The Lost Picture Show

Episode Report Card
Demian: F | Grade It Now!
The One Where Demian Loses His Mind. Again.

Manor Sun Porch. Sam paces the floor, grumbling about how long Raige has been gone, as J.D. groans and mumbles himself into something approaching consciousness. Sam anguishes when he realizes how much pain his charge is in at the moment, and eventually allows his Whitelightery empathy to get the better of him as he instructs J.D. to close his eyes. Sam then reluctantly applies the special healing tingly touch, J.D.'s wounds promptly vanish, and oh, crap. J.D.'s one of those future Whitelighters who know nothing about the magical world for some idiotic reason, and Sam's not about to spill any relevant details, so this is going to suck. J.D. pulls himself into sitting position on the love seat and, at Sam's prompting, relates what he can remember of what are, from J.D.'s time-addled perspective, recent events. J.D. was at a drive-in watching -- wait for it -- Rebel Without A Cause, and when he headed over to the concession stand to buy a Coke, "some creep scared the hell out of [him], took a flash photo," and "blinded [him]." The next thing J.D. knew, he was "inside somewhere," and that's all we get out of J.D. for now, because Diper and the Polt have chosen this moment to return to the Manor with The Retarded Bimbo. Sam orders J.D. to remain on the sun porch and ambles into the main hall in time to hear the bickering marrieds piss and moan at each other about the body swap before they vanish upstairs, leaving Sam alone with The Retard. There follows a pointless scene in which The Retard tries to charge Sam her regular babysitting fee while Sam goes off in search of Raige, or whatever, and it only ends when J.D. slouches against the doorframe to smoove, "Hey, baby, what's shaking?" And it only ends there because my brain exploded at the anachronous slang pouring from the greaseball's mouth and by the time I'd recovered, the camera had already scuttled over to...

...Agent Murphy's office, where he and Raige flip silently through various files until Sam orbs unannounced into the room. Murphy's predictably surprised at Sam's sudden appearance, but as we've seen the exact same sort of shock from the non-magical on this program God knows how many times in the past, let's skip ahead to the point where Raige connects the pertinent detail of J.D.'s mysteriously menacing shutterbug to one of Murphy's missing persons cases. "Wasn't one of the last victims seen with a photographer?" she realizes. Murphy wiggles his eyebrows around, and the next thing we know, the three are exiting the building onto the sidewalk outside, and fucking hell. They filmed this bit at the "Columbia" "University" fa├žade on the backlot, which they already used this season as a low-rise police station, so the building must have magically sprouted another forty goddamned stories at some point in the last month to give Murphy that stunning view he's got through his office windows. GOD! This show SUCKS. ANY-way, as the three wordlessly book off down the street, the camera dances between them to get all up in Vaklav's face. Vaklav glowers for a moment, then slides off-screen to follow them into the next commercial break.

Manor Sun Porch, and Jesus Christ. The scene that follows basically involves The Retarded Bimbo failing to convince J.D. that it's still 1955, but it's so gratingly stupid in reaching that point, that it's practically impossible to recap. Examples: He wonders where the rabbit ears are on the TV; she doesn't know what antennas are. He uses the word "boss," in the sense of "Dude, that is quite the boss car you and your equally attractive brother own"; no one used that word that way in 1955. ["THANK you. I came in at this point in the episode, heard him say 'boss,' and assumed he was from 1984. Fucking show." -- Sars] He lights a filtered Chesterfield, she condescends about cancer, and he doesn't know what she's talking about; people have been calling cigarettes "coffin nails" since the 1880s. His cigarette, lit for all of thirty seconds, sets off the smoke detector; cigarettes do not, in fact, trigger those things. It goes on and on and on like that and it doesn't end until he sits on the damn remote and the death metal it sparks up on the TV sends him fleeing into the side garden through one of the sun porch doors. Awful. Just awful. The Retard screams for backup from the bickering marrieds above, but ends up chasing after J.D. alone. Scene. Foul, wretched, wicked, evil, and utterly useless scene.

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