The song continues. Pickup truck. Oliver Hudson sort of smirkily drives down the street. He takes off his sunglasses. He makes a left turn. He's got his dirt bike in the back. Fade up on "Boundary Mountain," which has to be the worst name for a mountain possible. I'd be more likely to ski at "Hidden Cliffs Mountain" or "Rusty Chairlift Mountain." At least they wouldn't be boring. House at Boundary Mountain. I have to mention, as Keckler pointed out on the forums, that the "Boundary Mountain" logo looks like it was traced straight off a Patagonia label. Assholes. Anson Mount stares broodily. Okay, he's kind of cute, but whatever. Large bird sitting in tree. Large bird flies away. Barbara Hershey inside the house.
Okay, I hate to interrupt my momentum there. Because that little sequence proves that the montage is a recapper's dream, no matter if it's the worst montage ever. And speaking of which, that's a category we can retire now. I mean, seriously, there was no shot in that sequence that was remotely necessary or informative. But that's not what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is the unrecognizable woman on my screen at the moment. To give you an idea, I'll ask you a riddle: What do Barbara Hershey and Greta van Susteren have in common? Er...that's kind of the joke. If you need to ask, I can't help you. No, seriously, Barbara Hershey is even more unrecognizable than Greta post-work, and that's saying a lot. In fact, she's not even Barbara Hershey. She's "Barbara Hershey." Okay. "Barbara Hershey" looks down at the coffee table, upon which lies a copy of the global paper we saw earlier and a videotape with a printed label that says "Last Will And Testament." Aside from mentioning that it sometimes helps to have the name of the deceased on the will, I'll tell you that I could produce a more professional-looking label with a label-maker I bought from J&R Music World for twenty bucks back in 2000. Well played, props department. Well played. In three-quarter speed, which is a hopelessly amateurish device that this show relies on A LOT, Oliver Hudson appears at the large window and knocks on it. "Barbara Hershey" runs out to greet him. She opens the door, and they embrace. Lovingly. In three-quarter speed.
"Last Will And Testament." Okay, this is a direct quote from the ostensible grandfather: "Funny thing about death. It comes along at the most inconvenient time." How insightful! How world-weary! How...retarded! Seriously, what does that even mean? Nothing. Much like everything else on this show. And the grandfather's played by Chad Everett, who certainly has enough credits on his CV that he should have stayed away from this dreck of a script. The grandfather tells "Barbara Hershey," whose character's name is "Gennie," that he knows they had their differences, but that he did the best he could and that he loves her. "Barbara Hershey" looks like she'd cry, if, you know, she still could. He next tells "Shelley," who's the snowboarding blonde from before, "Your mother could have given me a hundred granddaughters, and none of them could have made me any prouder than you." Well, that's a line that's not bizarre in any way. I mean, a hundred granddaughters? "Barbara Hershey" is feeling phantom labor pains just at the thought. Grandpa adds that watching her train is reason enough to get up in the mornings, as opposed to being hale and hearty (as Chad Everett clearly is) and rich isn't any reason at all. Next on the list is Anson Mount, "Will," who apparently "learned the ropes and fought like a good soldier. You turned Boundary into a world-class resort." Oy, there's that name again. And speaking of names, "Anson Mount"? Is there a side career in porn we don't know about? Grandpa then tells Oliver Hudson, who's Grandpa's namesake, that he was always a pain in the ass, forging his own path, just like him. Oliver Hudson manages to turn his sneering smirk into a watery, sniffly smirk. That's acting. Grandfather: "You're not going to like this." I didn't need a video will to tell me that, Pops. He leaves his "controlling shares" to David. "Turn the damn thing off." Would that I could, Pops. Would that I could.