Twist in latest episode of ‘Homeland’ was pure genius
Since its inception, Homeland has never failed to impress. Some might say the second series was a let down. I’d disagree. The end of last night’s episode, however, was pure genius and the revelation that Carrie Mathison had been working for the CIA all along whilst being held in a psychiatric ward certainly showed how clever Howard Gordon and Alex Gansa’s script truly is.
Whilst Jim Shelley in the Mail Online might call this “one long con” and a “TV show abusing the trust of its own fans”, those of us who have become Homeland addicts will beg to differ. Twists and turns make for better viewing when orchestrated properly and without doubt, Gordon and Gansa deliver them brilliantly.
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You should be watching Downton Abbey instead. Much better television.
Hannah.
Firstly, I disagree. Downton’s fussy sub-plots are just silly and the whole thing is in danger of disappearing up Julian Fellowe’s backside. Secondly, both ITV and C4 have +1 channels so you can watch them both.
To quote from F Scott Fitzgerald:
“Movie standards are different,” said Boxley hedging….
“Suppose you’re in your office. You’ve been fighting duels or writing all day and you’re too tired to fight or write any more. You’re sitting there staring—dull, like we all get sometimes. A pretty stenographer that you’ve seen before comes into the room and you watch her—idly. She doesn’t see you though you’re very close to her. She takes off her gloves, opens her purse and dumps it out on a table -”
Stahr stood up, tossing his key-ring on his desk.
“She has two dimes and a nickle—and a cardboard match box. She leaves the nickle on the desk, puts the two dimes back into her purse and takes her black gloves to the stove, opens it and puts them inside. There is one match in the match box and she starts to light it kneeling by the stove. You notice that there’s a stiff wind blowing in the window—but just then your telephone rings. The girl picks it up, says hello—listens—and says deliberately into the phone ’I’ve never owned a pair of black gloves in my life.’ She hangs up, kneels by the stove again, and just as she lights the match you glance around very suddenly and see that there’s another man in the office, watching every move the girl makes -”
Stahr paused. He picked up his keys and put them in his pocket.
“Go on,” said Boxley smiling. “What happens?”
“I don’t know,” said Stahr. “I was just making pictures.”