OK, I have had it up to here with The Nine. (For all you know, I could be pointing to my kneecap.) I want this show to survive. I love some of the characters — Nick, Kathryn, Jeremy, and oddly enough, co-bank robber Lucas (Owain Yeoman, pictured) — and I admire the premise (people survive a mysterious hostage situation; we find out what happens gradually). I just didn’t know it would be this gradual. We’re four episodes in, and the flashbacks, compelling as they are, have only addressed maybe the first 15 minutes of the 52-hour holding.
The show seems to be an endless series of pauses, with more emphasis on sideways glances and silent suffering than actual dialogue and plot development. Sometimes it works — epsecially during the group scenes at the diner. I see The Nine moping around their respective lives all day and want to shout “Do something! Say something! Deal!” but when they all get together, the silence is so tense and uncertain it ends up being powerful. And powerfully uncomfortable to watch. I felt so weird spying on them that I ended up focusing on what everyone had ordered. Kim Raver really dug into that giant sandwich! I was so proud.
Burning questions this week:
- Why did Lucas know Lizzie was pregnant before Jeremy?
- Now that we know Randall spent time in jail with Eva’s husband Carlos, does that make Eva or Franny any more suspicious?
- How brutal would it be to come home to your awesome single-dude apartment and see EGAN FOOTE sweating on the front step?
- A yoga mat? Really?
Still tuning in?