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Yes, you thought this site consisted solely of recaps of Mad Men
nowadays. Well, surprise. We also review shows that are a little bit like Mad Men.
This is going to be great. I always loved how darkly surreal it was, and the guy who was like a reverse midget in a dream or something. Even just listening to the theme tune again brings back memories.
You can imagine the pitch meeting for Masters Of Sex: "It's like Mad Men
– but with boobs!" Whilst it's not an entirely inaccurate description – there's lots of attractive people in fabulous period costumes, smoking, slow-burning plots aplenty and, yes, boobs (not to mention a never-ending parade of other body parts, both male and female) – it's very much its own show. For a start, at no point in Mad Men does anyone brandish a dildo called Ulysses, although Don could probably do one hell of an ad campaign for it.
You've got it all here: Eddie Marsan's threatening sideways lean, Jon Voight's insouciant turn askance, Liev Schrieber's straightahead hands-in-pockets furrowed look, Pooch Hall's lean with added gangsta hands, and Dash Mihok's unaccountable leg-spreading. There's not a male character archetype in the entire acting gamut that isn't covered by one of these stances. (I managed five episodes.)
Season three, episode three: Carol and Castor are in front of a board showing the network schedule, arguing about whether Matt LeBlanc's "Pucks" should get cancelled. In the 8.30 timeslot is a show called "Six of One", which is the title under which the Friends pilot was shot. And I thought this was going to be a quiet Saturday.
What exactly is Masters of Sex about? I attempted to work it out from the opening credits.
One: say it's 'something meets something else', which always goes down well.
Two: realise you need to be a much more successful website than you actually are in order to achieve this, so just Photoshop the quote in yourself and hope no one asks any probing questions.
I think there's probably some big thing coming whereby Saul's the mole, or a secret North Korean agent or something, and that's why he's so conflicted. But this is wholly insignificant when compared with the discovery I've just made: that you can literally swap Saul around with any other bearded man and it makes no difference whatsoever.
According to the internet, every series finale is either the greatest thing in recorded history or the worst thing ever visited on the commenter's eyes, undoing all the good work that came before it. Consensus on Dexter's swansong seems to be the latter. But I'm here to tell you that finales aren't as important as all that, and that this one, while flawed, was better than everyone seems to think. And you should take note, because like everyone else's on the internet, my opinion matters gravely. (Spoilers follow.)
My relationship with Dexter is much like that of the protagonist with his girlfriend in the Smokey Robinson song "You've Really Got a Hold on Me". She mistreats him constantly, but he keeps coming back for more without really knowing why. I watch Dexter every week, cringing at various aspects of the writing, then look forward to the next episode. I'm an idiot.