Woman of the Hour

Director: Anna Kendrick
Starring: Anna Kendrick, Daniel Zovatto, Tony Hale, Nicolette Robinson, Pete Holmes, Autumn Best, Kathryn Gallagher, Kelley Jakle, Matt Visser, Jedidiah Goodacre
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Zodiac meets Promising Young Woman and Late Night with the Devil in Anna Kendrick's directorial debut, Woman of the Hour, a gripping dramatization of a true crime case almost too impossibly bizarre to believe. While the basic details are out there, accompanying ones remain a bit of a mystery, making this an ideal story for deeper exploration. What most know is that in 1978 a serial killer appeared on TV's The Dating Game, but it turns out this frightening fact only scratches the surface, eventually revealing as much about the era's cultural attitudes as it does the perpetrator himself. 

If not for actual existing footage, it's easy to imagine this being written off as some kind of urban legend. Was he still committing murders at the time? Couldn't someone watching the show identify him? Did he win? Was there a date? What happened on it? Since many of those questions have gone publicly unanswered, Kendrick is afforded the opportunity to squeeze considerable suspense from real events. She and writer Ian McDonald fascinatingly suggest the killer is both everyone and no one, unexceptional enough to easily slip through the cracks. Lots of alarms should have gone off, but back then, the onus fell on women to be careful and nice, no matter how deadly the situation. 

It's 1978 Los Angeles and aspiring actress Cheryl Bradshaw (Kendrick) is striking out on auditions when she gets a call from her agent about potentially going on The Dating Game. Banking that this valuable exposure in front of a national television audience could result in a big break, Cheryl's excited but nervously skeptical, despite encouragement from irritating friend and neighbor Terry (Pete Holmes). 

On the day of the taping, Cheryl's prepped backstage before appearing on camera to question her mystery suitors, including "Bachelor #3," Rodney Alcala (Daniel Zovatto), a long haired photographer from Texas. But what Cheryl, producers and even the authorities don't know is that he's a prolific serial killer whose ongoing murders date back to the early seventies. 

Jumping between the episode and Rodney's brutal homicides, a portrait is painted of a violent psychopath in the vein of Ted Bundy or Ed Gein. But on the show he charms the studio audience and Cheryl, raising the likelihood she could actually end up picking this guy as her date. That is unless someone can come forward and connect him to these crimes.

Kendrick inventively uses the show as a framing device by surrounding it with flashbacks and flashforwards of Rodney targeting random young women. And while unconfirmed reports put his victim count at over a hundred, it stands to reason he encountered others who lived to see another day. Because of this, these scenes carry even more weight since we're unclear whether anyone survives until they fully play out. Some of his murders take place years before he appears on the show, while others, including an extremely pivotal one, occurs after. As a result, the film's structure and timeline becomes crucial in tracing the trajectory that lands him on stage with Cheryl.

The quiet, withdrawn Rodney methodically entraps his victims, making small talk and showering them with compliments before eventually convincing them to pose for him. And his photography becomes a major theme, tying into the natural human instinct to feel and be noticed, a vulnerability he preys on before the world sees those tactics in action on TV.  

The full scope of Rodney's depravity is displayed in the film's haunting desert opening while  photographing a woman named Sarah (Kelley Jakle) who opens up to him about a painful breakup. Zovatto's performance is scary in how he plays Rodney as weirdly off, but initially harmless until his tone, facial expressions and body language betray that, exposing his true intentions. Unfortunately, by then, it's too late. He earns their trust before going in for the kill, attempting to repeat this pattern with flight attendant Charlie (Kathryn Gallagher) and most memorably, young runaway Amy (Autumn Best). 

The constant misogyny and sexism Cheryl deals with is really what leads her to appear on a show so clearly beneath her, even as she comes to it well-armed from those terrible experiences. Whether being grilled about nudity on an audition or guilted into succumbing to her annoying neighbor's advances. Kendrick doesn't overplay her hand, presenting Cheryl's plight as business as usual for the period, trusting audiences to reach their own conclusions. 

Instructed by the show's pompous host Ed Burke (a brilliant Tony Hale channeling Richard Dawson) to just smile, laugh and look pretty so she doesn't seem smarter than the bachelors, Cheryl flips the script to take the upper hand. Much to his and the bachelors' chagrin, she milks those 15 minutes of fame by simply being authentic, even as two of the three suitors prove awful in different ways. Only one is sharp enough to keep up with her. And it's a shame who that is. 

