As a lesbian gynecologist, I found last night’s episode of New Girl to be very informative.
As a writer who likes to be as sarcastic as possible in his review’s opening lines, I found the episode to be full of great one liners and quirky, offbeat observations (“I’m sorry I don’t talk like Murphy Brown!”) which made for a highly enjoyable viewing experience. It would be nice, though, if Schmidt were not such a, well, prissy little bitch all the time. Well, maybe not all the time. But enough of the time that one has to wonder whether he’s aiming to create a new offshoot of the whole metrosexual phenomenon. Perhaps it should be called “oh dear god, not the towel thing again!”
Last night’s episode was about one thing: misunderstandings. Misunderstandings arise between Jess and Julia (Nick’s gal pal), Winston and his erstwhile booty call/friend, and Schmidt and his towel. The towel keeps getting damp, you see, and Schmidt just can’t abide dampness when he steps out of the shower (reminds me of my dog, actually).
But the big to-do was between Jess and Julia. Julia, it seems, doesn’t like Jess because she can’t seem to take her seriously. Jess is just a bit much with all her girly attendants constantly in tow . . . and by attendants I mean things like perkiness, ribbon hats, an affection for all things glittery and related to macaroni art. Julia, to be fair, carries herself with a certain “certainty” that Jess doesn’t aspire to. Julia is, after all, a lawyer, and Jess teaches kids about the wonders of macramé.
It also doesn’t help that Julia asks Jess if other girls sleep over at Nick’s place. It pisses her off when Jess tells Nick about the inquiry from “the girl he’s sleeping with” (he doesn’t like labels, you see). Commence unnecessary tension between Jess and Julia. Wither sisterhood, ladies? What would Murphy Brown say?!?
The big question mark I have yet to settle regarding last night’s episode is how I feel about Winston’s storyline. It might be me, but after all my carping in earlier reviews that the writers simply don’t know what to do with Winston given his lack of storylines, I may have to take it all back: they gave Winston a storyline last night and he still didn’t interest me . . . at all. Hell, the pretty girl he is trying to woo who manages a Panera-like eatery who we’ve never seen before is more interesting to me and we only got to know her for a full five minutes. Maybe the problem isn’t Winston’s lack of storylines. It just might be Winston himself. He just ain’t interesting!
I think I found something new for Schmidt to bitch about: get a new, more interesting roomie!