Castle

I don't know if it's just me, but Castle feels all wrong this season. I've loved this show since it started, but recently the witty banter has faded and the way the murders are being solved is getting more and more implausible. I'm quite happy to suspend my disbelief and go along with unrealistic plot tools, but it feels like the writers are just taking the audience for granted now.



And Rick Castle's just not funny any more. The repartee between him and Beckett is getting dumber and dumber i.e this week the - take another button out joke followed by Castle making a "funny" face was cringeworthy, the kind of humour you'd see in a cartoon.



I really hope the writing improves as this used to be one of my favourite show.

The cast singing "Piano Man" to close out the show.....with most programs, especially dramas, it would fail, but it worked here somehow; just goes to show how Castle is a unique drama.



The episode was interesting, and while certainly a bit dull at times, any episode that makes references to alligators in the sewers of New York will not get lower than a 6.5 from me. This is a show that a lot of people do not know about and I think it is one of the best kept secrets on TV. This was not an excellent episode, but good enough to have me hooked from start to close.

...now THAT would be some serious merchandising, which, along with the "Richard Castle Novels" on store shelves would put the revenues for this show over the top.



However, to the episode at hand: This show always provides a few good giggles on a Monday; otherwise known as the worst day of the week. First there was "Glam Gran and...HIM..." (I love Susan Sullivan and her delivery) and then there was the snot-nosed little Internet hoser who didn't have a clue about how special his acquisitions were. Castle was positively apoplectic at the thought of 135 year old Scotch and Root Beer, though I have to say I have been known to feel the same about just plain old Root Beer. **shudder**



And again there is the Castle-run-through of every possible suspect in a story, none of whom seem to pan out, but it always comes back to one of them. I don't know if I had an off night, or if it was really well disguised this time out, but my thoughts never even went back to the auctioneer.



Perhaps a wee dram of that fine 135 year old Scotch at The Haunt, or Rick's Cafe Americain, or whatever, will help restore my insights. I'd give it a shot...pardon the pun...