Liz gazes up and widens her eyes as Max, finally playing his age for the first time in three long years, gazes down from high above. I love that wardrobe's shorthand for his character having aged fifty years is "give him a cashmere scarf." No matter. Liz begins laughing maniacally and turning over on the grass, promising Clayton Maxicott III, "You're not here. You're a dream." Max leans down over her, and Liz sits up and voices the collective consciousness of a whole generation's feelings toward Jason Behr: "You have to go away." Get in line, woman. The rest of us have been screaming that out since Rites of Passage. And then she sits up in a hurry and grabs his arm, which returns her instantly to the same interstellar flashback footage that's informed her spiritual connection to Max since the pilot. Cosmos. Black spacey sky. Liz on a playground, playing, playing, playing. Liz looks at not-quite-Max. She's pleased. She falls into his arms, crying and repeating, "Oh, my God. Max." Jason Behr's consistently perplexed stare is reaching fever pitches of brow-furrowing fun. It's like he's foreign. I feel for some reason as if he's going to open his mouth and speak the words "thank you for your erotic affections, mysterious beautiful lady" in an Apu voice. I have absolutely no idea why I think that. I just do.
Episode Report CardDjb: C- | 684 USERS: B-
YOU GRADE IT