The postponed CSI season-finale double-episode Quentin bloody Tarantino spectacular-whammy thingie review

Simply don’t read this if you haven’t seen the CSI Tarantino season finale and want to – because I will ruin it for you. Also, I’d pretty much advise against reading it if you have no interest in CSI at all. Because you’ll find it very, very dull.

I really really do intend to put something up about the Tarantino CSI-fest last night before it becomes completely obsolete and no one cares any more. I think it’s only fair, as I was so boring about wanting to watch it last week.

However, I was far too tired last night, far too sleepy this morning and far too, you know, ‘at work’ for the rest of the day. For most of the evening I will now be far too at the theatre to write it, but then I’ll be at home, and might actually write it. Unless I’m far too in bed.

Update: Much, much, much later

Well, I’m sitting here, and I’m trying to think of a way of doing this that doesn’t ruin it for anyone who hasn’t seen it. And then again, I’m thinking, HAHA, I’ve seen it, who cares?

I want to have a serious analysis of the events of the show, but I really don’t want to give any plot away, if I can help it. So let’s see if we can walk a fine line between the two.

Well, it was really scary when Nick was in a glass coffin, but I was really glad when he got out.

Oopses. Fine line. Tried to walk it, clearly can’t. Soz.

I was so into it.

First I was so looking forward to it, and then I was so into it. Apart from the first fifteen minutes or so. And the last fifteen. But the bit in the middle? Loved that. Or most of it. Apart from some things.

The bits that I loved:

– It was so tense. My beloved walked in just after the man blowed up, and I was sitting here, transfixed, staring at the television, immovable, with my mouth wide open.

– The lip reading. It was sentimental, moving, yet not mawkish.

– The whole ‘their watching him and trying to comfort him was actually killing him’ thing. Yes, very good.

– Quite a lot of it. The majority, in fact.

Things I didn’t like.

– Gil Grissom. I didn’t think Tarantino got him right. He was strange, too bouncy for the most part. I love Grissom. I just don’t think he was well served by Tarantino in this case. I don’t think the script played to his character, or to the actor. The things he said, the way he said them, they just didn’t seem Grissomy.

– The uber uber Tarantinosity of certain bits. The friend T put it well. I would expect him to, being a TV journalist who writes about TV in a TV magazine. And a Transvestite. Possibly. He said:

His pop culture references, outside of his own canon where they fit right in, are less of a trademark and more of a burden on the film/programme he’s contributed to. Take Crimson Tide.

In a relatively early exchange two sailors, wound up by the tense atmosphere in the submarine, end up having a fight about the Silver Surfer.

Now, fine, maybe so, but when you know Quentin’s done some script fiddling, it’s all a bit much.

So. Back to the excellent Greg and that other chap who does lab stuff and used to be in The Larry Sanders Show. They’re playing a Dukes of Hazzard game. Fascinating, althought it did allow for a bit of character exposition, which reaffirmed what we thought anyway. That lab bloke is a geek.

Then, to follow it up with Warwick and Nick talking at length about some dust up that involved a fat guy who looked like Wimpy from Popeye, was screaming, “IN CASE YOU DIDN’T KNOW, I, QUENTIN TARANTINO, WROTE AND DIRECTED THIS EPISODE.” You half expected them to start twisting, a la Pulp Fiction. On a positive note, it was nice to see how uncomfortable Nick bloke was in acting that scene. He hadn’t a clue what to do.

It was true. Half the time they may as well have been trying to Eat Quentin Tarantino the amount of trouble they were having getting their mouths around his clever clever “look at me I’m Quentin bloody Tarantino” lines. And he’s a meaty chap. You wouldn’t want to eat him and try and talk at the same time.

– The whole reasoning behind it. Just because your daughter had gone from horticulturalist to whore to a cellblock hood-rat (?) would you plan a hilariously over-elaborate revenge plan to kill just any random CSI, killing several dogs and wasting a large bag of cash in the process? Would you? Have you, in fact? Let us know.

– Little details. Niggly things. Does Grissom the entymologist really need a book to identify a fire ant, all of a sudden? If the weight differential of taking Nick out of the coffin was going to cause it to explode, would not the differential of taking all that earth off the top of the coffin make a difference? what about when all those people stood on the coffin? How was that not making any difference at all?

And was the coffin only made of glass because Nick would have blending in seemlessly if it too was made of wood? Seriously. I’ve never seen a face more expressionless. And I see dead people.

– I loved it. I really loved it, honest I did. This is just what I do to things that I watch. This is why some people don’t really enjoy watching plays/films/television with me. Because I don’t really watch things in the same way that they do. and they don’t really want to talk about it this much afterwards. They just like, you know, watching things. Oddly enough, we went to see a play this evening about critics getting murdered by an actor to whom they’d all given bad reviews.

I really did love it, though. Not as much as I thought I would, and not as much as I wanted to, but I did.

And I swear at one point someone called an actress by her actual name rather than the character’s name (Catherine’s dad. I would stake my kidney on the fact that he called her ‘Marg’ or ‘Margy’ at one point. No one else agrees with me though). And, generally, yeah. Loved it.

Sorry, I’ve written this whole thing once already, lost it somewhere in the depths of technology, have rewritten it all, and am now desperately trying to remember which incredible point of incredible spontaneous wit I topped this bit off. Whatever it was, it was very, very funny. It was a long time ago, and I’m now very tired. Insert something funny here. A ha ha ha ha ha.

In a little nubbin:

I really liked it, it had flashes of enormous brilliance, but found it to be just *too* Tarantino at several points. Also, I’m absolutely sure I spotted an enormous goof.

What did you think of it?