Thursday, May 27, 2010

The Mentalist - Red Sky in the Morning, S02E23

Although some of the things I've been complaining of lately were included in this episode, I didn't care. OMG, it was so amazing I was completely baffled. I can't wait for next season, and I hope there are more episodes like this one.

Okay, so again, this has become the Patrick Jane (Simon Baker) show, and most of the time I wish that other characters would get a little more focus, but this episode HAD to focus completely on him and I am glad it did.

It started with a Red John copy cat murder going viral on YouTube. After a date with psychic Kristina (Leslie Hope), Jane was already shook up, but he was even more erratic about keeping Kristina from being involved. She, ignoring Patrick, spoke about Red John on a talk show, throwing Jane into a panic. And, again, he was right...but he did not want to be. Red John murdered the host of that show, taking the episode from copy cat to the real deal.

Still, CBI wanted to find the copy cat killer, as a girl was in fact dead, and despite Jane's distraction, he was able to help on the case.

Then, disaster of disasters, Kristina disappears. Although it appeared as though she had made a run for it, Jane was convinced that Red John had taken her.

Finally, Jane ended up at what he believed to be the copy cat's safe house. He was going to wait for Lisbon to show up, but his curiosity got the better of him. When he went in, he got knocked out, and almost played a part in the cheap slasher flick the copy cats were making to honour Red John. But Red John doesn't like to be honoured cheaply. He showed up, killing the two murderers while only incapacitating an innocent victim. Jane, meanwhile, was tied up. He could only listen as Red John spoke to him the words of William Blake, as well as inform him that he did indeed have Kristina.

Finally, in beautiful parallelism to the pilot episode, we see Jane in his bedroom, still bare except a simple mattress. He fell asleep under the Red John smiley face, reciting the poem.

If all that didn't have you on the edge of your seat while constantly sending chills down your spine, then you are as batty and insensitive as those copy cats were. I'm breathless and so happy.

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