him in a vision, offering valuable insight into his past and potential future. It plays as kind of a series highlight reel, with John Lithgow's Trinity Killer, Jimmy Smits' Miguel Prado and even Erik King's Sgt. Doakes returning to remind him that Harrison needs his best. Of course, the most important voice occupying Dexter's mind is his Dark Passenger, conveyed through the hallucinatory presence of late father Harry. 

Remar's role as Harry only gains greater significance after seeing how Christian Slater's take on the elder Morgan in Original Sin shed additional light on the impetus of he and Dexter's complicated bond. And it's also why this season functions as a closer companion to the prequel than original series, with the two trading barbs back-and-forth throughout. Ghost Harry may be hilariously sarcastic and disapproving, but Dexter gives it right back as he expresses serious hesitancy at the notion of reentering Harrison's life.

Moonlighting as a rideshare driver shortly after arriving in NYC, an emotionally paralyzed Dexter knows Harrison needs help but has no idea how to approach a son who still thinks he killed him. And while Jack Alcott impressed in New Blood, many didn't count on him getting the chance to reprise this role again, much less add so many new wrinkles to a character who's endured a lot. 

Though Dexter and Harry are both responsible for the deaths of their son's mothers, Harrison isn't necessarily destined to follow in their flawed footsteps despite also being "born in blood." Like Dexter, Harrison has the ability to fit in anywhere, finding a job and a place to temporarily crash, even managing to easily make friends without the social awkwardness that defines his dad. Where he differs is in feeling remorse for a crime committed not out of an uncontrollable urge, but a desire to help someone. It's his very fear of becoming Dexter that stands as the most conclusive proof he isn't.  

Harrison just goes too far in the moment, recognizing this in a self reflective way Dexter never could when his reckless behavior harmed those he loved most, like Rita and Deb. It's a moral distinction that more closely aligns Harrison with his late mom than a dad who continues to view himself as a "Dark Avenger." In actuality, he'd be better off taking lessons on being a superhero from his own son. 

Much of Harrison's story revolves around Dexter realizing he can't be the father Harry was for him since the youngest Morgan lacks that Dark Passenger gene. The kid just needs his dad, which doesn't mean Harrison isn't still shaped by Dexter's past, whether he's being drawn to rescuing co-worker and single mom Elsa (Emilia Suárez) or potentially pursuing a career in law enforcement. 

True to his character, Harrison's also a bad liar who finds himself in the crosshairs of neurodivergent, Bee Gee's loving homicide detective Wallace. Fittingly played by Law and Order alum Saraf as the smartest, most observant cop either Morgan could encounter, she quickly puts the pieces together, zeroing in on the nervous bellhop as her prime suspect. Watching Harrison clumsily try to cover his tracks before stammering under the pressure of Wallace's questioning, we're reminded of young Dexter's mistakes in Original Sin, minus the eager enthusiasm. 

Harrison hates himself for pulling the trigger, but also despises his dad for asking him to, even as Dexter rightly accepts the blame. It won't be until he saves his son from a growing mountain of circumstantial evidence that the ice between them starts thawing. But while everyone's new favorite UrCar driver shows promising signs of selflessness in his conversations with Harrison and bond with Blessing and his family, the darkness persists. Having already eliminated Dark Passenger knock-off Red, Dexter can't pass on joining an exclusive serial killers club, regardless of whether he was officially invited. And though his best lies always contain an abundance of truth, he's really playing with fire this time. 

Surreal as it is to see Uma Thurman in the Dexter universe, her introductory scene goes quite a distance in establishing the badass Charley as a cold, calculated fixer who doesn't suffer fools. Clad in tactical gear, she slyly maneuvers herself into Red's apartment, leaving the gift and dinner invitation Dexter claims as his own, making it that much easier to speculate just how dangerous her boss is. 

While Dinklage's Leon Prater is a serious threat, he's not your usual Dexter adversary, giving the newest member of his secret society an enthusiastically warm welcome. But with each word, expression and mannerism, Dinklage subtly hints at a god complex bubbling beneath, suggesting much more to this wealthy collector with a mysterious past. 

Dexter may be Prater's latest prize, but he's hardly the first, as confirmed by a trophy room filled with personally obtained effects and evidence from infamous serial killers such as John Wayne Gacy, Ted Bundy, Son of Sam, Jeffrey Dahmer and the fictitious "New York Ripper" Detective Wallace has devoted her career to catching. 

Of course, that elaborate display that wouldn't be complete without souvenirs from Trinity, Dexter's Ice Truck Killer brother Brian Moser (Christian Camargo) and the legendary Bay Harbor Butcher, who Prater has now unknowingly let into his inner sanctum.

The reveal of this vault might be the season's creepiest scene but what stands out more is Dexter's reaction to seeing his infamous blood slides or the gurney on which he ended Brian's life. And any lie he tells as Red reveals more than a bit of truth about himself, his mask dropping at many points, much to the delight of a giddy, starstruck Prater. 

Joining Dinklage and Thurman is a stacked supporting ensemble comprising of Krysten Ritter, David Dastmalchian, Neil Patrick Harris and Eric Stonestreet as the various killers, each of whom have their own twisted methodology. Ritter's "Lady Vengeance" and Dastmalchian's "Gemini" leave the largest impressions, not just due to their chilling performances, but how their characters are written and played to reflect different aspects of Dexter, who adheres to a code neither could possibly understand or abide by. 

All of these members have a loose, preconceived sets of rules, but they're really no different than Dexter's many other cold blooded victims, regardless of how closely their past traumas resemble his. With Ritter's Mia, it's a dysfunctional family history while Dastmalchian's Gareth dredges up Dexter's unresolved baggage with his own brother. 

Despite her penchant for offing sexual predators, Mia isn't the heroic vigilante the media or Dexter assumed, even if she still proves valuable in his quest to protect Harrison. Unsure whether to befriend or murder these killers, Dexter treads carefully at first, calculating the risk of everyone disappearing immediately after he's joined the group. 

Impressed and deliriously pleased by his newest recruit, we get the impression serial killer fanboy Prater might be ecstatic after uncovering Dexter's true identity, especially since most everything else Dexter reveals about his tortured soul is true. And the more we learn about Prater's Bruce Wayne-like backstory, the clearer it becomes why he's so intrigued by his favorite pupil's unusual "share" with the group. 

But whatever childhood commonalities he may share with Dexter, Prater thrives on manipulation and control, getting his kicks from others needing him to survive. Expertly conveying both sides of this meglomaniac, an Emmy-worthy Dinklage inhabits a greedy monster who wields superficial generosity as a weapon, his wealth merely a means to own people for personal amusement. 

While Prater exhibits uncontainable excitement at the members' various kills and methods, Charley acts as his loyal soldier, particularly suspicious of Dexter from day one. But even her allegiance to the boss extends only so far as we gradually learn the true nature of their arrangement, leading to some intense, vulnerable work from Thurman in the home stretch. 

With Batista continuing to close in on a united Dexter and Harrison, it's only a matter of time before it all lands on Prater's lap. If Dexter fails again in keeping Harrison safe, much of that can be traced to his own past haunting him in the form of Batista. Now that the co-worker and friend he bonded with for over twenty years knows he's the  Bay Harbor Butcher, every Batista memory is tainted by the totality of Dexter's crimes. Most especially the deaths of ex-wife Maria and Sgt. Doakes.

