shows they end up hating- or just hating themselves for kinda liking - Jordasch has decided to tackle HBO'sEntourage, simultaneously the most satisfying and infuriating show on the network. Because reviewing the show is a largely fruitless effort at this point, he's decided simply to explain it, character by character.
Drama: Johnny still doesn't like the idea of his star vehicle being animated, but E's hot British assistant manages to get him to come around by being hot and British. CBS dude even agrees to take another meeting with Johnny, but Johnny, on the advice of hot British chick, decides to take the show even before the meeting. The more and more I think about Johnny's Bananas, the more ridiculous it seems that a show like this would ever be successful except in the world of, say, Entourage.
But I did enjoy the stuff about how Johnny initially rejected the idea because he thought he was being made fun of. The arc here actually nicely portrays a past-his-prime actor coming to terms with the fact that this may be his last shot at fame, even if it's not in the form he expected. It's a refreshingly real(ish) storyline for a show that takes pleasure in stacking contrived plotline on top of contrived plotline until it becomes all but inevitable that the whole stupid house of cards is going to tumble and hopefully catch fire and not get renewed by HBO.
Turtle: Take Turtle's story, for example: Hot chick's (now) angry uncle (Miguel Sandoval) doesn't like Turtle messing with his family tequila business - because apparently the show needs this character to be angry at Turtle for some reason - and so uncle guy is especially pissed when Turtle tries to bring some football player into the deal. Then the football player, who was ready to shell out $5 million to fund the tequila company, gets equally pissed at the uncle and threatens to buy the company outright.
Of course because uncle guy is an experienced businessman, it's completely plausible that he would fly off the handle and put himself in danger of losing the company he loves, which his good-for-nothing brother actually owns the majority stake in. The show can't seem to decide whether hot chick's uncle is a reasonable businessman or the psycho racial stereotype Turtle suspected him to be. They're going with the latter this week, though, because Turtle is short and fat and can never succeed at anything.
Vince: As is usually the case, I still don't give a shit about what is happening with Vince this week. Sasha Grey - a PORN star, in case you didn't know - still wants to make her gangbang movie, and Vince still doesn't want her to make it because he's in love with her. Gasp.
Vince's uncharacteristic sentimentality/clinginess has been a running theme on Entourage since the character got all stalker-y with Mandy Moore all the way back in season 2. And yes, I have spent an embarrassing amount of time watching this show. But again, Adrian Grenier is such an abominable actor that we can never really tell what's going through his head. He does flippant pretty well, but he continues to prove himself incapable of much else.
Apparently Vince is supposed to be wrestling with both his feelings for Sasha Grey and his mounting drug addiction following his brush with death (!) early in the season. But even the stupid makeup department isn't doing its job because I couldn't see anything wrong with the guy, even when somebody tells him that he "looks terrible." Jeez, Entourage, you can't make the writing staff do all the work. They're fucking stupid.
Ari: Ari's story was perhaps the most frustrating this week because, once again, it was actually interesting. The Ari storylines show that Entourage's writers are capable of much more, but they're just too lazy to extend quality storytelling to the whole show.
This time, Ari delivers an impassioned diatribe against Amanda Daniels in the middle of the restaurant before she can tell him that she was interested in bringing him back in to the NFL deal. Jeremy Piven, too talented to rely on narrowed eyes and quivering lips, lets all the color drain from his face and, once again, makes me pissed off he isn't on a better show. Maybe in an alternate universe, he could have played a rival agency head on Mad Men. But now he'll just be Ari Gold for the rest of his career. Wonderful.
But even this plotline was sullied by Entourage's staunch refusal to make any fucking sense. Because why in the hell would Amanda Daniels have any reason to bring a man she despises into the biggest deal of both of their careers? We also found out this week that Amanda didn't actually leak the tapes. Her assistant actually had the bone to pick and leaked them without her permission. So it was actually one big ruse on Amanda's part to, uh... um... do nothing? I take it back. The Ari plotlines are frustrating because they're a part of Entourage, a series of ads for a revolving cast of actors and products cleverly disguised as a half-hour sitcom.
That sound you hear, in case you're wondering, is a collapsing, burning, "I can't believe there's one more season left" house of cards.