ShihTzuTylenol
does this look slutty?
- Joined
- Nov 5, 2009
- Posts
- 4,877
- Reaction score
- 2
- Points
- 0
- Location
- Paris
- Website
- grungenofhorrors.blogspot.com
Today's new BEST THING IN THE WORLD!
RECAP!
There’s got to be some kind of promise with a comedy series that begins with a Mark Twain quote.
F/X’s new dark comedy “Wilfred” brought the lights up with a flash of a quote from America’s finest humorist: “The show opens with Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination.”
Our anti-hero, Ryan (Elijah Wood), is trying to kill himself. We know he won’t succeed, but this is a new series, after all, but he has a pretty good go at it. (His suicide smoothie has more nutrients in it than most people eat in a typical breakfast.)
But then he sees Jenna (Fiona Gubleman), his hot new neighbor, and he suddenly loses the will to die. It sounds like she has an angry and loud boyfriend, but Ryan is too preoccupied with the effects of the vial of pills he downed.
As morning dawns, Ryan opens his door to find Jenna and her…dog? It’s the central conceit of this show that Jenna’s dog, Wilfred (Jason Gann), appears to Ryan as a crass Australian man in a ratty dog suit. It’s not like we ever see what Wilfred the Dog looks like to everybody else – it’s all Dunn, all the time.
Before Ryan can really say anything, he’s taken Wilfred in for the day, watching the dog with the hopes of getting to know the hot neighbor. We have to wonder if the awkward situational humor of seeing Dunn in a dog suit for the rest of this series will be like, let alone the episode.
“Very nice,” Dunn says in a thick Australian accent. “Some sofas it is impossible to get comfortable on.”
Before Ryan can think about his unusual new companion, he gets a call from his unhappy and overstressed sister, Kirsten (Dorian Brown). She works in the maternity ward of the local hospital, and she’s managed to get the dead-end Ryan a job as a desk boy to a senior doctor.
“Do you really think working in contract administration will make me happy?” he asks.
“You think I love squeezing out babies twenty-four seven?” Kristen asks. “Nobody’s happy. It’s all about perception.”
Close up to Wilfred. He’s still there, and still kind of creepy.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna bite you,” he says. “I’m seven years old, and too wise for wear.”
He pulls out a homemade water bong from his bag of toys and lights up.
“You’re not going to work today, Ryan,” he says, passing a toke.
Ryan lights up and falls asleep.
He wakes up to the very macabre strains of his sister’s cell phone ringtone. Time has passed, and Ryan’s missed his first day of work. Kristen isn’t pleased.
But Wilfred is, although during the commercial break, he’s dug quite a few holes in the back yard.
“It’s anxiety,” he says. “Jenna’s been away too long. She’s a goner, Im sure of it. She’s probably choked on something, a bone or something.”
This is our first sign that Wilfred has the same fears and anxieties of an actual dog. Sure, he looks like a lumpy human, but he can smell and worry and freak out just like a canine.
He cons Ryan into taking him for a walk after the real human throws his tennis ball off into another yard, and they talk Jenna. Ryan isn’t her type. We also learn that Wilfred can read. So he’s a dog, but he smokes and talks and reads. It’s like a smutty version of Snoopy.
The new friends end up at a local dive joint, where they drink beer and eat nachos. Wilfred really likes beer. He also really likes the pretty waitress, and he awkwardly rubs up against her in a very graphic fashion. The writers of this show seem to love playing with the audience’s perception of Wilfred in the real world. He’s a dog, with dog-like habits, but his human side is just as strong and two times as naughty.
On their way home, the jerky next door neighbor with a loud motorcycle and an attitude problem drives by, and Wilfred’s on the chase. There’s nearly a fight when the neighbor freaks out, but Jenna is back, and Wilfred is glad to see her. Jenna politely chats with Ryan, and invites him in for drinks, but Ryan wisely declines. Wilfred would be too much of a distraction.
“This isn’t over,” Wilfred warns as he slinks away on Jenna’s arm. “I won’t be ignore, Ryan. You better sleep with your eyes open.”