All of this provides David Zayas with the chance to play an obsessive, unhinged version of his beloved character who'll stop at nothing for justice, despite being recently retired. The problem lies in him having only vaguely circumstantial evidence of Dexter's guilt,along with the fact he's impersonating an active law enforcement officer. 

While we know Batista's right about everything, it's understandable why he'd start looking like a crazed madman to Wallace or just about anyone else, including promoted former colleague and friend Lieutenant Quinn (a returning Desmond Harrington).  

Though Batista's attempt to catch the Butcher in action backfires spectacularly and destroys his case, Dexter's respect for him doesn't waver. His warnings to back off aren't threats, but pleas, knowing it always ends badly for those who choose this path. And that's exactly what happens to Batista once he meets Prater, who's predictably wowed to be in the same room as the notorious Bay Harbor Butcher. Only we know Dexter could never bring himself to kill Batista, or at least not for the sole purpose of indulging Prater's sick thrills. 

It's ultimately Batista's hatred and sense of justice that consumes him, angrily sacrificing his own life to destroy Dexter, who underestimated just how much pain and damage he caused. Even without literally killing Deb, Maria, Doakes or Rita, he remains unquestionably responsible for their deaths, causing any apologies to ring hollow. 

Dexter probably knew Batista aligning with him was a long shot, and unlike in his earlier fallout with Blessing, doesn't receive the forgiveness he genuinely seeks. So hurt and rattled by Batista's dying words, all he can do now is let out an anguished, primal scream.

Dexter's relationship with Harrison is the one he ends up salvaging, simply by being somewhat transparent and accepting that his son isn't him. Prater's machinations seal his own fate once Charley realizes she's also had enough, paving the way for Dexter to deny him a dignity even his most depraved victims receive. Categorizing Prater as irrelevant and unmemorable, Dexter uses the puppet master's own words against him, spitefully foregoing the minimal attention a blood slide could provide.  

Where this resembles the original series is in a lack of cliffhangers or loose ends, with the book closing until a new season, whether that's in NYC or possibly somewhere else. Just about the only lingering thread is the question of Batista's body being found in the vault, which glaringly links Dexter and Prater. It'll be interesting to see if this raises any red flags, assuming the writers choose to go there. 

The closing image of Dexter on a yacht as he disposes of Prater is the scene we didn't know we needed, calling back to his days in Miami. And with unfortunate cancellation of Original Sin, it might be the closest we'll get, at least for now. With Dexter wrestling with the reality of who he is, this season was all about Harrison helping him learn how to better control and accept it. And while we all know Michael C. Hall's versatile enough to tackle any other project right now, this showcased exactly why he shouldn't. Much like the actor who plays him, Dexter's back where he belongs, even if it'll be an excruciating wait to see what comes next.                                                                                                                          

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Director: Tom Gormican
Starring: Nicolas Cage, Pedro Pascal, Sharon Horgan, Tiffany Haddish, Ike Barinholtz, Alessandra Mastronardi, Neil Patrick Harris, Lily Sheen, Paco León, Katrin Vankova, David Gordon Green
Running Time: 107 min.
Rating: R 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Tom Gormican's The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is a tale of two movies, both starring Nicolas Cage as himself, or at least some version of it. One film is the meta fantasy we anticipated from its insane trailer, while the other spoofs the actor's big budget action spectacles like Face/Off and The Rock. Actually, nearly everything Cage has ever done is referenced, and even though the portions exploring the psyche of one of our most fascinatingly weird and gifted performers surpasses a somewhat formulaic plot, both merge at a beautiful place in the end. Gormican even squeezes a bromance in there that feels completely on brand for star who always functioned as the ideal vessel for obsessive fandom. None of this cuts too deep, but remains completely self-aware in the way you'd want a Nic Cage film about himself to be, comically digging into the neurosis, insecurity and narcissism that accompanies a majorly recognizable star wrestling with a mid-life crisis. 

Those elements dovetail nicely into real-life criticisms of Cage working non-stop on mindless action vehicles for big paydays. But it's to his and Gormican's credit that the script doesn't shy away from that, even going so far as to revolve the entire story around it. As expected, we get what's probably a highly fictionalized version of the actor, which is almost beside the point when what matters is that the Cage on screen matches how audiences and fans perceive him in reality. It's a huge distinction the movie's smart enough to recognize, at times even shielding it from criticism as it ironically emerges to be one of the safer, more accessible mainstream pictures Cage has recently made. And yet it still remains delightfully odd since so much of his popularity stems from being able to infuse that unmistakable eccentricity into all of his work, regardless of genre. It'll draw the most comparisons to Adaptation in how it occupies a vaguely similar kind of meta-verse, but this time he's the subject, with Easter eggs, career call backs and inside jokes to spare. It's a real treat for both diehard and casual Cage fans, neither of whom will walk away disappointed.

Things aren't going well for legendary Hollywood actor Nicolas Cage. Having just been passed over for a career rejuvenating role in the latest David Gordon Green project, his relationship with ex-wife Olivia (Sharon Horgan) is strained and he's just made an embarrassing spectacle of himself at daughter Addy's (Lily Sheen) sweet sixteen party. Mentally tormented by a younger, more successful version of himself, his agent Richard Fink (Neil Patrick Harris) suggests he take million dollar payday to be the guest of honor at billionaire playboy and Cage superfan Javi Gutierrez's (Pedro Pascal) birthday party in Majorca. 

Despite Cage seriously contemplating retirement and wanting to be anywhere else, he takes the gig, eventually warming up to Javi as they bond over their shared love of films and even plan to develop a movie together based on Javi's screenplay. But when Cage is cornered by CIA agents Vivian (Tiffany Haddish) and Martin (Ike Barinholtz) with information that his new friend is a wanted arms dealer behind the kidnapping of a politician's daughter (Katrin Vankova), the actor's reluctantly roped into going undercover. Now suddenly the star of his own real-life action adventure, Cage needs to tap into what he's learned in his most famous roles to escape this mess and protect his own family.

An opening kidnap scene with Con-Air as its backdrop confirms that whatever we hoped to get from this wacky premise will be delivered, while mirroring back at us our own relationship with Cage's most memorable roles. Everything from Captain Corelli's Mandolin, The Croods II, Leaving Las Vegas to Guarding Tess are acknowledged in surprisingly funny ways that feel clever rather than forced, saying as much about fans' opinions of these titles and the actor as it does Cage himself. But hardly just a retrospective homage, the script's at its best when attempting to get inside the star's head as he wrestles with personal and professional failings. The former is a bigger problem since any attempts to connect with daughter Lily involve him shaming her into sharing his strange obsessions, like a love for the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. His one-sided bonding attempts are met with exasperated eye rolls from her and mom Olivia, as both doing little to hide their contempt for years of neglect.

It's admittedly difficult to picture Cage having an ex-wife and daughter who are this normal and well- adjusted having been under the celebrity microscope for so long. But that's partly why it works since it would be too uncomfortably realistic and detrimental to the story if they acknowledged his multiple ex-wives who were often decades younger. Besides feeling like a cheap shot and clashing with the film's tone, him instead having a likable and relatable ex-wife and daughter disappointed in his behavior was definitely the way to go. It helps set up a payoff later when Cage has to step up to protect his family, showing signs of the father and husband they always hoped he'd be. 

