Smallville
Noir

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The Big Snooze

Chloe informs Jimmy that "dame" is not so flattering. Tell that to Edna and Judi Dench. We watch the movie. "What's your name?" Martha Vickers as Carmen asks Humphrey Bogart's Philip Marlowe. He says it's "Doghouse Reilly." She says that's a funny name and asks if he's a prize fighter. No, he says, he's a shamus. Jimmy, creepily, is mouthing all the dialogue, even that of the Carmen character. We cut back and forth from the screen to Jimmy's mouth to Chloe looking at him and not running for the door. Carmen asks, "What's a shamus?" It's a private detective. Jimmy stops his one-man drama club to say that they don't make them like they used to. Do you mean TV shows? This one in particular? Carmen falls into Marlowe's arms. Chloe asks if he means movies or people. Jimmy turns to her. They kiss. Something interrupts them. Maybe the sound mix on my TV station's broadcast was bad, but I didn't hear anything. The closed captioning says, "[Gunshot]." Jimmy and Chloe both turn to the screen and figure out that the sound (the one I didn't hear) wasn't from the movie. They both rush out of the room as the movie keeps playing. As they run into the newsroom, someone in dark clothing is darting up the stairs. Instead of pursuing, Jimmy whips out his flip phone and takes a grainy-ass crap cell phone picture. You could have called security with that phone, you know. Chloe calls Jimmy over. An elevator door keeps trying to close, but it's blocked by the leg of a woman in a green dress with silver high heels. They open the elevator door. A gun lies next to Lana Lang. She's in a dark green dress and her left shoulder has been shot. A pool of blood is next to her. The gunshot wound on her front isn't pouring out blood, and it just looks weird. She's unconscious. Maybe she's taking a big sleep. Chloe and Jimmy don't scream or freak out. Boy, they're more jaded than me.

Opening credits! These will soon change. Enjoy them while they last. Commercials. Music and Lyrics. Are waterbeds punchlines now? Does that make it funny that I slept on one all through high school?

Forget establishing shots! We're back at The Daily Planet. Lana is being taken out on a stretcher with the bullet wound having magically moved to her right shoulder. At least I hope that's what they're trying to staunch with that gauze on her right. It's all right that they made such a major gaffe since apparently nobody saw this episode. Clark hurries into the room and makes his way down the stairs past a bunch of people just standing around. So an attempted murder happens in a private building and they just let anyone off the street come in? Come on. The building would be in total lockdown right now. A police officer stops Clark. Clark asks if Lana's going to be all right. Chloe is already there to pull him away. She says that Lana is hurt pretty badly. Jimmy takes pictures. He gets shots of the medical team with Lana's stretcher. Papa Luthor, wearing a tuxedo, is there. He whispers to Lana that he's sorry he got her caught up in all this. She's still unconscious. "I'll find whoever did this. I'll find them," he says. He notices Jimmy taking photos in the background. Jimmy lowers his camera as Papa Luthor gives him a dirty look. Oh, whatever, dude. It's a newsroom. In fact, where are all the other staff photographers? And reporters? Editors? Printing press workers? Interns? Web staff? Papa walks past Jimmy and gives him another look. Jimmy takes a shot of Lana's scattered items on the floor. There's a compact and a silver cigarette case. Lex makes his way down the stairs, and nobody even bothers to ask for a quote. He asks Papa Luthor where he can find Lana. Papa says she's being medevac'd to Smallville to see her specialist. You mean they'd rather see a specialist in a tiny town than one in Metropolis? Contrivance! Lex is mad and says that Papa was with her at the opera. Papa Luthor fires back that Lex didn't even show up and that he dropped Lana off afterward at her car an hour ago. "You'd better hope she's all right," Lex says desperately. They exchange mean looks. Worst father-son three-legged race ever!

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