How can you not love Frank the Investigator? As played by journeyman character actor Max Martini — who, according to his IMDB page, should be familiar to anyone who has watched any television in the last decade — Frank radiates terse calm, ninja badassery, and pure military discipline. He’s not too different from Emily. They’re both trespassing in a society where they don’t really belong. They both keep secrets. They’re surrounded by leisure, but they can never stop working. There’s an undercurrent of barely-restrained passion between Frank and Queen Victoria — it’s unclear if they have a past or a future — and you certainly can’t blame Victoria for her roving eye. Sure, she’s married to a multi-billionaire who can buy her a luxury automobile just because. But Frank looks like a man who could punch a bear in the face and then wear its skin as a sweater.
On last night’s episode, we got some inkling that Frank is more than just a blunt instrument for the Graysons. He admitted to Victoria that Conrad’s jet never left the hangar. Then, he showed her a transfer receipt for ten million dollars, “From Conrad’s account in the Caymans to Lydia.” Victoria really didn’t have time for this. For one thing, every event she’s hosted this summer has ended scandalously. For another thing, her son was off the wagon.
She was right in the middle of chastising a hungover Daniel when Conrad strolled back into the house, fake-yawning from his fake-trip to San Fake-cisco. “It’s gonna take an act of God to resuscitate the market!” he exclaimed. Like a father from a ’50s sitcom, he tried to solve all the house’s problems in one swoop. He told his son, “It’s clear your summer could use some structure,” which meant it was time for a punishment internship at the family business. Tyler chimed in, noting that his internship for the summer had actually fallen through. “Well, once again, Stern Investments’ loss is Grayson Global’s gain!” said Conrad.
King Grayson was feeling pretty satisfied about solving everyone’s problems, and he asked his wife how she let everything fall to pieces during his fake business trip. “I had my hands full,” said Victoria, biting down on a venomous strawberry. “Perhaps you can tell me where your hands have been.”
Speaking of Lydia! Next door, at the House of Vengeance, Emily received an unexpected visit from her house’s former owner. This was not the Lydia of yesteryear, sheepishly departing the Hamptons after her public shaming and skulking around the shadows of Manhattan doing her best Andy Serkis impression. This was a new, proud Lydia. She wanted her damn house back. And she wasn’t going to let “a nosy troublemaker with a penchant for turning my world upside-down” stop her. She swore to find out Emily’s dark secret. “We all have our South Fork Inn,” she said, referring to the local Adultery Hotel, “And I just made it my mission to find yours.” Only five episodes in, and Revenge is already tweaking its basic structure: This week, the poor sap on the business end of the Sniper Scope of Convoluted Vengeance…was Emily Thorne.
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