I need to confess something to you, my judges and jury: I am watching Beauty and the Beast (on Hulu, and how it happened is a long story, but still — somehow that feels relevant), and I don’t hate it. I might even like it. Turns out the romantic lead is actually meant to be a “beast” in the Hulk Smash sense (there is a whole story line about fugue states, a phrase I haven’t written since Passions, and WHY IS THAT?). But the reason I am watching is, it turns out, that a) it’s an ode to great leather jackets, boots, and skinny jeans, and b) I like Kristin Kreuk. She’s very charming to me, and her HAIR is HYPNOTIC. It’s so shiny and fantastic. There are aspects that don’t work, like some of the murder-of-the-week stuff, but other parts are surprisingly okay. So I guess I’m in, you guys. I know. But I had to come clean. And I don’t regret my choices.
But does she regret hers?
She should. There is a very pretty germ of a dress here that blew up into a massive killer virus. The design results in it looking not only poorly made, but improperly fitted. I think the beast sewed it during one of his animal fugue states, where he had some war flashbacks and then did something violent but altruistic. Seriously, I wish we could move some people from Passions onto this show — imagine if Precious the orangutan nurse was tasked with tending to Beast Vincent during his episodes, and then had love fantasies about him like she did with Luis, or if they occasionally cut to Tabitha staring into her magic bowl and making snarky comments about their life choices, and then Big Dumb Hank — who is ALSO a cop, and was Captain Awesome on Chuck — could dribble a basketball shirtless through three scenes an hour. Perfection.
I suppose I should stop daydreaming and show you the back:
I mean, that fabric is just bad. It looks like her prosthetic back is melting.