Kendrick's quick, snappy, matter-of-factness has rarely been utilized as well on screen, as she plays Cheryl in a constant state of self awareness. She has no false illusions about this program's quality and what it could do for her career, bringing that same level-headed pragmatism to the eventual encounter with Rodney. There's also great unsung work from Nicollette Robinson as a woman with a past connection to him who's paralyzed by fear and judgment from others. How her character's mistreated and dismissed by the men around her goes a long way in explaining how Rodney not only evaded capture for years, but was cast on widely popular television show without a second thought.

The last thirty minutes (and particularly one parking lot scene) are terrifyingly tension filled, threatening just how bad things can possibly get. Since Kendrick spends much of the film establishing Rodney's M.O., it's only that much more impactful when he's finally thrown off course and needs to improvise. After meeting his match in a woman who knows how to turn the tables, she reads and manipulates him well enough to deserve a criminal psychology degree. And we believe it, mainly because these serial killers always have traumatic baggage to be exploited, but only if their potential victims can somehow stay alive long enough to find the trigger. 

As a director, Kendrick visually and thematically links the game show to these murders, all while delivering a lead performance equally effective in conveying that. Smart, shrewd and extremely lucky compared to the other women, Cheryl can't see herself as any of this when falsely defined by the superficial, condescending terms society ascribes to her. What starts as a last ditch effort to be "seen" on a program that's spawned hundreds like it instead reflects a systemic malignancy still resonating to this day. It all provides chilling context for a TV episode now very much remembered, though not for reasons anyone had originally intended.  

Hocus Pocus 2

Director: Anne Fletcher
Starring: Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker, Kathy Najimy, Sam Richardson, Doug Jones, Whitney Peak, Belissa Escobedo, Lilia Buckingham, Tony Hale, Hannah Waddingham, Taylor Paige Henderson, Juju Brener, Nina Kitchen, Froylan Gutierrez
Running Time: 103 min.
Rating: PG 

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Disney's eagerly anticipated nostalgia fix, Hocus Pocus 2, comes out on the higher end of audience expectations, successfully picking up where the '93 original left off. Those who loved it will probably enjoy this, unless the first film stands as such an impeachable childhood classic for fans that rose-colored glasses prevent them from embracing any sequel. And that's not a criticism since everyone has those favorite titles on which their formative movie experiences and memories were built. Having only seen the original a few years ago, this isn't that for me,  but as far as sequels go, it's a silly, inoffensive no-brainer, with the biggest surprise being that it took this long. So even if some viewers find it doesn't match their lofty expectations, many others are likely to still be delighted with what director Anne Fletcher cooks up. 

It turns out the screenplay does contain some inspired ideas that move the story forward while playing proper respect to a beloved property. The fun, cheeky tone remains, as the returning leads don't miss a beat slipping back into their familiar roles nearly thirty years later. While it's kind of perplexing more wasn't done to reunite the entire supporting cast, it is a new entry and the three actresses that matter most are back. And they do a good enough job establishing the new characters by effectively just throwing them into the mix, showing rather than telling. Still, there's no mistaking who this is all really about, as it should be.  

It's 1653 when a young Winifred Sanderson (Taylor Paige Henderson) is banished from Salem by Reverend Traske (Tony Hale), escaping into the woods with sisters Mary (Nina Kitchen) and Sarah (Juju Brenner). While there, they meet the Mother Witch (Hannah Waddingham), who gives Winnie a magic book, teaching them to kill other children to retain their youthfulness, but warning against ever casting the dreaded Magicae Maxima spell, which could carry disastrous consequences.

Flash forward to 2022 and Salem teens Becca (Whitney Peak) and Izzy (Belissa Escobedo) turn down a Halloween party invitation from estranged friend Cassie Traske (Lilia Buckingham), opting instead to celebrate on their own. After a stop at Gilbert's (Sam Richardson) magic shop, they leave with a Black Flame Candle, unintentionally resurrecting the Sanderson sisters, back after twenty nine years to wreck havoc on Salem. This time, Winnie (Bette Midler), Sarah (Sarah Jessica Parker) and Mary (Kathy Najimy) set their sights on Mayor Traske and Cassie, planing to cast that forbidden spell to take revenge for their mistreatment. Now it's up to the three high schoolers to stop them before it's too late.