In both purpose and execution, this has to be one of the better uses of de-aging technology in the past few years, as Cage argues incessantly with the imagined "Nicky," (credited as Nicolas Kim Coppola) a young, brash, fame-hungry version of himself circa his Wild at Heart and Honeymoon in Vegas era. He's crazy Cage on overdrive, chastising the actor about how much more famous and successful he used to be while preying on the his biggest insecurities. But luckily, new buddy Javi's admiration  knows no bounds, as proven by his shrine room dedicated to Cage's career, complete with a life-size Castor Troy wax figure.

Continuing a streak that began with The Mandalorian and continued into WW84, Pedro Pascal again proves his versatility as either hero or villain, almost stealing this out from under the actor it's supposed to be about. As an overexcited child who's finally gotten to meet his hero, he's the movie's beating heart, playing Javi as a creepily endearing ode to fandom itself, letting viewers vicariously celebrate the oddness of this one-of-a-kind pop culture icon through him. While a couple of their misadventures, drug-induced excursions and improvisational exercises together run longer than necessary (adding about 10-15 minutes of bloat to the film), that's forgiven since Cage and Pascal have such a great chemistry, geeking out at every turn over movies and, of course, their favorite movie star. 

Cage's performance is pitch perfect, bringing great comic timing and self-loathing to a character that's him, though not quite. There's also an effective payoff to Nick's ineptitude as an undercover CIA mole being forced to turn on his best friend and maybe the only person who truly understands the enigma that's his life. The movie knows what we want, delivering a few swerves before arriving at a third act with murder, disguises, explosions, betrayals, insanity and a really great surprise cameo. The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent still may not be as crazy as even the gentlest of Cage's films, but it couldn't exist without them, no matter which incarnation of the actor you prefer.                            

Burning Questions From The 2015 Oscars

Well, here we go again. Let's get on with it. My reaction to the show, in question form.

Didn't the stage setup actually look kind of cool this year with all the Oscar statues?

Were you worried some of them might attack?

NPH didn't waste any time with his "best and whitest" joke did he?

Tough room, huh?

Does Oprah's mere presence guarantee the Oscar host will be in for a rough night?

Shouldn't we ask David Letterman?

Isn't Jack Black looking more and more like late career Orson Welles?

Looking at that stone-faced audience, is it any wonder no one ever wants to host this thing?

Wasn't J.K. Simmons right about calling (NOT texting) your parents?

If he screamed it in character as Terence Fletcher, then would you listen?

Didn't everyone just know The Grand Budapest Hotel would handily clean up in technical categories? 

Need we even ask if the show's rushing or dragging?

Don't you wish Adam Levine would sing just a little higher?

Why not bring out Keira Knightley to join him?

Why not show clips from Begin Again in the background?

Did they really shorten that song or what?

Playing winners off already?

How about NPH's poorly timed wardrobe joke after documentary short co-winner Dana Perry spoke about her son's suicide?

Were Seth MacFarlane, Anne Hathaway and James Franco off somewhere secretly breathing sighs of relief?

Was that proof this telecast can destroy anyone?

Wasn't the "Everything is Awesome" performance awesome?

Could Oprah look any happier receiving her Lego Oscar?

Can you blame her?

Was it the only time she smiled all night?

Where's Tommy Lee Jones when you need him?

Is Glen Campbell's "I'm Not Gonna Miss You" the saddest song ever?  

Was the Birdman spoof funnier a day earlier on the Independent Spirit Awards?

But wasn't Miles Teller on drums a clever touch?

Are you hoping NPH was paid well for this?

Like how they grouped the Best Picture clips together to "save time?"

How many of you were able to accurately predict those two sound categories (and miss most everything else) like I did?

Can The Rock host the show next year?

Did Twitter nearly explode with Joker and Jesus references when Jared Leto came up to present?

Did Patricia Arquette turn that podium into her pulpit or what?

Wouldn't Marlon Brando be proud?

Did you see how excited the "underpaid " Meryl Streep was? 

Wasn't it nice to see someone in the audience excited about SOMETHING?

Does "rushing or dragging" accurately describe the ongoing battle between the winners and orchestra?

Did you notice the crowd was completely emotionless, pissed at NPH, or crying throughout the entire show?

Has a room ever taken itself as seriously?

Wasn't that a classy, simple In Memoriam intro from Streep?

Were you relieved they decided to turn off audience sound down on the death montage this year?

Wait, where was Joan Rivers?!!!

Wasn't Rivers' entire brand synonymous with the Oscars?

Do we really need a musical performance either before, during or after the montage?

Was Whiplash's editing win well deserved or what?

Have I ever been happier to get a category wrong?

Didn't NPH's "for some treason" joke explaining Edward Snowden's absence deserve a bigger laugh?

Or ANY laugh at all from this humorless audience? 

Did the surprise wins for Big Hero 6 and Interstellar ruin everyone's scorecard for the night?

Even if it got twice the time as the other nominated songs, wasn't Common and John Legend's performance of "Glory" the high point of the night?

Glom Gazingo?

Wasn't NPH right about John Travolta's excessive face touching of Idina Menzel?

And as hilariously comfortable as that was to watch, wasn't it a great idea to pair them up to present?

Doesn't he more closely resemble Glom Gazingo than John Travolta at this point?

Can we at least give him credit for being what so few in that audience were...a good sport?

Who better embodies the spirit of The Sound of Music than Lady Gaga?

Were you hoping she'd come out with The Muppets?

Even with the knowledge she's talented, didn't she sing that shockingly well? 

Weren't we too late in the broadcast and too spent to even care?

Did you hear the uncontrollable audience laughter at Julie Andrews saying the name "Lady Gaga?"

How about Terrence Howard getting emotional over introducing The Imitation Game?

Wouldn't it be great if every presenter cared that much?

Eddie Murphy... again?

Were you worried Eddie Murphy would refuse to read the nominees and signal for a commercial break?

Was this show longer than SNL 40?

Did having the new Batman present Best Director give away a Birdman win?

Did Inarritu really just talk about balls and "little pricks" in his acceptance speech?

As disappointing as his loss was, isn't it still great that Michael Keaton's officially
back?

Doesn't Eddie Redmayne's wife look like a cross between Evan Rachel Wood and Saoirse Ronan?

Did that make it even more difficult to root for him against Keaton?

Has anyone (other than Cuba Gooding Jr. and Anne Hathaway) ever looked happier to win an Oscar?

Was he channeling his Jupiter Ascending character for a second there? 

Was Julianne Moore played up to the stage by a theme song from an 80's sitcom?

Is that really Still Alice's score (please say yes)?

If it is, should I see that film immediately?

Will the show close with NPH singing the love theme to Still Alice?

Am I the only one who thought his gag with the predictions was funny?

Was Sean Penn's Best Picture announcement the most offensive since Jack Nicholson uttered the words "And the Oscar goes to...Crash" in 2006?

Is Birdman the strangest film in recent memory (or ever?) to win Best Picture?

Isn't it weird that was the conventional, consensus pick? 

Isn't it even weirder Academy members voted for it because it's about "show business?"

Isn't that kind of the last thing it's about?

Is it the film that can break the Best Picture winner's curse and age well?

Isn't it inevitable NPH will be unfairly blamed for whatever went wrong on the show?

Doesn't this telecast confirm that the problems with the Oscars go far beyond whoever is chosen to host?

Do we even need a host?

