Agent Keen continues to ignore my loud internet ravings to change her perma-pink lipstick, which I am trying not to take personally. And while she has not assuaged my fears concerning her ability to carry the role of the protagonist, she has continued in her mediocrity, and therefore I have no glaring errors to point out. Congratulations, Megan Boone, you've succeeded so far in not-sucking. But, I challenge you to aspire to rise about the likes of Cameron Diaz, and become actually likable in the future. Fingers crossed. But for heavens sake, don't get any more wooden, or I'm going to draw unflattering parallels with . . . other leading TV ladies (*cough* Fringe *cough*).
Despite that rather petty paragraph, this second episode was great fun. It's looking like The Blacklist is going to be more of a people-pleaser than a boat-rocker, but maybe (fingers crossed) I'm getting lured into a false sense of security right before the writers blow my mind. This episode definitely got an enormous boost from their villain of the week, Isabella Rossellini, who can be simultaneously alluring, sympathetic, and batshit terrifying. Also, seeing her in this role only emphasized the eau de Alias wafting through most of the scenes.
Speaking of Alias, it's looking like James Spader's character is going to take on a very Sloane-esque angle, where he is miraculously able to keep an incredible amount of autonomy and access for himself with only token resistance from the government. Apparently, lawyers just sit around and feebly protest that we really don't let lifelong criminals gallivant about in this way (I did, however, dig that the U.S. Attorney was an older, kinda crusty character of a woman, it was a delightful change from the norm). I'm choosing to ignore the realities that directly contradict that conceit, and continue to ride out this bit of fun.
But in direct contradiction to the aforementioned fun: please don't ever make me watch James Spader kiss anyone, ever ever again. Spader doesn't kiss, because to kiss he would have to be a sexual being, which I am really not ready to accept into my world view. Spader's gift is that he conveys an enormous amount of intelligence, which is what makes him a great choice for this conniving, master-manipulator role, and why he was the world's second-best Daniel Jackson. But no more kissing.
Other than the fact that "The Freelancer" was the shiftiest-looking waiter ever, and therefore undermines his credibility as an undetectable assassain, I would call episode two be very solid work. Now, as long as they don't jump the gun and tell us everything about the husband too fast, I'm going to have a great time watching. Remember the lessons of your forefathers (aka J.J.): less is more, as long as you know what the island is beforehand.