It Really Is Impossible To Please Me, Isn't It?
I am accused, on the regular, of being a hater, and of spending all of my time complaining about things and of not complimenting good things when they happen. And, to be honest, my first reaction is all, "Well, I WOULD compliment good things IF THEY EVER HAPPENED", which is I guess not the way to respond to accusations of bitterness, but my SECOND reaction is pointing out that I do actually like a lot of things. It's true! This weekend alone, I have spilled much ink on the delightfulness of Justin Timberlake, 17 Again and Lois Lowry (she wrote the Anastasia books AND Number the Stars AND The Giver. How can one human being be so awesome?!) and, okay, none of those are soap-related, sure, but I do actually like a lot of soap-related things! I do!
Like, for example, Jesse and Angie Hubbard. I LOVE them. I get excited when I see their names on my DVR's episode description. Hubbardy episodes go a long way in making the rest of the show somewhat palatable. Darnell Williams and Debbi Morgan are the kind of actors who elevate their material; when the writing is crap, they somehow make it work, and when the writing is good, they hit it out of the park.
Frankie being injured in an ambush has given them the chance to just...be stellar. I don't think that's overstating it.
This should make me happy, right? Awesome actors being given the chance to shine, and Beth Ehlers and JR Martinez being given a chance to get in on the awesomeness, and Denise Vasi...being pretty.
But NO. The critics are right: I AM bitter. Because I spent those scenes alternately impressed and then irritated at them. Like, why do they have to be so good?! They are making it that much harder for me to quit this show!