How long until those online articles start popping up calling for a complete overhaul of the show?

Aside from Carell, Streep, Cumberbatch, Knightley, Keaton and a few others, can we maybe replace the audience next year?

Will I ever learn to stop tinkering with my predictions right up until the start of the show? 

Gone Girl

 
Director: David Fincher
Starring: Ben Affleck, Rosamund Pike, Neil Patrick Harris, Tyler Perry, Carrie Coon, Kim Dickens, Patrick Fugit, Casey Wilson, Missi Pyle, Sela Ward, Emily Ratajkowski, Lisa Banes, David Clennon, Scoot McNairy, Boyd Holbrook, Lola Kirke
Running Time: 145 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

There's a certain amount of baggage that comes with arriving to a movie's party late. And while lateness, by today's standards, constitutes only about a week or two, it takes mere minutes for reactions to seep out and spoilers to leak. It seems in only a matter of hours, a movie's critical and commercial prospects are already written. A hardcover of Gillian Flynn's Gone Girl sits on my bookshelf still unopened, with the plan always being to dive in only after I've seen the film. But trying to go in cold is a pointless exercise, as it wasn't long before I accidentally found out more than I wanted to know. And that's tricky, because with this film, ANYTHING is more than you want to know. But it's not because it's some twisty thriller that heavily relies on plot, as could have been with a director other than David Fincher behind the controls.

There are twists and turns in this for sure, but it never feels like it's at the service of something other than exploring the psyches and motivations of these characters, as well as the disturbing, sickening corrosion of outwardly normal relationships. It's easy seeing how such a dark movie has managed to strike this universal chord, but explaining how without spoiling it becomes trickier. What it will do is likely scare anyone in a committed relationship, and maybe even those who aren't .

On the morning of his fifth wedding anniversary, Missouri bar owner Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) returns home to find his wife, Amy (Rosamund Pike) missing. Signs of a struggle and blood at the scene shift a potential missing person case to a murder investigation with Detective Rhonda Boney (Kim Dickens) Officer James Gilpin (Patrick Fugit) honing in on Nick as their primary suspect. And apparently for good reason. Interspersed  flashbacks and voiceovers from Amy's diary reveal how they first met and became engaged in New York. He, a laid back, corn fed mid westerner. She, an aloof, Type A city girl whose wealthy parents (Lisa Banes and David Clennon) created a popular "Amazing Amy" book series based on her life, or at least their rose-colored version of it.

We slowly discover why they returned to his Missouri hometown and what eventually caused the deterioration of their marriage. With evidence mounting and Nick crumbling under intense media scrutiny, he's rapidly losing the support of everyone but his twin sister Margo (Carrie Coon), signaling it just might be time for him to lawyer up. All that can be safely said is that Amy's disappearance and potential murder isn't the mystery it appears to be.

"Amazing" isn't likely to be the first adjective anyone besides Nick would use in describing the ice cold Amy, as it's difficult to decipher what he initially saw in her that went beyond looks and a somewhat alluring, sophisticated presence. For him, it was enough. Then again, we're given the impression she never really saw it in herself either, always failing to measure up to the idealized fictional book character her parents created and profited from. This could be why something seems really off with this woman right off the bat, making her almost instantly unlikable and aligning our sympathies with him before even knowing the full details of their relationship. Early flashbacks establish in our minds he's too nice a guy for her and will probably be eaten alive. Until we find out he's no boy scout himself, wrestling with his own issues after they've tie the knot. Our allegiances shift back and forth, with only Amy's diary as our guide post, despite her reliability always being in doubt.

That Amy's played by English actress Rosamund Pike is important in so far that no one seems to have any idea who she is, even with a handful of major screen credits to her name over a decade-long career. I'd have trouble naming a single one of them, which is exactly the point. There's a blankness and anonymity to her that Fincher uses to his advantage, even going so far as to claim in interviews it's one of the primary reasons he cast her. We know literally nothing about the actress, which lets no preconceived notions in, allowing Flynn's story to be projected on a clean slate.

If ever there was a case where a big name actress wouldn't work it's here since objectivity (or at least the illusion of it) needs to be retained. It's a casting choice in the vain of mysterious blondes like Grace Kelly or Kim Novak that would make Hitchcock proud, but Pike does the rest of the work, which is more than we imagine it will be when the film begins. And what is "amazing" about Amy is how much life the actress breaths into the character with often only her eyes. Regardless of anyone's familiarity with Pike, this does at least feel like we're seeing her on screen for the first time, with Fincher using that anonymity as a weapon to club unsuspecting audiences.

How Affleck's image and persona is subverted and twisted is an even better example of how Fincher (much like Kubrick before him) uses his actors, transforming their real or perceived weaknesses into strengths that fit the story. Correctly considered a superior director than actor now, Affleck the performer is at his best when playing against his pumped up superstar persona and inhabiting desperate characters whose backs are against the wall. Seemingly overnight, Nick becomes an infamous celebrity and proves as ill equipped at it as anyone else would be in his situation. Unfortunately in his case, this behavior makes him comes across as a guilty sociopath when filtered and magnified through the media's glaring lenses.

Watching Affleck squirm, panic and appear dumbfounded at each new development that further stacks the deck against Nick becomes as exciting as watching a sports event in which you haven't a clue of the outcome. At times it's even darkly hilarious watching this guy's reactions and comparing it to how you think someone in his shoes would behave. It's understandable the police immediately suspect him, and use his apparent cooperation as a means of manipulation. Kim Dickens is perfect as the cop who's perfectly logical and professional. She's really just doing her job, only exceptionally well.    

The worst thing about Neil Patrick Harris' performance as Amy's ex-boyfriend Desi is that I can't address it, as revealing anything would be a spoiler. What can be addressed is that his portion of the film is the strongest and most suspenseful, which is really saying something. His total screen time probably doesn't exceed any more than 10 minutes, but those curious to see how NPH would fare in a seriously dramatic role guided by a top tier filmmaker should prepare to be blown away. Consider this restitution for the actor having to suffer through the final season of How I Met Your Mother and a thrill for viewers getting to see him earn an opportunity he's deserved for a long time. And he absolutely nails it.

The eclectic casting even extends to Tyler Perry as high powered defense attorney Tanner Bolt. Yes, that Tyler Perry. Again a small role, but he's superb in it, proving to be the eyes and ears of the audience sitting in disbelief and shock at what's unfolding. In the midst of  this craziness, he's our voice of reason. Toward the end of the film he has a hilarious line that's just classic and will surely be quoted for years to come because of how perfectly it summarizes Nick's mess.

This third collaboration between Fincher and composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is by far their most unusual in that there's a lot lurking beneath the surface, more specifically these weird, unnerving electronic sounds that fade into the background only to kick up again and accelerate during pivotal scenes, ratcheting up the suspense. It works, creating a nearly constant sense of impending doom in even the quietest moments. The tense atmosphere extends not only to the story and music, but its look as cinematographer Jeff Croneweth manages to makes even daytime scenes feel and appear as if they're occurring in the dead of night. You can almost think of Gone Girl as the twisted cousin of Zodiac and The Game, with the former's theme of obsession meeting the latter's clues and puzzles that similarly constitute the "game" destroying Nick's life.