There's a seamlessness to the story that's very much in the vein of the original, almost to a fault, as if a committee gathered and cherry-picked all the key elements from the last film and updated them. Of course, this time we all know the kind of material they're dealing with so there's a certain sense of discovery missing that can't be completely replicated. It's also not actually shot in Salem this time around, giving the surroundings a slightly different feel that's reminiscent of those popular 2000's Disney Channel movies, which isn't terrible considering the original was essentially a precursor to those anyway. And clocking in a few minutes longer, it does seem slightly less compact than its predecessor, which flowed a little better.  

At the time, no one knew the first movie would be talked about and quoted decades later, only gaining popularity through the years with subsequent viewings. But realizing this sequel is more of a calculatedly self-aware attempt at recapturing that magic makes everything go down easier. Not that there isn't already plenty to enjoy, as Midler, Parker and Najimy remain as delightfully over-the-top and campy as possible as the Sandersons. Midler's role as the singing, self-absorbed Winnie is arguably iconic at this point, Parker's great as the flaky, airheaded Sarah, and Najimy again nails it as comedic suck-up Mary. An impromptu Walgreens outing and a Halloween costume contest rank as the most entertaining sequences, enabling the sisters to really lean into all the hijinx. 

The supporting cast is gamely along for the ride, with Whitney Peak making Becca a sympathetic protagonist and her friendship with Escobedo's quirky Izzy and Buckingham's newly popular Cassie organically complimenting the bond between the Sandersons. And while Tony Hale and Sam Richardson provide some laughs along with a returning Doug Jones as zombie Billy Butcherson, Taylor Henderson shines brightest as young Winnie. In the opening sequence she so uncannily channels a junior Bette Midler that you actually start hoping that this film will be entirely focused on her, or at least function as an extended preview for one that would.  

Some may not like the idea that the wicked sisters have supposedly been "softened," to an extent, but this is Disney, and while their characters have sometimes gone in surprising directions for a family release, it would be silly to claim we were ever expected to take them too seriously as "villains." They're goofy, comedic antagonists with a mean streak whose worst antics usually resulted in laughs. The sequel exists because fans love the Sandersons so its ending should best be viewed as the filmmakers finally acknowledging this fact, informally granting us permission to root for them.

Hocus Pocus 2 kind of neatly wrap things up in a bow with more of a message than the original, but even that feels more earned than cheap given what came before. The opening prologue is sure to be cited as one of the film's bigger highlights, and it is, though the rest isn't too bad either, making this a worthwhile follow-up for the diehards without excluding anyone else from the fun. For a sequel that may have taken a while to arrive, it's at least smart enough to stay clear of unnecessarily trying to fix what wasn't broken.                 

Being the Ricardos

Director: Aaron Sorkin
Starring: Nicole Kidman, Javier Bardem, J.K. Simmons, Nina Arianda, Tony Hale, Alia Shawkat, Jake Lacy, Clark Gregg, Christopher Denham, John Rubinstein, Linda Lavin, Ronny Cox
Running Time: 131 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Writer/director Aaron Sorkin's Being the Ricardos poses the question of how much an actor or actress's physical resemblance to an iconic public figure affects our perception of their performance. Even while conceding there's a lot more to acting than mimicry and imitation, Nicole Kidman's casting as Lucille Ball does push the envelope in terms of how points should be scored for embodying a person the performer looks or acts nothing like. It's been a discussion point since the first trailer, or maybe back further to when Cate Blanchett unexpectedly dropped out of the project. On paper, she was perfect for the role in every way, but things happen, and is often the case, another big name stepped in, causing many to question whether Kidman would be the right fit.

It's a credit to Kidman and Sorkin that the actress somehow makes it work, as well as the rest of the cast who who are frequently given more intriguing material than you'd expect. It's all very inside TV, providing glimpses into the pressures and challenges facing the first juggernaut sitcom of the medium's infancy. When Sorkin's focusing entirely on this, the film's at its best, which isn't to say that Lucy and Desi's tumultuous marriage holds no interest. As both personal and business partners, the two sub-plots are frequently intertwined, with Sorkin taking some creative license in jamming all the troubles facing the show and its star into one fateful week. That Kidman's casting has become such a point of debate is ironic considering she's playing a woman who was constantly told by studio executives she "just wasn't right" for the part, forcing Lucy to take matters into her own hands before experiencing true success. It then became a constant battle to hold on to it, consuming the comedy legend from the inside out as she hid her biggest fears and insecurities from the world.

