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SIlent Witness: The Prodigal, Part 2

The last time I'll go on about Silent Witness until... well, probably sometime after the next series has aired, if I'm honest, if they do it in January again then that's terrifyingly close to finals and I ought not to watch television that mostly makes me cross.

The following review is unlikely to contain much about the plot, which was mostly quite stupidly dull. I didn't see the end coming, but that didn't make up for the almost two hours that went before it.

First, I don't think that the Prodigal Son means what Harry thinks it means.

I'll say right up front that Emilia Fox is hysterically obviously pregnant in this one, particularly in one really badly timed profile shot as she leaned past the Dutch protection officer.

Evidently, I was wrong about Jack's parentage. I thought that there had been an incest thing going on and that the Dutch ambassador had been his father as well as his grandfather, but it turned out that that was an honest slip of the tongue and had to do with it having happened before.

I didn't pay a great deal of attention to the rest of it, except for when Harry found Jack. I have a few things to say about that. The first is to point out Harry's Magical Disappearing PTSD -- nodding at it in Part 1 and then having it be miraculously cured in Part 2 is more bloody annoying than if it had never been brought up in the first place, but I think this is kind of synonymous with Nikki's Magical Disappearing Depression. Nevertheless, Harry should not be that okay with being stuck in what I can only imagine was a lift shaft with someone who's pointing a Glock at him. It was weird how he said that he was, "well, kind of a doctor," -- until this week, when not only that part but also the being generally a bit rubbish with the actual victims, Harry has been shown to be a highly competent doctor who happened to specialise in dead people, or do we not remember the craniostomy with the mobile phone and the Swiss Army knife and the power of prayer? Hell, he's meant to have been running around delivering babies last week. I found it unaccountably hilarious that the police refused to tell BBC News how they had found Jack, because you kind of have to assume that that was at least partly because it sounds really really stupid if you say it out loud: "Er, the Home Office pathologist found him and they bonded over Opal Fruits."

And not for nothing, but the Home Office pathologist who wasn't even supposed to be touching this case with a barge pole. So, being taken off the case is really more of a symbolic thing in their universe?

That brings me onto the irritating nitwit of a pathologist, who, as it turned out, wasn't even any good at pretending not to be dodgy. It may well have not been directly relevant to the case, but it's a bit weird when the pathologist just doesn't give a crap about glaring anomalies in the body that they're examining. ICDs are the kind of pacemaker that has an inbuilt difibrillator, if you cared. Also, perfect waistcoat and shirt and tie and pocketwatch chain and a pair of jeans. I can hear Ianto Jones rolling over in his grave.

The point of how they edited together the trailer was that we would assume that Harry was giving serious consideration to James's job offer, I know that. But all I could think was that Harry doesn't strike me as the type to want a secretary or an expense account, that he would interpret work when you want as work approximately thirty hours a day, and... well, maybe the BMW. And then we handwaved away the problems of their funding being cut terribly quickly, which was a shame, as I'd have quite liked to see Leo and Harry go toe to toe with the university, ready to save their department or die trying. You know, if they want to cut costs then they might start by getting shot of the hideously unnecessary sound effects from their smartboard.

And now, I squee:

- "You should be getting the MBE, not me."

- Leo's line was not as sweet in reality than it was in the trailer, although it is nice how he clearly thinks that Harry is the most amazing thing ever.

- I can live with Nikki when she's being an enabler, when she goes around delivering lines like, "he thinks you're irreplaceable" and coupling them with significant looks. I realise that SW fandom is interpreting that significant look quite differently, but... It's like the episode where Leo met Janet, and she asked if Leo and Harry were together without sounding the least bit skeptical or sarcastic or surprised. I don't mind her nearly so much when she's doing things like that.

-"But you considered it?" / "Sometimes, that's the only way to appreciate -- " [long pause] " -- what you already have."

- GOD, THE EPILOGUE. I have not invited my life partner to this quite momentous event and, now that you come to mention it, the BBC have not seen fit to make it clear whether we're still together after that epic meltdown we had the other week. Harry, how about we have a picture of you and me and my MBE. Look, we can snuggle. And then let's stroll down Birdcage Walk with our arms around each other. Have I told you lately that you're irreplaceable?


Feb. 3rd, 2011 09:38 pm (UTC)
The writers' attitude to Janet has been pissing me off for the whole series. I like Janet, she is smart and capable and always seemed not to put up with any crap and they made sense, sort of, if you leave aside the part where she is actually far too good for Leo. So. If they're going to be together, they should be allowed to be together and not just get hauled out for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference so that we know she's still alive and/or when they want to create relationship drama out of Leo's dearly departed wife and daughter. If they're not going to be together, then they should be not together and be done the courtesy of an actual breakup.

Harry and Leo were... okay, you may have heard the high-pitched squeeing from 461 miles away. You know, a bit. I had to watch the last scene twice, though. I was caught off-guard by the adorable, because the first time round I was too busy going, "Er, did you forget Janet? Did the Queen kidnap her? Is she not going to be a little pissed that you didn't invite her to this? I would be pissed!" I am also still a bit nonplussed by there having been an entire plot revolving around her being justifiably irritated that he had buggered off to Yorkshire without bothering to mention it to her, to be followed by him buggering off to Budapest without any evidence that he bothered to mention that to her.

Yeah, my This Entire Series Has Done Janet A Huge Disservice rant has been building for quite some time.

I really don't think you can leave me to be cross about this on my own..

Fair warning that any commentary is likely to be reduced to texts or Tweets that say things like, "grrrr" and "arrrrgh" and "WTF?" and, very occasionally, "aw".
It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up, something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing, and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house and now live over a quarry of noise and dust cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own.,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records.

Since there is no place large enough to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you into everything you touch. You are not responsible.

You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it, and in that way, be known.

- Naomi Shihab Nye

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