The last act makes you wonder how something so sadistic could still be this much fun to watch without compromising any of the seriousness. This wasn't necessarily going to be a slam dunk for Fincher, since his adaptation of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, also based on a best selling fictional crime novel, was a rare case of him being dragged down by the material. But this is nothing of the sort, instead returning the director to top form. It's impossible to know how much of the depth was fine-tuned by him and what originated from Flynn's screenplay, but the two prove to be a formidable creative alliance just the same.

There comes a point where it seems the narrative has written itself into a corner, with seemingly only one way out. "They wouldn't do THAT? Would they?" It's an ending that justifiably leaves you talking and thinking. Other directors would have just let the credits roll, but Fincher's smart enough to hang around a while and let the characters have that conversation themselves, and rub our noses in the aftermath. Just the idea that we never truly know who we're with and reveal only the parts of ourselves we want is frightening enough, but this ratchets it up to the most extreme level. After watching it, you'll come away contemplating a whole new meaning of being "trapped" in a marriage. 
            

How I Met Your Mother (Season 8)

Creators: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas
Starring: Josh Radnor, Jason Segel, Cobie Smulders, Neil Patrick Harris, Alyson Hannigan, Lyndsy Fonseca, David Henrie, Bob Saget(voice)
Original Airdate: 2012-2013

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

                                                **Spoiler Warning: This Review Contains Major Plot Spoilers**

So, there's this moment that comes at the end of Episode 20 of How I Met Your Mother's penultimate season, titled, "The Time Travelers," in which Barney (Neil Patrick Harris) attempts to persuade Ted (Josh Radnor) to stop moping at MacLaren's and go with him to see Robots vs. Wrestlers: Legends or he'll regret it in 20 years. Before long, future versions of Ted and Future Barney show up to confirm that. Then comes the kicker: Ted's really sitting alone at the bar. Barney, Robin (Cobie Smulders), Lily (Alyson Hannigan) and Marshall (Jason Segel) are all too busy with their own lives to go with him. And all the events that occur in the episode actually happened five years ago, as a lonely, dejected Ted replays them in his own mind.

It'll be 45 days until he meets the mother and Bob Saget's narration informs us that if he could go back, he'd spend it with his friends. Ted imagines himself knocking on the mother's apartment door and introducing himself early, saying he'd do anything to get extra time with her. The entire sequence is Season 1 level quality, proving that creators Carter Bay and Craig Thomas are still capable of pulling off the magic when necessary. The moment encapsulates what's best about the series during another season where not enough of the rest does. It's the first time the end actually feels in sight  while even vaguely addressing crazy fan theories that Ted might be telling this story from a rubber room, or that he and The Mother, down the road, may no longer be together.

We've seen Ted Mosby depressed over the past 8 years, but we've never seen him truly hopeless until now. He's given up and is well on his way to rock bottom, which presumably arrives the weekend of a certain wedding that will somehow end for him in the rain on a Farhampton train platform with "the girl with the yellow umbrella." And now, shockingly, she's here. Bays and Thomas definitely saved their biggest play for last this season and while it's a shame it had to follow nearly three years of wheel-spinning and stalling, it does feel like a giant weight has been lifted off the show by revealing her to us (if not Ted just yet) and insuring we'll be getting to know her a lot better soon. Just doing that is a controversial decision in itself so it remains to be seen just how much that will positively or negatively affect their eventual meeting, which is one of the last big weapons the writers can still claim to have up their sleeves at this point.

Teds and Barneys in "The Time Travelers"

Unmistakably, and no matter what has come before, that meeting will still be a MOMENT. How much emotional impact it'll carry is now up to them and the performance of an untested, little known actress.  But as difficult as it is to digest, there's also a full season's worth of developments that came before that reveal. Well, sort of. Mostly it was just more of the same, with very few exceptions. But the good news is that for the first time in a while things at least look promising for a strong finish. It's certainly no secret that we probably shouldn't even be talking about an upcoming ninth season and this story should have been tighter and wrapped up a lot sooner, but because the show continues to financially thrive for CBS, these are the cards we've been dealt.

Most of the first half of the eighth season is spent cleaning up a gigantic mess the writers got themselves into at the end of a pretty awful seventh season. In their defense, they accomplish this as quickly and efficiently as possible, even if there's no getting around the obvious fact that none of it should have happened to begin with. Robin and Barney are each in committed relationships (though not with each other...yet), Lily and Marshall now have a baby and Ted had shockingly run away with Victoria (a returning Ashley Williams) on her wedding day. Of course, we know that none of these relationships will last, as we've continually gotten flashforward glimpses of Robin and Barney's wedding for the past few seasons. They're interspersed, as usual, with the show's main framing device of Future Ted recounting to his kids (Lyndsy Fonseca and David Henrie) the story of how he met their mother. And it's a story that's become increasingly long-winded and detailed, with seemingly no end in sight, at least until this season's potentially show-saving final shot.

Barney's engagement to stripper Quinn (Becki Newton), Robin's not-so-serious union with himbo Nick (Michael Trucco) and Ted's second go-around with fan favorite Victoria all collapse within a span of five episodes collectively known as "The Autumn of Break-Ups." That this doesn't even qualify as a spoiler of any sort should give you an idea how painfully predictable and unfunny they are, with the only relief coming from the aforementioned Farhampton flashforward in the premiere and the fact that we're now finally freed up get down to business.Why Ted, who was so memorably left at the altar himself, would run away with another man's bride on her wedding day is a question we'll continue to ponder. Along why Victoria was brought back to be labeled as a "slob" and give Ted a Friends-inspired ultimatum. Or why Barney seems to be the only one who can't see that marrying a still working stripper could create an issue.That business at hand is of course the path to Robin and Barney's wedding, which at this point almost has to feel rushed considering they weren't even together at the start of the season. But this is at least one development I didn't mind to see rushed since we already know how it ends up. 

I was curious as to how Bays and Thomas would handle the Barney-Robin engagement and was pleasantly surprised. I half expected a long, drawn-out courtship between the two to kill more time but instead they took a clever, short-term approach I can't completely give away. Let's just say they did a good job getting Barney to the place where he could believably settle down with Robin, without sacrificing the key narcissistic, womanizing, lying, scheming qualities that have made Barney Stinson, as played pitch-perfectly by NPH, such an entertaining character over the past eight years. While I'll never be thrilled with the pairing just out of its sheer predictability and the absurd fan devotion it inspires, they did just about as good a job as they could getting there while their backs were against the wall and the series' future time frame was still very much in the air.

The two-parter (titled "The Final Page") not only works as a welcome callback to classic HIMYM story devices like Barney's "Playbook," but also circles the show back to Ted's inability to let go of his feelings for Robin. Unlike many, I don't have a problem with that at all. That's where the story should be at this point and is in many ways the series' most realistic aspect. Why should he be over her? She's one of his best friends and has done very little overs the years to dissuade him from pursuing her, always keeping him in her back pocket as a possible romantic option in case things don't work out. And even as pathetically as Ted can come across, you almost have to admire his dedication and refusal to give up despite being trapped squarely in her "friend zone." As we know, there's only one person capable of triggering him to let go of Robin and until she shows up I'd say it's fair for the writers to go back to that well as many times as they see fit.

The finale hints he may have found one last ditch attempt to slide back into her good graces, even if it comes at the expense of his friendship with Barney. It's clear that we're definitely headed toward a major Ted-Barney battle in the final season and that feels right given that the two of them have never really sat down and hashed out this Robin situation. One of the season's more memorable images comes when Ted stares out from the window of the building he designed, seemingly a success, yet alone as his best friend proposes to the woman he's still in love with. I also appreciate that they finally gave us an update on that GNB building, Ted's teaching career and the renovation of his dream house in Westchester, all of which haven't been mentioned in what's felt like five years.
                 