Mostly taking place within one chaotic week of rehearsals and preparation for a 1953 live filming of I Love Lucy, Lucy (Kidman) must deal with tabloid rumors of Desi's (Javier Bardem) infidelity and a newspaper article declaring her a Communist, despite being cleared of the allegation in a HUAC hearing months earlier. On top of that, the couple are also attempting to convince CBS and sponsor Philip Morris to write Lucy's pregnancy into the show, which isn't just unheard of for television at the time, but downright scandalous considering their married characters aren't allowed to even sleep in the same bed. 

As Lucy's marital and creative frustrations begin boiling over, she clashes with writer/producer and show runner Jess Oppenheimer (Tony Hale) and new director Donald Glass (Christopher Denham) over certain scenes, while also taking the writing team of Bob Carroll (Jake Lacy) and Madelyn Pugh (Alia Shawkat) to task over the dumbing down of her character. Before long, even co-stars William Frawley (J.K. Simmons) and Vivian Vance's (Nina Arianda) patience starts to wear thin when it comes to Lucy's obsessive perfectionism. The root of that is revealed through flashbacks when the young RKO-contracted actress met Cuban band leader and actor Desi Arnaz, while "interviews" with an older Oppenheimer (John Rubenstein), Pugh (Linda Lavin) and Carroll (Ronny Cox) frame the events leading up to that week's memorable live show.

It may seem odd that Lucille Ball's life is upstaged by the more compelling backstage machinations and ego clashes that go into creating a television sitcom, until you remember how big this show was and who's making the film. If the knock against Sorkin has always been that he's a far better writer than director, of the three projects he's helmed, this could be the most practical example yet of the theory. While adequately directed, it's still a writer's movie through and through and there's probably no one better equipped to believably bringing a TV writing room to life than him. Unsurprisingly, these are the scenes that really click, detailing the battles Lucy wages over the show's content, as dictated by the network, but trickling down to producer Oppenheimer and his writers. In a way, they're all casualties of their own enormous success, as a sitcom that brings in a staggering 60 million viewers is a reliable cash cow that won't be given much leeway from the network to experiment, potentially compromising its creative direction.

Sorkin's fly-on-the-wall approach is appreciated, especially in regards to the nuts and bolts of what makes comedy scenes work. Since I Love Lucy is a classic remembered for pioneering an entire genre, there's an existing perception of flawlessness, at least by the time it made air. He demystifies that, recognizing that any show is rife with issues, while giving credit to Lucy for taking the initiative to correct and tweak every one, whether or not the staff agrees. And most of the time she's completely right about everything, even as her aggressive, frequently insensitive approach alienates rather than inspires. It's an uphill battle for Lucy that Desi couldn't possibly understand as a man capable of smooth talking his way out of any predicament, occasionally losing his temper, but ultimately getting everything he wants in the end. That Desi often commands more respect as a producer than Lucy is a cruel turn considering she was the one who strong armed the network into hiring him as her co-star.

Bardem captures all these contradictions so well, dispelling preconceptions that Desi wasn't a talented performer in his own right.  His performance is such that it doesn't come off as if he's outright controlling Lucy, but subtly gaslighting her in way that fills the actress with self-doubt, thinking that nothing's ever good enough in this continuous quest to "keep" him. The smoothest of players, he even offsets his infidelity with what seems like a tireless professional loyalty to Lucy that rarely extends to their actual marriage. Bardem deserves a lot of credit for bringing all these dimensions to someone most associate as just being along for the ride. Whether it's true they'd be no Desi without her, Bardem situates him in the driver's seat more often than not, even making him remarkably likable while doing it. He also really impresses in the sitcom reenactment scenes, which all play better than expected due to the comedic chops of those involved.

