The manner and timing of this exchange leads me to think it isn’t faulty logic in Mike’s writing, but a deliberate use of a plot device to increase tension and suspense: withholding from the viewer a small piece of key information that changes the unfolding situation. Hitchcock, for example, would obscure key dialogue by having a long loud steam whistle blow or suddenly closing a door between the audience’s POV and the conversation so that all we hear are muffled mumblings. We the readers have just learned that in addition to the MCU imminently arriving to check on Peggy’s welfare and Pouch’s balloon-retrieval operation there’s a third complication headed straight towards Alex that he completely unaware of. Because we don’t know the exact details, our tension is increased by blind anticipation until the action reveals itself in the climax.
That’s the writer’s workshop and film-school theory, anyway…
Did you pair that meal up with some fava beans and a nice chianti?
The trail cam footage was given to the police by none other than Ted Tellum. He wasn’t going to keep a scoop like that hush-hush when he could exploit it, now would he?
I’ve probably watched (and loved) way too many Frank Capra movies, because now I’m really rooting for Tim Wildman to end up reconciling with Peggy once she sees what illegal business Alex has been up to right under her nose (pun intended!) Together, they will thwart Mr. Bellum’s development scheme and the mansion will become a non-profit communal space for artists, writers, philosophers, and the like…
”Maybe it’d stop you trying to be so desperate about making more money than you can ever use? You can’t take it with you, Mr. Kirby. So what good is it? As near as I can see, the only thing you can take with you is the love of your friends.”
I’ve always thought that Season 2 of TNG ranks highly because of Diana Muldaur’s Dr. Pulaski. Seasons 3-5 is where the show hit its stride. For me, things went sideways once the default creative fallback changed in the later years: Earlier on, whenever the plot wore thin — the Enterprise EXPLODED! But then Pickard started wearing a comfy grandpa sweater, Worf melted into dad mode, and whenever the plot wore thin everyone would meet at Troi’s to talk about “how does that thin plot make you feel?”
I could have done without seeing any of Andy’s backside. But at least they were equal-opportunity in showing men, women, attractive, and, uh… the attractive challenged.
Too bad there aren’t any full-time jobs for a modern-day Frances Glessner Lee. You’d be a shoo-in!
It’s Angie Dickinson! (Sorry, but you young ‘uns is gonna have to look up the reference yerself using the google machine.)
It now appears with both spellings but see my post below for details on this original spelling.
A lede is the introductory section in a news article. The idiom “bury the lede” refers to hiding the most important and relevant pieces of a story within other distracting information. This is a universally used and recognized saying within the industry.
The unique spelling of lede (lēd) is said to have originated as a way to avoid confusion and differentiate it from lead (led) which referred to the strip of metal that would separate lines of type in the hot-metal type era from the late 19th century until the 1960s. Many modern non-journalists are familiar with line spacing being referred to as “leading” as some of the more professional level desktop publishing/typesetting software programs used that established industry term.