Robin as her alter ego "Robin Daggers" in "P.S. I Love You"

From the description of it, you'd figure the series is an hour-long drama instead of a 30-minute situation comedy, but this season does bring some laughs to balance out the angst. Cobie Smulders has consistently proven herself to be the most improved actor of the five and it's become especially noticeable in these latter, weaker seasons. This one at least gives her the opportunity to briefly slip back into her most iconic and hilarious persona and one of the series' most satisfying long-running gags. Robin's not so secret past as Canadian pop sensation "Robin Sparkles" and the resulting flashbacks and music videos have resulted in some of the show's biggest laughs. The episode "P.S. I Love You," in which Barney unearths a Behind The Music-style documentary chronicling her career fall, features an onslaught of inside jokes and hilarious Canadian celebrity appearances (Dave Coulier!), proving the show is still at times capable of channeling its early greatness.

Unfortunately, the same can't be said for the handling of Marshall and Lily's adventures as new parents. It's always been speculated that bringing a baby onto a sitcom can be a death knell, if not a sure sign your show has "jumped the shark" While this doesn't feel like it deserves such a declaration and is more just a reflection of the general course of things, the two sure aren't given much to do this season aside from changing diapers. But that could possibly be considered a step up from the previous season, when the couple was so busy playing house on Long Island that Segel and Hannigan were absent enough to barely qualify as series regulars anymore.

Supposedly, Segel was the lone holdout in signing up for a ninth season, and with a burgeoning film career and Marshall's arc having run its course, he could hardly be blamed if he wanted out. Marshall ends the season with yet another career opportunity (this time for a judgeship) presenting itself just as Lily aspires to follow her professional dreams abroad. Despite being wasted for most of the 24 episodes, Lilly does share a couple of meaningful moments with Ted, which is a relief since their talks have been sorely missed of late. One leads to a surprisingly deep confession from her, while the other unwittingly pushes him further along in his path to meet The Mother. But as absent as Marshall and Lilly may occasionally be from the gang's booth at MacLaren's, it's at least a relief to not to see guest stars filling their seats.

If there's any improvement over the previous  year it's that guest stars are used more sparingly and we don't have a repeat of an underdeveloped character like Kal Penn's Kevin being incorporated into the group for half a season and boring us to tears. Or worse yet, nabbing a huge name like Katie Holmes, only to do little with her. Chris Elliot and Ray Wise make their respective returns as Lily and Robin's fathers, Peter Gallagher appears as Ted's former college professor, Abby Elliot has an arc as Ted's crazy girlfriend, Amber Benson finally gives a face to Barney's long-lost sister, Alexis Denisof briefly returns as Sandy Rivers, Seth Green plays a former classmate of Marshall and Lily's, Mike Tyson shows up as himself, Rachel Bilson cameos as Cindy again, Kyle Maclachlan is back as "The Captain" and Keegan-Michael Key and Casey Wilson make a memorable appearance as an obnoxious couple in the finale. This list is actually pretty conservative by HIMYM's standards. But there's really only one guest star anyone wants to talk about.

A lonely Ted looks out from inside his newly completed GNB building

It's almost surreal finally having a face and an actual name of an actress attached to The Mother. It happened. We saw her. Supposedly, Radnor was pushing very hard for the choice to be relative unknown and, to an extent, I get it. While we all had to throw away our lists of fantasy picks for the role, the fact remains that anyone who isn't complete unknown would carry with them at least some degree of baggage because the audience would already be familiar with them. And it's not hard to like the idea of us meeting and getting to know a fresh face as Ted is since we've been with him on this journey the entire time. Someone unexpectedly sweeping in out of nowhere who we've never seen before dovetails nicely into the show's theme, while giving a working actress, who may not have otherwise gotten a chance, an opportunity to break through to the next level.  You also have to consider that in this age of the internet and social media it would be nearly impossible for Bays and Thomas to plug the leaks and be able to keep anyone resembling a major name a secret from rabid fans. Oh, and they used up every possible actress already. That's the part I most have a problem with because it could have so easily been avoided.

When I first saw The Mother my immediate reaction was one of mild disappointment, the blame of which I'd put at the feet of the writers and my expectations, not Cristin Milioti, who until now was best known for her Tony nominated performance in Broadway's Once, a guest spot on 30 Rock and a big screen credit playing comedian Mike Birbiglia's sister in his 2012 low budget indie gem, Sleepwalk with Me. When she made her entrance to the strains of The Shins' "Simple Song" in the final moment of the season finale, "Something New," I didn't recognize her at all. So, mission accomplished there.  But the disappointment no doubt stems from the usual let down bound to accompany an appearance that's been built up for nearly a decade. Maybe she's just not quite how I expected Ted Mosby's wife to look. Maybe not the right height or weight. Is she not pretty enough? Or maybe she didn't speak exactly how I expected. Then I realized she's competing with nothing except our own imaginations and the unfair expectations the writers have spent the past several years burdening her with.

It probably all goes back to that infamous 100th Episode, "Girls vs. Suits," in which The Mother's then-roommate, Cindy complained to Ted how she just couldn't compete with "the girl with the yellow umbrella" and that every guy she tried to date just instantly fell in love with her. And that was it right there. If Rachel Bilson (who proved she could have handled The Mother role herself) is made to feel insecure and jealous then the idea is already planted in viewers heads to expect the unreasonable. Not helping any is Ted's notoriously high standards and the producers' penchant for stunt casting, as former dates or girlfriends played by Bilson, Holmes, Sarah Chalke, Danica McKellar, Mandy Moore, Jennifer Morrison did set the bar fairly high for the title character despite their characters' obvious faults. Are the writers trying to tell us something by foregoing the temptation to cast a big name actress or a traffic-stopping beauty, but rather a conventionally cute, average girl who seems extraordinary to Ted? I'd say so. We'll see whether the gamble pays off.

Our first glimpse of The Mother, played by Cristin Milioti

It probably would have been impossible for any actress to deliver on all our expectations in just a single moment. Luckily, Milioti will be given more time than that to fulfill those expectations, and she only has to believably fulfill them for Ted, not us. Ultimately, it wouldn't have mattered whether the actress chosen was a huge name or an unknown just as long as she's right for the role. A vocal minority of fans already think she's perfect for this and, if it's any consolation, the reaction to her casting was about ten times more positive than you'd expect given the circumstances. She isn't a disappointment. At least not yet. It just remains to be seen. And we'll apparently be seeing a lot of her as she's apparently joining the cast as a regular in the show's final season to interact with the gang before finally meeting Ted. So this isn't merely a walk-on. It's a lock that we'll be learning more about her side of the story with a whole extra season suddenly available for them to play around with.

