As usual, we got some good and some bad out of Entourage tonight—but on the whole, the season is definitely playing out better than it promised to. (Remember that craptacular first episode? And the one a few weeks ago that ended with noogies?)
First off, the good: Eric FINALLY kicked Sloan’s ass to the curb. Seriously, this is a comedy. We don’t need weeks and weeks of back and forth between a character and his ex-girlfriend. Eric, commence to cheating on your new girlfriend with your crazy-hot new assistant Kate Mara, and leave Sloan way, way back in the dust. She’s annoying. But that’s a plus. Maybe we’re done with this Sloan relationship for good. (They haven't been together for TWO YEARS?)
More good: How rare is it to see a pair of really gifted actors together in one scene on Entourage? (Answer: rare.) But when Jami Gertz and Gary Cole had their big-ass fight, it was almost like we were watching an entirely different show. Line of the night: “You can’t fuck for shit!” It’s also great that the writers have been able to expand Cole’s role this season, creating a character who has nothing to do with “the guys” at all, but whose story arcs are actually interesting. It’s guys like Andrew Klein who make Entourage seem like a real reflection of Hollywood—and his emotional meeting with Aaron Sorkin from behind jailhouse glass is the kind of story that seems weird enough to be completely true. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were based on something that actually happened.
And that sort of real-life fun is what I was hoping for when security expert Peter Stormare showed up. Stormare is awesome and hilarious and scary all at the same time, and I had high hopes that his character would be totally over-the-top, but in a believable way. Instead, pretty much every scene with the security team was stupid and too far-fetched. Running drills with Drama, in which the team throws him into a tub to secure him? A waste of five minutes. They probably should’ve skipped right over this and gotten to the stalker—who apparently left his driver’s license in the couch cushions. (Not a great idea, stalker guy.)