Then it’s back to Kristen, who nobody really seems to like. Really, if she wasn’t a regular character, that’d be okay. She’s angry with Ryan and eager to know why he’s flaked out on his new job all day. It also turns out that the pills she gave Ryan – the pills he overdosed on – were just sugar pills, meaning that his supposed hallucinations (man in dog costume, etc.) are coming from somewhere else.
Never mind that, there’s a creepy shot of Wilfred smoking ominously in the backyard.
“I want my ball back,” he tells Ryan. He spins a sad tale about his youth as a teething puppy with an oral fixation, and how his love of biting cost him more than a few adopted homes. The ball is what made him lovable, and that particular ball was a gift from a kindly old lady in the puppy pound. Wilfred needs that ball.
Kristen disappears, and boy and his man-dog run off to find the lost ball. It’s in the backyard of the jerky motorcycle neighbor, but Wilfred already knew that. He’s smashed the window and is climbing inside the living room. Turns out jerky neighbor has quite the marijuana grow room, and Wilfred really just wanted the pot.
He snags a couple of plants and lets loose in one of the neighbor’s boots. He goads Ryan into using the other boot as his toilet in a moment of manly restoration, or something like that.
“When was the last time you ever felt this good?” Wilfred yells after they escape the bright lights of the fast returning neighbor. “It’s called living, mate. Trust your instincts. No more doubts. Welcome to your new life.”
Ryan suddenly feels great. He tells off his whiny sister and the doctor that he doesn’t want to work for, and gets to smoking the loot from the jerky neighbor.
“How’s this gonna end?” Ryan asks Wilfred as the two of them lounge in a blaze of smoke, beer and pizza. Wilfred doesn’t know. But Ryan realizes that it’s nice to have somebody looking out for him.
So why is Wilfred’s furry hand seen placing Ryan’s wallet and license in the pile of broken glass at the scene of the crime? Looks like we’ll have to wait until next week.
Is this show a new hit? Or just a quirky one-off joke drawn out for a bit too long? Live your thoughts in the comments.
WILFRED...Today's new BEST THING IN THE WORLD!
RECAP!
There’s got to be some kind of promise with a comedy series that begins with a Mark Twain quote.
F/X’s new dark comedy “Wilfred” brought the lights up with a flash of a quote from America’s finest humorist: “The show opens with Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination.”
Our anti-hero, Ryan (Elijah Wood), is trying to kill himself. We know he won’t succeed, but this is a new series, after all, but he has a pretty good go at it. (His suicide smoothie has more nutrients in it than most people eat in a typical breakfast.)
But then he sees Jenna (Fiona Gubleman), his hot new neighbor, and he suddenly loses the will to die. It sounds like she has an angry and loud boyfriend, but Ryan is too preoccupied with the effects of the vial of pills he downed.
As morning dawns, Ryan opens his door to find Jenna and her…dog? It’s the central conceit of this show that Jenna’s dog, Wilfred (Jason Gann), appears to Ryan as a crass Australian man in a ratty dog suit. It’s not like we ever see what Wilfred the Dog looks like to everybody else – it’s all Dunn, all the time.
Before Ryan can really say anything, he’s taken Wilfred in for the day, watching the dog with the hopes of getting to know the hot neighbor. We have to wonder if the awkward situational humor of seeing Dunn in a dog suit for the rest of this series will be like, let alone the episode.
“Very nice,” Dunn says in a thick Australian accent. “Some sofas it is impossible to get comfortable on.”
Before Ryan can think about his unusual new companion, he gets a call from his unhappy and overstressed sister, Kirsten (Dorian Brown). She works in the maternity ward of the local hospital, and she’s managed to get the dead-end Ryan a job as a desk boy to a senior doctor.
“Do you really think working in contract administration will make me happy?” he asks.
“You think I love squeezing out babies twenty-four seven?” Kristen asks. “Nobody’s happy. It’s all about perception.”