The decision to have the final season unfold 24-style during the 56 hours leading up to Barney and Robin's wedding is a a polarizing one. Expect tons of flashbacks and flashforwards to fill in the gaps, lending even more weight to the assertions that this is the Lost of sitcoms, now thankfully minus the mystery. Truthfully, their new approach heading into the final lap couldn't have come at a better time since the main problem plaguing HIMYM over the past few years (besides simply its age) is a tired formula that's enabled Bays and Thomas to take as much time as they need to tell their story with as little forward momentum as possible. But now she's here and they don't have that crutch to lean on anymore. They were smart to finally remove it themselves, even if viewers who have somehow hung in there since the 2005 premiere had already lost patience. Having binge watched the show's previous seasons last year, that level of fatigue hasn't set in for me, but it's easy to commiserate with anyone who decided enough is enough and jumped ship.There's certainly been a nosedive in quality these past few seasons and with it comes a reminder of the kinds of creative problems sitcoms face when they overstay their welcome. But there are few other characters I'd rather have overstay that welcome than these five and most of that has to do with the talented actors who play them. Even as the material has sometimes wavered, their work in front of the camera never has.

Over the years, HIMYM has kind of evolved into comfort television. A familiar place where you can hang out with people you like going through similar problems. And that's why, despite complaints, we keep coming back. When the series concludes there's at least a possibility that it will play well as a whole, marginalizing some of the criticisms that appear to be a big deal now. Whereas the series' seventh season just felt like more filler, this one at least had flashes of the show's glory days interspersed with the mess. And out of that comes potential. The idea that the season 9 may not at all resemble the eight that came before is intriguing when you consider how stale things have gotten. A major shake-up and format change seemed necessary and Bays and Thomas should at least be commended for realizing that if they were planning to go one more season, a whole new game plan had to be implemented. Despite sometimes striking a sour note along the way, the end is finally here, and accompanying it is a feeling of cautious optimism and anticipation longtime HIMYM viewers haven't experienced in a while. The only question left is whether it's come too late.                                    

How I Met Your Mother (Season 7)

Creators: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas
Starring: Josh Radnor, Jason Segel, Cobie Smulders, Neil Patrick Harris, Alyson Hannigan
Original Airdate: 2011-2012

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

How I Met Your Mother isn't the first sitcom to have its eventual end date up in the air as it heads into the final stretch, but that fact probably provides little to comfort the writers, who you'd figure would be scrambling right now. After a near-flawless first four seasons, and two more almost as excellent, for the first time in its run, HIMYM is starting to show its age. Seven years in, that's more than understandable, and while it might be a bit harsh to say it's "jumped the shark," it's definitely treading water and the fin is visible. Perhaps I'm guilty of glossing over some of the minor issues with Seasons 5 and 6 in lieu of praising all that went right earlier, but now those creative hiccups are now starting to become a big deal. The biggest of which is a previously uneven storyline reappearing, causing logic and humor go out the window in favor of pandering to fans. It's not so much what happens or doesn't this season, but how creators Carter Bays and Craig Thomas mishandle it. Characters in situation comedies have to grow and as they do it isn't uncommon for the creative direction of the series to suffer both inevitable and avoidable growing pains, and that's never been more evident than during this season, which is easily its weakest yet. They may still get over that hump and go out strong but they've officially made some head-scratching choices before possibly getting there.

What's funny is that in interviews Bays and Thomas have both strangely cited Lost and Breaking Bad as narrative influences on how they mapped out this season, which I'd assume refers to confounding viewer expectations on how the characters' journeys will play out. Unfortunately, there isn't a surprise or risk to be found and there aren't even as many laughs as usual. And after what's at least a somewhat promising start to the season, it all comes crashing down, concluding with a disappointingly predictable and anticlimactic finale. That's not to say the season doesn't still have its moments (mainly in the first half), but that's mostly due to the five leads who could probably make a live reading of the phone book seem funny and interesting. Luckily, they have material a bit meatier than that and one actor has a career episode that's easily the highlight of these uneven 16 and should go down as one of the more emotional arcs of the series. But the show is otherwise spinning its wheels, seemingly just killing time until the clock runs out.

After losing a bet, Barney is forced to wear "The Ducky Tie"

When we last left the gang Season 6 had opened and closed with a flash-foward revealing that lovelorn, soulmate searching protagonist Ted Mosby (Joshn Radnor) finally meets The Mother of the show's title the day of a wedding sometime in the near future. Unsurprisingly, the womanizing Barney (Neil Patrick Harris) is revealed to be the groom in that season's final minutes, leaving only the question of whom his bride could be and exactly how Ted will meet the woman of his dreams. That I feel completely comfortable revealing that Barney's bride is Robin (Cobie Smulders) without even so much as an accompanying spoiler warning should give you an indication of how much of a surprise it is. Yet her identity is strangely presented as a shocking mystery almost on par with the eventual reveal of The Mother. And it's fine that it's unsurprising and even that it feels like the wrong choice creatively, but if it's the expected outcome, why present it as a big secret? So right off the bat, the entire season carries a sense of purposelessness as we know whatever relationships Barney and Robin embark on will fail so they can end up together. Season 7 is all about keeping them and Ted busy until the big wedding day, which will presumably occur at the end of the eighth season, which may be the series finale. Marshall (Jason Segel) and Lily (Alyson Hannigan) are also tied up as they prepare for the birth of their baby and try out suburban life by moving out to Long Island.

This might be the first season where these five friends don't feel like a unit. I'm sure the argument the writers would make is that as the characters get deeper into their thirties, mature and take on greater responsibilities, it's only natural that they'd grow apart somewhat. But did it have to be done in such a manufactured, uninspired way? As much as the character of Ted often catches flak as the show's weakest link, it was only after seeing him relegated to the sidelines in favor of Robin and Barney, that I came away with a new appreciation of how his quest and Radnor's self-aware performance has anchored the series up to this point.. There's hardly a yellow umbrella to be found this season, but there are two new characters serving as romantic placeholders for Robin and Barney until they rediscover their feelings for one another. The worst of whom is Robin's court appointed therapist-turned-boyfriend Kevin, who's drably played by NPH's Harold and Kumar co-star Kal Penn in what's easily the series' least successful guest starring arc. And that's being kind. Penn (usually a good actor) barely even seems present in scenes and Kevin's entire relationship with Robin is about as exciting as watching paint dry since the character isn't given a single personality trait outside of just simply being a normal, boring dependable guy who isn't Barney. But what's worse is that he's somehow indoctrinated as an honorary member of the core five and even sharing a seat with the gang at MacLaren's for what feels like the entire first half of the season.

Barney and his new stripper girlfriend Quinn (guest star Becki Newton)

Robin's relationship with Kevin is doomed from the get-go, but boy does it take a long time getting there as every humorless episode spent with this guy slowly sucks the life out of the show. Becki Newton fares slightly better as Barney's new stripper girlfriend Quinn, but it seems like a creative step back after his relationship with Nora (Nazanin Boniadi) in Season 6 explored dimensions to the character we didn't know existed. But of course she was too likable so the writers had to get rid of her, which is emblematic of the entire problem with the show right now. Bays and Thomas seem determined to go the Barney/Robin route at all costs, regardless of whether it's the right choice or not. And it may be, but they've yet to supply a reason why, especially considering their initial pairing directly resulted in a creative rough patch for the show in Season 5. They still have a season (and maybe more) to sell this relationship and come up with some funny twists and surprises but thus far it's definitely feeling like a Ross/Rachel situation from Friends. Something being done to please rabid fans who care about nothing other than the two major characters ending up together. This is how all sitcoms get into trouble toward the end of their runs, with showrunners writing for the fans instead of the characters.  NPH and Smulders obviously work extremely well together so it's no fault of theirs, but it'll be interesting to see if the characters' bond translate into any kind of romantic chemistry since that's always been lacking. Even Ted seemed to have more of a connection with her.