The flashbacks and staged interviews are somewhat redundant, underlining what's already evident in the '53 segments that detail Lucy's week from hell. If you can get past the fact Kidman looks nothing like Ball and rarely attempts to vocally inflect her, there's a lot to appreciate in what she does with the material, which treats her as a real person who should be played as such. The actress excels in conveying the deep seeded feelings of inadequacy that cause Lucy to micromanage the creative process, while Sorkin shows us with read throughs, run throughs and rehearsals that she's not wrong. Tony Hale hits it out of the park with what's probably his most memorable big screen supporting role thus far far as the frazzled show runner attempting to keep it all together, given the unenviable task of pleasing both Desi and Lucy while still keeping them in line. 

Hale's former Arrested Development co-star Alia Shawkat also makes a huge impression as Madelyn Pugh, the lone female writer and sounding board for Lucy as she tries to push her more progressive ideas through, while Nina Arianda's take on Vivian Vance successfully navigates the strain of being Ethel to Lucille's Lucy and screen wife to William Frawley's much older Fred. Arianda doesn't get a ton of screen time, but she makes the most of it, especially in one dynamic scene opposite Kidman, who shows us there were few limits to whom and what Lucy perceived as threats to her career. And the great J.K. Simmons breathes more complexity into the hard drinking, wisecracking Frawley than one would guess from his character's hysterically dry and cranky demeanor, proving to be Lucy's most unlikely friend and supporter during a tough stretch.

Given all the justifiable reservations concerning whether Kidman fits this role, she's the common denominator in all of this, often anchoring the film's best scenes, be it comedic or otherwise. If the ending's very literally a real crowd pleaser, it's simultaneously a downer as well, forcing audiences to reconcile two Lucys. One was a trailblazing talent that delighted generations with her talent while the other felt constantly insecure and diminished, as if nothing was ever good enough, especially when it came to Desi. Through that lens, the end of her show and marriage could have been an unexpected triumph, enabling Lucy to start a new chapter where she could spread her creative wings without limitations. But even while remaining a force in front of and behind the camera for years to come, it would be impossible to reach these heights again, with Sorkin doing a thorough job exploring exactly why.

Arrested Development (Season 4)

Creator: Michell Hurwitz
Starring: Jason Bateman, Portia de Rossi, Will Arnett, Michael Cera, Alia Shawkat, Tony Hale, David Cross, Jeffrey Tambor, Jessica Walter, Ron Howard, Isla Fisher, Terry Crews
Original Airdate: 2013

★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

All the addictive elements that made Arrested Development so brilliant and groundbreaking when its three universally acclaimed, but ratings-challenged seasons first aired on Fox, is also what ultimately led to its cancellation in 2006. Creator Mitch Hurwitz predicted our addiction to serialized storytelling years before it actually arrived and the bitter feelings surrounding its cancellation only seemed to grow worse when we realized it possibly could have thrived in an era of DVR's and Netflix. Back then viewers just weren't ready for a comedy series that dense and complex, requiring them to do some work--and maybe some rewatching--to pick up on all the inside jokes, call-backs and references.

It's Netflix's Arrested Development

The single-camera format and incorporation of rare for its time devices such as narration, flashbacks and archival footage demanded and rewarded a long term commitment, but made ratings success an impossibility. It may have only lasted three seasons but what it accomplished during them felt richer and more developed than any longer running comedy series to air before or since. More importantly, it was a show made for binge viewing before we even knew what that meant. The question was never if it would come back, but when, and whether we'd want it to with the risk that it may not be at the same level of quality. New episodes would be compared to what's arguably TV's all-time greatest comedy series. Not the most enviable position to be in if you're a writer.

It turns out the biggest revelation coming out of AD's fourth season streaming on Netflix is that it doesn't feel like it's back. At least in the form we knew. Forget about catching up on the first three seasons in preparation, because, with few exceptions, it really is a completely fresh start. And I've decided that's okay because much as the show revolutionized comedy TV when it first aired, it's doing it all over again in a new way, albeit with decidedly more mixed results. Reaction to the new episodes from fans and critics have been all over the map and that feels right. The first few episodes are really rough, and almost downright shocking in how much they diverge from the AD we all knew and loved. But the deeper you go, the more sense it makes and the funnier it gets, making it the only season of the show youll have to watch twice in order to fully grasp what's happening. Ridiculously dense and even more ambitious, it makes the most complicated season of Lost seem almost straightforward by comparison.

