Normally, I’m not too fond of convoluted retcons of retcons. But when the original was as bad as the Franco Quartermaine nonsense turned out to be… I guess I’ll allow it? Especially if it means the powers that be have FINALLY realized this entire recast story was a huge mistake.
And really, doesn’t the son of Heather Webber and Scott Baldwin turning out to be a serial killer leave slightly less of a bad taste in your mouth than foisting that crap off on Alan?
(For those keeping track at home, this makes the third grown child Scotty never knew he had and the second one who turned out to be a bit of a psychotic murderer. Jeez, Baldwin. Did they not have condoms in the 70s?)
KINDA MAKES YOU WONDER ABOUT
THOSE BALDWIN GENES, HUH?
Which isn’t to say I’m loving every aspect of this new backstory. But it does get Franco out of the Qs, which was a connection the writers hadn’t bothered to explore in anything close to an emotionally satisfying way. It gives Scotty something to do other than stalk and moon over Laura. And it neatly explains Heather’s obsession with Franco with a little more nuance than “bitch crazy.”
Most importantly: it gives Robin Mattson a platform to once again prove that she is the reigning MVP of holding that delicate balance between heartbreak and farce. That moment when she went from indignant hurt to forgiveness and compassion over Franco’s lost talent? (We can debate the merits of pre-tumor removal Franco’s “art” at another time.) That manic, delusional hope when she promised that now they could be a real mother and son? Mattson is the master.
Meanwhile, Michael Easton seems to be enjoying his work again now that Silas has basically transformed into McBain in scrubs. I’m not knocking it, because standing in the background of dramatic scenes making faces and wry quips is really one of the parts of McBain’s presence in town I’ve missed the most.
(The other, of course, being his habit of casually smoldering whenever he was within fifteen feet of Sam. Luckily, Silas seems to have picked that up too.)
UGH, JUST MAKE OUT ALREADY
In other news: the less said about Olivia and Sonny, the better, because if I start down that road, I’ll just end up frothing at the mouth, shaking my fists at the sky, screaming HE SHOT YOUR SON IN THE CHEST! And haven’t we all already been down that road? It leads nowhere but frustration and rage blackouts.
But I do need to give a shout out to her adorable red dress and to Lisa LoCicero for wearing it:
My kingdom for a story more worthy of her many assets in all their bountiful glory.