Bones debuted its fourth season a couple of weeks ago. I sat down one night and began to watch the entire thing, from beginning to end. My first thought was, “Sooo… Zach was really a bad guy then? It wasn’t some sort of trick, or joke, or test of faith, like the dinosaur fossils?” See, I kept waiting for the punchline on that one. Yes, I know it’s just a TV show, and I don’t really watch TV and all that, but… this is Zach I’m talking about.
Not only was his character smart and well spoken (English not being my native language, I practiced word pronunciations after his speech patterns), but from day one he was part of the glue that kept the fictitious Jeffersonian team cohesive, that moved in perfect unison with the rest of each episode in dialogue, in behavior, in comic release. He was King of the Lab.
But now… the entire season debut is a huge rash covering 80% of my brain. I had to look up the show to make sure the writers were still the same. It isn’t a new thing that sometimes successful TV shows start up a new season with weak episodes. I’m not saying the entire thing was terrible, but the forensic workload was predictable, and not prominent enough. I love it when Hodgins enumerates particulates, and all I can remember is some crushed coral that Bones recognized herself. The whole puzzling after microscopic bits of evidence was missing, or maybe I didn’t get the chemistry that’s always been there between Zach and Hodgins. Oh, I’ll be bellyaching about for at least three more days.
There were some good moments, two of those I’ve screen-captured here, for the happy memories. I love aerial shots in photography and film because they are a wonderful window to how things would look to me were I seriously tall. A few minutes into the season there was such a shot. See the tiny little red car in the center of the picture? That’s Booth’s rental, and standing next to it you’ll see the man himself, screaming in the middle of the street because he’s frustrated with London traffic.
Whatever. I wasn’t paying any attention to that. Instead, I was making calculations as to my fictional height when standing on the camera’s spot. I put me at +100 ft. in height, the average person down there about three inches in length. Fabulous. There would be enough space between buildings for me to walk along streets, and I’d be tall enough to look over plenty of buildings. Or walk over them. Why cross the street when I can cross the building?
Back to Bones: the lackluster opening episode doesn’t mean I’ll stop watching it. Right now it’s still my favorite show.