Trying to explain the narrative of the season would be a fool's errand but fans remember exactly where we left off in 2006 when Michael Bluth (Jason Bateman) escaped with his son George Michael (Michael Cera) on Gob's (Will Arnett) yacht, fleeing his dysfunctional family for good and leaving overbearing, alcoholic matriarch Lucille (Jessica Walter) to deal with the legal fallout from her role in the Bluth Company's accounting scandal. Of course, as the responsible, likable one, Michael can never truly escape his family or resist bailing them out, so the biggest, most jarring development for fans occurs in the first episode ("Flight of the Phoenix") when we discover the past 7 years haven't treated him well. A failed real estate venture and the shame surrounding his family has derailed his personal and professional life to the point that he's pathetically dorming with his son at college (much to George Michael's embarrassment) while taking classes online.
 

Michael Bluth falls on hard times in "Flight of the Phoenix"

Considering much of the series' initial creative success hinged on Bateman playing straight man to the craziness and infantility surrounding him, this decision is easily the season's boldest and most polarizing. If nothing else, it pushes and challenges the actor (who appears in every episode) in a way he wasn't before, proving he's basically capable of anything the writers throw at him.  After being the solid anchor for his troubled family for years, it's now Michael who needs something from them that can help turn his fortunes around. Each character gets their own episode, with a few getting more than that, as we're clued in on the details of what happened to "a family whose future was abruptly cancelled." All the intersecting events eventually come to a head on a Bluth-created holiday known as "Cinco de Quatro."

Nearly everything is told out of chronological order, sometimes making it difficult to distinguish an event that's happening in the present from a flashback. And it's an adjustment getting used to Ron Howard's narrator explaining copious amounts of plot detail and narrative exposition to get us up to speed. Gone from the show are the days where random jokes would come rapid-fire at a mile a minute and you'd have to worry about blinking in fear you'd miss an absurd inside sight gag. Well, there's still some of that, but it's spread wider throughout the course of the season as something you may have noticed in the second or third episode will pay off in the tenth. In this sense, you have to give the writers credit. It would have been easy to fall back on the same successful jokes (and there are still a few), but they came up with completely new ones at the risk of alienating their core fanbase. About as many work as don't, but there's an unmistakable difference in the type of humor, as it's less laugh-out-loud funny and subtler, letting the audience fill in the blanks. But as it wears on, it's apparent some of the jokes are as strong as the ones in the show's original run. It just takes a while to get there.

The writing has definitely lost a step or two, an issue at times unflatteringly highlighted by the extended, character-focused format which seems almost intentionally made for Netflix binge viewing. Without commercials to pad the running time, the show's a good ten to twelve minutes longer, which can seem more like an enternity when trudging through the first few episodes focusing on George Sr. (Jeffrey Tambor) and Lindsay Bluth-Funke (an unrecognizable Portia de Rossi). Of course, the problem is that some of these characters are better to build episodes around than others, as the show evolves into something slower paced and darker in tone. As expected, there's a noticeably smaller budget, which isn't really that big an issue when you this show was never dependent on expensive effects begin with. Just about the only time it's distractingly obvious is when they try to digitally insert actors into scenes with each other, which serves as another argument against this new, but seemingly unavoidable character-based format  

An injured Tobias Funke with wife Lindsay

The George, Sr. episodes ("Borderline Personalities," "Double Crossers") are especially problematic, if only in just how convoluted they are and how few laughs they offer. Much like everything else, it does eventually come together, but this is the one sub-plot where viewers are unlikely to care. Of course, Tambor is once again spot-on doing double duty as George and his twin brother Oscar but his scheme involving a corporate sweat lodge retreat and the building of a wall never seems to click. It's almost as if they didn't know what to do with George once his legal problems were over, and for the first time, the twin gag actually feels a little forced.  You know you're in trouble when even guest star John Slattery as a hippie anesthesiologist can't even save these.

Lindsay's episodes ("Indian Takers," "Red Hairing") try to return her to her to disingenuous activism roots but instead she's at the center of one of the season's most unfunny gags, as the formerly edgy and materialistic Lindsay character is softened to the point that she's almost nice and normal now. But at least de Rossi proves to be a good sport for letting them joke about her plastic surgery, which otherwise would have been a giant elephant in the room. The George Sr./Lindsay episodes are the only ones that truly drag in a big way, compounded by the fact they come at the start, creating a palpable fear of disappointment for a series that once spoiled us for three years straight without a single clunker.

