New York: Miss Juliet has been sent to Miami to get herself together, because that's not a party town, at all. At any rate, this frees up Bridget's time, and oh brother, does sister ever need it. She is trying to trace the nigh untraceable, disposable phone of her dead hit man. She's also getting threatening calls from the spooky guy who walked into Martin/Charles Financial's cocktail party last week just as Bridget was retrieving the phone from her dead hit man and shutting it off. In a bit of fast thinking, she uses Agent Machado to scare off her caller, at least for now.
Bridget also suspects Andrew wanted Siobhan dead, because when she sees a picture of Siobhan and Andrew on Andrew's desk, she recognizes the shot of Siobhan. It's the same one the now dead hit man had in his pocket, only his copy had Andrew cropped out. Additionally, she finds the business card of a high profile divorce attorney, tucked in Siobhan's datebook. She goes to see the lawyer and tries to tease out what Siobhan told him at their last meeting. Whatever Siobhan said, it made the attorney suspect that Andrew was physically abusive. The lawyer also has the deed to a Pratt Street property, and tells her he thinks it indicates Andrew has been trying to cheat her out of some money. I suspect that's because Martin/Charles Financial is about as fair dealing as Bernie Madoff, but I'll save whys and wherefores for the full weecap. Gemma and Henry's finances figure prominently.
Paris: Siobhan, using the pseudonym Cora, picks up a non-French speaking American in a Paris bar, and takes him back to her place for a little something something. But just as things are getting hot and heavy, she gives him the boot, because she has to... boot. Looks like those pregnancy hormones are kicking in for our evil twin. Her almost boy-toy, by the way, works for Martin/Charles, so I don't think Shiv's impure motives were pure, if you know what I mean.
Wyoming: Macawi and his goons have grabbed Malcolm. They torture this poor, pretty man for the whole hour, trying to get information about Bridget out of him, but Malcolm's aim is true. It's so true that even when they threaten to shoot him full of the drugs he worked so hard to get off of, he never gives her up. In the end, they do shoot him up, despite his cries and pleas.
Back in New York, Bridget and Andrew have a heart to heart about trust. And sheeeesh. When are these two going to hit the sheets?
And in Paris, Shiv takes what might be the world's largest pregnancy test, and then calls Henry. She never speaks, but her face speaks volumes. Of course Henry can't see it. But that's okay. We don't like him, anyhow.
I'll be back with the full weecap, tomorrow. In the meantime, please grade the episode at the top of the page and then join us in the show thread, but don't get any ideas about our daddy's money. M'kay?
I was talking to my friend Heather, yesterday. I've known Heather online for ten years, anyhow. We met thanks to the Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom. She works and occasionally writes for another media outlet, but since I didn't clear this with her first, I won't out her, completely. Anyhow, we were checking in to see if we both still like Ringer. Heather said, "I still like it, but I told you where its baseline is for me."
I don't know that Heather and I have had an in-depth talk about Ringer since the premiere, but I've known her a long time, and we consume a lot of the same media, so I could guess: "Two Buffies, no waiting. Pretty clothes. Pretty men. Soapy soapy soap." Our mutual Buffy-friend Theresa is of the same mindset, and we all love Sarah Michelle Gellar (SMG) in this role. From checking in here and there around the web, that all seems to be the key to enjoying this show. I don't mean you have to have watched or been a fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to enjoy Ringer. My mother is watching and enjoying it, too (hi, mum). But you have to have a place in your heart and mind that enjoys TV junk food. And SMG? She is the savory MSG on our Tuesday night snack. And unlike actual MSG, she never gives me hives or migraines. (Man, I miss Chinese food and Cool Ranch Doritos, although not together, because that would be gross.)
If Ringer really goes all out in the soapy soapy soap direction, it might make something of itself. Right now, while it's still establishing itself, it sometimes seems like it might want us to take it seriously. We can't do that, Show, because you're telling us a story about an ex-stripper/recovering-addict twin, on the run from the law and the lawless, who has assumed the other twin's life, in part because the second twin never told anyone in her circle (including her own husband) that she has a twin. You have la Gellar, who not only gives good hair, makeup and wardrobe -- she excels at angst and boo-boo faces, and she has enviable comic timing and delivery. Exploit the heck out of it all, play it over-the-top, and I think you could become a hit by CW standards. I wish this was a CBS nighttime soap with a CBS nighttime soap budget, but it is what it is. The sun is shining in your little CW corner of the world, Show, so go make some hay. Meanwhile, I'll get to my weecap.
The show opens almost the same this week as it did last week. I did not have time to re-watch last week's opening, but I am pretty sure there are two notable changes. This week, a Bridget voice-over still introduces Siobhan's people: "Her husband. Her lover. Her best friend." But this week, instead of adding, "her step-daughter," we get a shot of Malcolm and the voice-over tells us he's the only man she can trust, a line that will resonate throughout the episode. Also this week, the writers are CHEATING. And hey, I'm not going all Kathy Bates in Misery. These sort of shenanigans are the cherry atop the froth on my guilty pleasure TV sundae. You see this week, the opening ends with that shot of Siobhan, sitting in her Paris digs and getting the phone call. You know the one. But, unlike in the pilot, where the male caller simply tells Shiv, "We've got a problem," this time he says, "We've got a problem. Bridget's still alive." Wheeeeeeeeeeeee.