After putting up my post about Ken Tucker’s new blog, I had an e-mail exchange with a fellow critic about the value of writing about shows after the fact, on a blog, versus writing about them before the fact, in a traditional review. 30 Rock, at least, is a perfect show for blogging about the morning after, because, really, all my review of last night’s show would be is
…followed by a list of all the LOLs I could manage to type down: the gold shoes and suit of money, “What is that iron bird?”, the Teen Witch shout-out… but you can do that in the comments. Beyond that… well, yeah, Jack’s storyline showed him confronting his false bravado about being alone and Liz’s, her babyfever, P.C. awkwardness and difficulty connecting in relationships—all well done, but I’m sure we’ve talked about that before. So: “Cat sound!” LOL!
OK, one thing: The flood of celebrity appearances are threatening to become a distraction soon. As in four episodes ago. Still, I can’t find anything to knock in Peter Dinklage’s wry performance, and while Salma Hayek’s was nothing special (as in her early Ugly Betty telanovela cameo I didn’t see a home health aide but Salma Hayek playing a home health aide)… well, it’s Salma Hayek, and if the ladies can watch The Mentalist for Simon Baker, then fair’s fair.