It's around episode 4 or 5 when the show starts to show shades of its former glory, but a good enough argument can be made that it takes even longer. Hurwitz's plan starts to present itself, the puzzle pieces fall into place and his layout of the season as kind of a Rubik's cube starts making some more sense. The potential movie deal with Ron Howard (fantastic as himself) and Imagine entertainment about the Bluth family that was teased in the third season/series finale starts taking shape, giving Michael a new job as producer ("The B. Team") and injecting the rest of the remaining episodes a greater sense of purpose and unity. New jokes start paying off and everything seems to flow better as it chugs along. It shouldn't come as much of a surprise that the two actors who really knock it out of the park (again) are David Cross as "never nude" and aspiring actor Dr. Tobias Funke and Arnett as master illusionist and womanizer Gob.

"The Final Countdown" to Gob's most spectacular illusion yet.

Of all the episodes, Tobias's ("A New Start," "Smashed") are by far the funniest and come closest to capturing the magic of the show's original run without directly recreating it. Whether he's showing up at a methadone addiction group for his method acting class, accidentally getting busted on a To Catch a Predator-style program, or putting together a musical stage production of the Fantastic Four with rehab patients, nearly everything involving Tobias is comic gold with Cross so earnestly selling the most absurd situations with a goofy cluelessness. Thankfully, Gob's just as sleazy and over-the-top as ever, staging his most elaborately ridiculous "illusion" yet, finding himself trapped in an endless "roofie cycle" and reigniting an old feud with a bitter rival ("Colony Collapse", "A New Attitude"). He also has this huge nervous breakdown scene that's so bizarre and transfixing it defies any conventional description, proving that the series is still capable of perfection when you least expect it.

Of the main main players, Lucille and hook-handed "mother boy" Buster (Tony Hale) are probably the most underutilized, though the latter's single episode ("Off The Hook"), in which he attempts to break away from his domineering mother, is the season's darkest and creepiest, actually playing out out the most disturbing aspects of their relationship that were only implied during the first two seasons. It also leads to Ron Howard's best pop culture reference as narrator. Buster's appearances are primarily limited to only he and Lucille's episode ("Queen B."), making Hale the odd man out and sidelining him with far less screen time than many of the guest stars.

But it's Michael Cera who who brings everything he gained on the big screen back with him to deepen and expand his portrayal of George-Michael in "It Gets Better," which isn't only the best written episode of the season, but an absolute joy to watch from start to finish. Creating the "anti-social network," a fake piracy software program called "Fakeblock," George Michael finds himself entangled in a few giant lies that cause a rift with his father and Cera's astounding in how he keeps the character the same "nice kid" he was while adding dimensions and maturity that make him even funnier.

A reunited George Michael and Maeby

The nature of the relationship between he and his dad (always a strong component of the show) is much more intriguing now that the character is older and there are more directions to go with it. It's work Cera couldn't have done 7 years ago and the one glaring improvement made on a show where no improvements seemed possible. The George Michael greatness even extends into his rebellious "cousin" Maeby's (Alia Shawkat) surprisingly entertaining episode ("Señoritis"), which answers the big question of what became of their semi-incestuous sort of romantic friendship. That reunion doesn't disappoint, and with all the problems with scheduling actors we can at least be thankful they have plenty of scenes together and pick up exactly where they left off. It was near the top of the list of details Hurwitz had to get right, and he nails it, as George Michael and Maeby's weird bond remains just as warm, awkward and hilarious as it was.

AD jump-started the now popular TV trend wherein guest stars can be just as important to the story as the main cast. Anticipation was high and they've done a pretty good job keeping a lid on which favorites would be returning, as well as the size and nature of their roles. A moment comes in the first few minutes of the first episode that convinced me everything was going to be alright and the season would probably work. I smiled and laughed uncontrollably as a bruised, desperate Michael climbed the Bluth Company stair car and proceeded to intentionally induce the vertigo of Lucille Austero (Liza Minnelli), the show's most valuable and hilarious recurring character.

A big surprise is just how much Lucille 2 we get, with her role greatly expanded to the point that she may as well be considered a regular. Her impact is felt in some way through every episode, as Lucille 1's kooky social rival seems to have her hands in all the family business this time around, with Minnelli again proving just how skilled she is at delivering this material. And if that wasn't enough, there's also a great sub-plot involving her rehab clinic, "Austerity," run by her bizarre younger brother Argyle (Tommy Tune) who in just his few outlandish appearances makes an impression that somehow rivals hers in sheer hilarity. Of all the new characters introduced, he feels like the one who most needs to come back.    

