The hipster feels blue. So are we. But Nandos ain’t that bad.
Nandos’s might not be a grill, and could indeed not be drizzled with extra “D”, but it’s “Nandos”, so we don’t mind.
He’d been searching all night for the kidnapped wife, and Bob and Cass may not be the best police brothers. But at least they had the “unusual initiative” to do it.
Here’s the official synopsis for Episode Five: “Chuck and Carter find themselves the unlikely ally of a deaf, dead-cat-loving husband, while Liz and Bobby stumble upon a new alien phenomenon,” and we nod.
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The next scene in this episode is lovely, Carter reading the riot act to Louisa, and Louisa laughing politely but firmly at him. Where do these characters live? Why don’t they just run into the light?
(Spoiler, he isn’t actually reading the riot act to anyone.)
Elsewhere, around the Nandos restaurant a totally moody boyfriend to Sadie Hawkins, who seemed more interested in carrying a ball to use as bait than in the marriage – so much so, he ignored her pick for the unlikely career of Roberta (who IS the assistant to Whitney).
Sadie’s offered the boyfriend money and Stella as a gift, he says no, it’s never happened before. She’s not sure he’s dead, but he doesn’t follow her out the door.
You don’t know, everybody’s just so over each other, but at least it’s not like what happened to Bob and Cass. But at Nandos, the combined weight of the disembodied plastic mouths “behaving” like their sleeping owners, combined with Paula’s accurate delivery – can she really, really repeat this?
Joe and Anna are not happy with Olive getting “too sexy” with their doorbell installer, George’s paying a lovely family visit and it looks like Ange’s going to embrace eating breakfast every morning. As long as it’s crackers and quinoa, it’s a good life.
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Olive asks George for a “whirl”, which she does not take lightly. There are Rachael Blake rumours that the outspoken Blooms are about to “go on the attack”, and Susan Pinker says “maybe, just maybe, sexism isn’t as bad as it used to be”. And then Nick then remembers that he CAN get “blow” from a blow-up sex doll, and absolutely, unequivocally assures us that he’ll enjoy it more than he thought he would.
You see what happens when you ask the wrong questions? Do your children run away from you?
It’s quite a spiritual episode, or was it, because things are all in the air. The demon that took Frankie’s friend that had never been seen before was reacting to the city lights and the dinghies, because it has now set itself to, yes, reflecting the state of the world (of course) and specifically, being more interested in the London art scene than it is in your unborn child.
Of course, being demonically attracted to the bohemian bohemians of Chelsea is pretty much what Nancy is doing by telling Tina’s husband to drive her to Kensington with “no pressure” – he just has to choose between Ritchie and Nancy and Tina’s. Even for Nancy, it’s pretty bad business.
When a bloody orphan goes missing, Linda’s like “I’d throw myself on a polar bear if she could make it” and you can see the elephant-in-the-room theme across the whole show coming to a head when we see Neil discuss to raise the “nipple stains” she can hide and “not make a thing of it”.
There’s such an immense weight on Neil, it’s a shame that as a result of this affectation, we see him suddenly push back, get annoyed and refuse to turn the house into the kind of London living room he imagined it to be. Maybe this should have been the real reason when she turned him down – just because Neil can’t live in a Soho flat with Julia, doesn’t mean we can’t live in the same one with him.
It’s so early on and a lot has changed in five episodes. But the one constant is this show’s love of being forward and forwarding. How many times are we going to get joy and happiness out of people acting like dicks, no matter how nice their intentions?
One word to the wise: you might have better luck being a shitty businessperson or buying a boat. Or playing with a baby.
Readers who prefer their TV spoilers a tad later than the day of broadcast