The Again With This podcast that accompanies these Visual Aids already got you The Club.
What was the direction Michael Durrell got here -- "wistful"? "curious"? "snarkily eager for Felice to catch them at it and snob-clock the shit out of the situation"?
Follow the bouncing boom! ...Like, all of it. You can even see the shaft. ...Ew, "shaft."
Nothing says "hoping to bone your burnt lady at the holidays" like an Escherian set of hair whorls.
Classic Christmas baby.
Classic '90s brow-and-lip story. Pretty sure this is why our esteemed colleague Danny Drennan referred to Clare as "Rocky Horror" in his wrap-ups.
It's a massive-pants contest! And, since it's presided over by Brandon's customary crappy attitude, everyone loses.
It's nice that Donna and LuAnn can be bad-outfit buddies. (We don't totally hate LuAnn's fringed number, though.)
Is that maybe, possibly a flicker of shame on Felice's face? Or merely faint annoyance that she's getting called out on her shady plan?
Cigarette AND pack, LuAnn? It's called "your back pocket," darlin'. Put the spares away.
Might want to budget part of that 10K for a trip to Lenscrafters, Ray.
This FBI B-roll is so old, we can almost understand the snotty J. Edgar Hoover crack from Dylan that follows.
...Almost. Thing is, you don't get to shit on anyone for wearing "party dresses" when you show up at a federal law-enforcement office on Christmas Eve dressed for honky-tonk prom.
This Hey, It's That Gal! is impressed enough to call her supervisor, though.
It's understandable that Cobb thinks that he and Rex together might deter Dylan from braying at him to surrender Christine.
Unfortunately, he is incorrect. Dylan is such a butt in these scenes, his jean jacket is actively unraveling in an attempt to escape.
"If you say so, Pettit -- but I'm leaving Rex with you just in case and don't bother arguing with me."
More Steve cuteness.
Next time you want to zoom in on a lady character who's Taking! It! Personally!, color inside the lipliner. Just a suggestion.
Maybe Felice should spend a little less time worrying about who her daughter dates, and a little more making sure she's not dressed like the box art of a Catholic-schoolgirl porno to go to midnight mass.
Donna cry-face three-pack: "The Rotten Egg Breaks."
Donna cry-face eight-pack: "Grounded For Two Weeks For Cutting Sister's Bangs, Has To Miss Skating Party."
Same, Kel.
Because the solution to failing to bother with realistic burn make-up for Kelly's back is obviously to go so tight on Brandon that we think we're watching that episode of Talk Soup that took place entirely inside John Henson's nostril. Zoom out, motherfucker, people are eating.
I can't help thinking Donna's fury might carry more authority if she hadn't paired a navel-covering sweater with that cocktail napkin.
Kinda feels a little late to get judgy with her, no? After she cheated on you, and that whole contretemps with the superintendent?
Enter Jonesy. Did you know Wings Hauser played four different roles on various Murder, She Wrotes?
Whenever a beam of Luke Perry breaks through the Dylan cloud cover, it's delightful -- like his horrified gulp at the prospect of splitting his recovered millions with Jonesy.
And of course his rarely seen teeth when he bobbles Hannah. Aw.
Too many Santas spoil the...actually, this episode was spoiled before it even started.
