Actually, I just watched the first three eps; plenty of laugh tracks throughout. (Though I seem to recall that Sorkin was forced into it by the network.)
Then I’m sorry.
For that simply never happened.
And you’ll never convince him otherwise.
I remember taking issue with Beverly’s contention that diseases are traditionally named after their first identified sufferers. I can think of plenty of diseases that were instead named for the doctor or doctors who first described them. I would like to think that she was so embarrassed at her fuck-up that she passed the naming off to Barclay.
You guys really need to get your hearing checked.
"Just Shoot Me’ was such a piss poor show I know they could not never done the Donnie epsiode.
CHicken pot, chicken pot, chicken pot PPPPPIIIIIIEEEE.
What I appreciate about The Prisoner is that not only was there not a 17th episode, but that the 16th wrapped things up so well*. I credit the fact that they didn’t let McGooHam write the finale – George Markstein and David Tomblin came through with their usual brilliant plotting and dialog.
- (while still leaving enough intrigue for the feature film** that followed)
**(But… That Would Be Telling…)
What?
I disagree that “Just Shoot Me” was piss poor–just average. That being said, that particular episode (if I may use a sports comparison) was like a baseball player who never hits more than a .285 average and 20 home runs per season suddenly hitting .360 with 55 home runs for one year before returning to his normal offensive numbers the following season.
The final episode of Dollhouse (aired tonight). It was completely unnecessary; the series actually ended just before the “Ten years later” title in the previous one.
You really need your hearing checked!!!
I’m glad they never had a BSG episode with, say, a John Hodgeman cameo, because that would just be lame for everyone involved. I’m also glad Phillip Pullman quit when he was ahead, because The Golden Compass was a great book and I’d hate to see that awesome female protagonist turn into a fawning glorified penis-cozy in subsequent books the same way that, say, Stephen King never wrapped up It.