Close up to Wilfred. He’s still there, and still kind of creepy.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna bite you,” he says. “I’m seven years old, and too wise for wear.”
He pulls out a homemade water bong from his bag of toys and lights up.
“You’re not going to work today, Ryan,” he says, passing a toke.
Ryan lights up and falls asleep.
He wakes up to the very macabre strains of his sister’s cell phone ringtone. Time has passed, and Ryan’s missed his first day of work. Kristen isn’t pleased.
But Wilfred is, although during the commercial break, he’s dug quite a few holes in the back yard.
“It’s anxiety,” he says. “Jenna’s been away too long. She’s a goner, Im sure of it. She’s probably choked on something, a bone or something.”
This is our first sign that Wilfred has the same fears and anxieties of an actual dog. Sure, he looks like a lumpy human, but he can smell and worry and freak out just like a canine.
He cons Ryan into taking him for a walk after the real human throws his tennis ball off into another yard, and they talk Jenna. Ryan isn’t her type. We also learn that Wilfred can read. So he’s a dog, but he smokes and talks and reads. It’s like a smutty version of Snoopy.
The new friends end up at a local dive joint, where they drink beer and eat nachos. Wilfred really likes beer. He also really likes the pretty waitress, and he awkwardly rubs up against her in a very graphic fashion. The writers of this show seem to love playing with the audience’s perception of Wilfred in the real world. He’s a dog, with dog-like habits, but his human side is just as strong and two times as naughty.
On their way home, the jerky next door neighbor with a loud motorcycle and an attitude problem drives by, and Wilfred’s on the chase. There’s nearly a fight when the neighbor freaks out, but Jenna is back, and Wilfred is glad to see her. Jenna politely chats with Ryan, and invites him in for drinks, but Ryan wisely declines. Wilfred would be too much of a distraction.
Then it’s back to Kristen, who nobody really seems to like. Really, if she wasn’t a regular character, that’d be okay. She’s angry with Ryan and eager to know why he’s flaked out on his new job all day. It also turns out that the pills she gave Ryan – the pills he overdosed on – were just sugar pills, meaning that his supposed hallucinations (man in dog costume, etc.) are coming from somewhere else.
Never mind that, there’s a creepy shot of Wilfred smoking ominously in the backyard.
“I want my ball back,” he tells Ryan. He spins a sad tale about his youth as a teething puppy with an oral fixation, and how his love of biting cost him more than a few adopted homes. The ball is what made him lovable, and that particular ball was a gift from a kindly old lady in the puppy pound. Wilfred needs that ball.
Kristen disappears, and boy and his man-dog run off to find the lost ball. It’s in the backyard of the jerky motorcycle neighbor, but Wilfred already knew that. He’s smashed the window and is climbing inside the living room. Turns out jerky neighbor has quite the marijuana grow room, and Wilfred really just wanted the pot.
He snags a couple of plants and lets loose in one of the neighbor’s boots. He goads Ryan into using the other boot as his toilet in a moment of manly restoration, or something like that.
“When was the last time you ever felt this good?” Wilfred yells after they escape the bright lights of the fast returning neighbor. “It’s called living, mate. Trust your instincts. No more doubts. Welcome to your new life.”
Ryan suddenly feels great. He tells off his whiny sister and the doctor that he doesn’t want to work for, and gets to smoking the loot from the jerky neighbor.
“How’s this gonna end?” Ryan asks Wilfred as the two of them lounge in a blaze of smoke, beer and pizza. Wilfred doesn’t know. But Ryan realizes that it’s nice to have somebody looking out for him.
So why is Wilfred’s furry hand seen placing Ryan’s wallet and license in the pile of broken glass at the scene of the crime? Looks like we’ll have to wait until next week.
Is this show a new hit? Or just a quirky one-off joke drawn out for a bit too long? Live your thoughts in the comments.
WILFRED...Today's new BEST THING IN THE WORLD!
I know it, I miss her too, but hey now we got
I'm gross
I'm not making this shit up!) lmfao
