When I've had a satisfying experience with a show-runner's prior work, I try to give his or her new stuff at least three episodes to win me over. This is Cupid's fourth. And I can tell it's just not going to work between us. I would say it's time we said good-bye. I mean, we shared a very special hour together, and that's something I will always cherish. I'll never forget you guys, but I'm with you, Show, 'til the bitter end (either at ABC or TWoP) and then I'm pretty sure I will forget you. Damn. I prefer the graceful break-up. My husband Scott really, really, really didn't want to watch this episode, and he's usually happy to cater to my TV-watching whims. Since I didn't want to punish him, I waited until he went to bed, and then cursed him for sleeping while I was burning the (post)-midnight oil. And after an arduous 20 minutes of watching and note-taking, I fell sound asleep on the couch and didn't wake until my kids did, this morning. Thanks for the good night's rest, Rob. At least we'll always have that.
Nighttime In New York: Claire's got Trevor on the cell phone and is scolding him for slipping a mixtape in her bag. Trevor corrects that it's a mix CD, and I guess we're supposed to "enjoy" the "banter" or something. She tells him it's inappropriate for him to call her unless it's regarding his mental health. I wonder why she doesn't have an answering service like every other doctor in the world, but not as much as I wonder why he calls her at all. Whether or not he's Cupid (and therefore delusional) Cannavale's Trevor is fun, sweet, and adorable. Paulson's Claire is a cold fish. And you smell like one too. I know she's supposed to be. But there's nothing engaging about this Claire. When she's supposed to be vulnerable, it just comes across as needy. When she's supposed to be strong and rational, it comes off as snide and superior. I like Paulson. Heck, I even liked her in the ridiculous Studio 60, but her Claire leaves me wishing I could change the channel.
But well, let's get to the story, anyhow. Claire wants a clear picture of who Trevor is and where he came from in order to help him, so Trevor says, "I'm Cupid. I'm from Olympus." He then says he feels badly about how their sessions have been going and he hopes the CD will give her some insight into what's going on in his head. Claire's arrived at her apartment now. She notices the door is ajar, which would scare me to death -- particularly if I was a famous Love Shrink/author living in the Big Apple. But Claire has few feelings, at least none that we've seen, so she goes right in. The place has been ransacked. She says, "Oh my God. I've been robbed," and then hangs up.