I'm up, I'm up. I think it's just about nine o'clock and yet it's just about eight o'clock.
I watched last week's Alias, masochist that I am - awful, horrible, terrible, completely out to lunch, out to sea, and out of ideas. It's pathetic that whenever they completely don't know what to do, they just turn to Arvin Sloane - he's bad, he's good, he's bad, he's good, he's bad, he's good. WHO CARES?
One used to think there was some grand plan to this show (most TV series are never picked up without some kind of bible for the first three seasons), but after season one it's completely clear that there wasn't. So, they just went by the skin of our teeth, and sort of got away with it in season two. Season three was worse, and down it went. When Miss Garner announced her pregnancy she should have been replaced immediately or the show should have been canceled. They are, in essence, replacing her anyway (in the action scenes), and I hate to say it, but the reason people watched Alias in the first place had a lot to do with her outfits and wigs and her action scenes. As an actress, she's a one trick pony, and as a pregnant Sydney Bristow, she has taken this show down in flames.