We already know that none of Ted's relationships will work until he meets The Mother and now we know that none of his friends' will either. The inevitability of his situation is understandable since that's the show's hook, but now we know a whole other outcome, so the writers made double work for themselves since they'll have to make the "how" of Barney and Robin's eventual union interesting too. Ted's quest to find "The One" is really pushed to the sidelines this season in favor of this as his only true story arc comes with the surprising return of one of the show's most beloved characters, ex-girlfriend Victoria (Ashley Williams). Her brief comeback in what's arguably the season's best episode, "The Ducky Tie," is a welcome one that also feels essential in moving Ted toward being ready to meet The Mother. If there's one thing all longtime viewers of the series can agree on, it's that Victoria is the closest to being a perfect match for him and that Williams has always been delightful in the role. That storyline doesn't feel manufactured, nor does Ted's desire to sort out his still lingering feelings for Robin.

There's also the payoff to an infamous Season 1 flashback as we meet the infamous "Slutty Pumpkin" character Ted fell for on Halloween in 2001 but never saw since. Short of The Mother, it's about the only major reveal the show still had up its sleeve and they definitely deliver a huge name with guest star Katie Holmes, who couldn't disappoint if she tried, despite playing a character who's supposed to be a big disappointment. The actual execution of the episode, "The Slutty Returns," feels a bit off, and becomes another example of the writers just not knowing what they have, as most sitcoms would be lucky to have Katie for a cameo, much less an entire episode. They get her for an entire episode, she does really well, and yet they still somehow make it seem inconsequential. It also begs the question that with all the guest stars who have lined up to date Ted Mosby, are there any suitable actresses even left to play the show's title character?

Guest star Katie Holmes as "The Slutty Pumpkin"

Having already exhausted Sarah Chalke, Mandy Moore, Danica McKellar, Rachel Bilson, Jennifer Morrison and more in extended guest arcs, it seems as if they've burned through every satisfying Mother candidate possible, in addition to setting the bar really high. And now after crossing Katie Holmes off the list of potential candidates, you have to wonder who can measure up to Ted's (and viewers') now impossibly high expectations. Of course, that's working under the assumption fans still care who the The Mother is, or even did to begin with. Some don't, which is understandable. The show really isn't "about" that anyway and you certainly couldn't blame Ted's future kids for not caring anymore after listening to their father ramble on for hours about all the women he slept with before meeting their mom. But I'd counter that to argue the eventual reveal is more important now than it ever was considering Bays and Thomas seem to have given everything else away. There may be few other surprises left, but as ridiculous as the wait's been, it's still the one major series-long story arc they haven't botched. Of course, all that could change when she's introduced, as the pressure shifts from the writers to whomever is given the honor (burden?) of playing the coveted role. If one thing's certain it's that this definitely wouldn't be the time for the big name stunt casting they've been so fond of throughout the series' run. Contrary to popular opinion, the best approach would be to save her for the end and get it over with quickly, as to avoid the potential prolonged disappointment of seeing their relationship not play out to expectations. Assuming they cast the right actress and the writing's strong enough to support her, there's no reason it can't be done effectively in the last episode.
            
Given Jason Segel's rapidly increasing film commitments over the past year or so, it comes as little surprise that Marshall and Lily see a a bit less face time this season, although I definitely wasn't expecting them to be displaced from the group altogether. The show's always been at its weakest when the writers try to "spin off" one or more of the characters and introduce different settings. It's fairly obvious early on that the Eriksens in the suburbs just isn't going to take so the whole storyline becomes a matter of sitting through a bunch of plot contrivances and forced humor until the characters realize it. In a way, this is a compliment since these five actors work so well together that having two of them suddenly take leave for a while it becomes crippling. Luckily, this is realized by the end of the season, but not until we've had to sit through the clumsy housewarming episode, "The Burning Beekeeper," which plays with time and location to tell what feels like a complicated, extended joke lacking a punchline. There's also so much of guest star Chris Elliot as Lily's selfish, board game creator dad Mickey that he may as well have been bumped up to a series regular. He's funny in small doses, but the character gets grating after a while, especially since we know the redemptive arc that usually accompanies each of his appearances.

Episode 7.15 ("The Burning Beekeeper")

With Marshall finally leaving the GNB boardroom behind to pursue his dream of practicing environmental law, guest star Martin Short comes aboard as his new boss, the kooky Garrison Cootes. But as strange as it seems, I actually miss Marshall dealing with the corporate drudgery associated with his old job, as that contrast often resulted in some really great moments. Who can forget his encounters with "Artillery" Arthur (Bob Odenkirk), his visits to Barney's office, or him walking out of the company bathroom with a magazine and a giant grin on his face as his co-workers looked on in disgust. The brilliant sixth season episode "Natural History" expertly foreshadowed Marshall's eventual change in career direction, but as is often the case in sitcoms, once a character actually gets what they want, things can suddenly become a lot less interesting. In fact, there's such a lack of work-related scenes this season for everyone you'd be forgiven for assuming they're all unemployed. This is especially true for Ted, who hasn't had a workplace scenes in about two years. Is he still teaching architecture?  What about that GNB building he's designing? This may seem like nit-picking, but seemingly minor stuff like this really helps flesh out the show's universe, giving the series a season-to-season consistency and providing viewers with a greater long-term investment in its characters.

The less said about the messy two-part finale, "The Magician's Code," the better. Besides featuring the birth of Baby Marvin "Waitforit" Eriksen and an eventually pointless proposal, they squander all the goodwill Victoria brought at the season's start by bringing her back under circumstances so ill-conceived I almost mistook it for a dream sequence. It pains me to say Season 7 is the series' most uneven yet because even with all its flaws it's still more enjoyable than just about any sitcom on the air and I wouldn't dare consider jumping ship before it reaches its conclusion, whenever that may be. Better news is that it's still capable of producing surprises and laughs with emotional episodes like "Symphony of Illumination," which shockingly delivers the news that Robin can't have children and features Cobie Smulders' all-time best performance. At this point it seems most of the notes the show is hitting have been dramatic rather than comedic, which is expected as everything starts to wrap up. What's even more certain is that HIMYM needs to end soon.

Robin receives shocking news in "Symphony of Illumination"

It's understandable CBS wants to squeeze every last dime out of a show still producing tremendous ratings this late in the game and go nine seasons, but creatively that decision is suicide. The current eighth season should be its last, if not for fans, than for the five enormously talented actors who have carried the show for almost a decade, and deserve opportunities to move on and test the water with different projects (especially Radnor and Smulders, who've spent their entire careers on it). We're rapidly approaching the point where the series will wear out its welcome, so here's hoping this increased sense of urgency will inspire Bays and Thomas to step up and pull out all the stops. If there's any consolation, it's that some of TV's finest finales weren't originally conceived as such, with their writers having to make split decisions under the gun, as the possibility of another season still hanged in the air until literally the last second. They say they're going ahead and writing the eighth as if its last and this year's flash-forward heavy premiere certainly confirms that tactic. We now know exactly the "when" and "where" of Ted meeting The Mother. All that's left is the "how" and the "who." And seeing how everything else ties into it. Will the show continue after that? I hope not. But here's hoping they can get there without any more filler and the series can be given the send-off it truly deserves.