A desperate Michael propositions Lucille Austero

Also among the returning favorites are the Bluth's bumbling attorney Barry Zuckerkorn (Henry Winkler), George Sr.'s former secretary and mistress Kitty Sanchez (Judy Greer), the notoriously plain George Michael ex Ann Veal (Mae Whitman), magician Tony Wonder (Ben Stiller), lawyer Bob Loblaw (Scott Baio), screenwriter and former prison warden Stefan Gentles (James Lipton), acting coach Carl Weathers and Andy Richter as themselves, follically challenged Stan Sitwell (Ed Begley, Jr.) and his daughter Sally (Christine Taylor), a heavily aged, completely unrecognizable Steve Holt (!) (Justin Wade Grant) and a lot more.

It ends up being the new faces who, for better or worse, have the biggest impact on the season. The idea of Michael unknowingly getting involved with Ron Howard's "illegitimate daughter" Rebel Alley is a good one, but Isla Fisher just never seems right for the role despite how hard she tries. Maybe the problem is that she does always seems like she's trying, which is an occupational hazard in the AD universe where random spontaneity rules the day. Charlize Theron's mentally handicapped Rita was admittedly a tough act to follow, but part of me thinks casting Bryce Dallas Howard as herself in Fisher's place with Michael not knowing her identity would have been far funnier and better suited to the meta comedy the show specializes in. Instead, Fisher comes off as if she's performing in a traditional sitcom, which this definitely isn't. What saves her is being sandwiched between the two strongest storylines, and Bateman and Cera, who are clearly the MVP's.

Terry Crews fares pretty well as Herman Cain-like conservative politician, Herbert Love, who's in cahoots with George Sr. in his building of the wall and takes a romantic liking to Lindsay. Unfortunately, those are the season's two weakest sub-plots, so his game performance is mostly done a disservice. Maria Bamford is a memorably goofy addition as Tobias's meth-addicted girlfriend DeBrie while Chris Diamantopolous is buried in nonsense as Lindsay's love interest, the "face blind" ostrich farmer Marky Bark. The stunt casting of Kristen Wiig and Seth Rogen as a young Lucille and George Sr. in flashbacks has generated a lot of discussion, and while the execution of it never really works and Rogen just phones it in, Wiig actually seems to have studied Jessica Walters, impressively incorporating many of the actress's mannerisms into the performance.

Guest star Isla Fisher as Rebel Alley.

So now we know. Everyone was wondering what Arrested Development would look and feel like if it ever came back and here's our answer. Fans hoping for the return can probably be split into two camps. Those who demanded it maintain the same exact tone, style and quality of the original episodes and others who just wanted the characters come out for a curtain call or reunion special. What we got was closer to the latter, which is fine, but if Hurwitz and company plan to keep going with this (and right now it looks like they are), I'm not sure they can successfully continue this approach without making some changes. The episodes definitely need to be shorter and tighter and there was too much reliance on the narration, which likely stemmed from the need to catch viewers up on 7 years worth of backstory for eight main characters. There's a lot potential here if they play their cards right and plenty of open-ended storylines to be continued in another season or movie. The finale ("Blockheads") is basically a cliffhanger.

While I can certainly understand the fact that the well deserved boost these actors' careers got as a result of the series made scheduling impossible, it's also easy to sympathize with fans who may feel this shouldn't have been attempted unless the entire cast was available at once. Actors need to pay the bills with other projects but I'm still not sure how I feel about the series being treated as a gig everyone does on the side, as there's no question not having an the entire ensemble together limited the creative possibilities. But within those limits, they came up with something truly inspired and original, refusing to rely on the old stand-bys (no Banana Stand!) in favor of expanding the universe and tweaking its format for new kinds of laughs. Like the Bluths themselves, it's kind of a mess, but with an undertaking this ambitious, that was inevitable. Compared to its previous incarnation, it's tough not to view this new more binge-friendly AD as somewhat of a disappointment. But, honestly, anything would have been. What matters most is that it's still more clever and innovative than any comedy currently on TV.