BOB HART OUT OF THE BOX
THIS series is complete tosh, obviously. But if there is another show on which the scriptwriters have more fun, or indulge themselves more extravagantly, lead me to it.
No scenario, however improbable, goes unexplored, expanded upon, and/or beaten to within an inch of its life. And in the course of all that, no button goes unpressed.
Tonight the writers leap, feetfirst, into the slapstick arena — an opportunity presented by Lynette being made aware of Tom’s little indiscretion, all those years ago. Oh dear.
So Lynette, rather than confront Tom with his dirty little secret, continues to seek revenge without letting him know that she knows.
‘‘ My rage needs an outlet,’’ she explains. And later, she adds: ‘‘ I am not ready to get over it.’’ Fair enough. Humour the writers, OK?
So she fiddles with a garden hose so that it explodes in his face, generously salts his coffee, unpicks the seam of his trousers and does other wonderful, grown-up stuff.
Tom’s bouncy slide down the stairs, which she had enlivened with a smear of peanut butter, could have been nasty. And those explicit porno shots she incorporated
Un-Hare Krishna: Bree