Things just keep getting complicated for Hank and everyone around him, as the first season of Californication enters its second phase. And just like the first six episodes, it's gonna be a wild, fun ride.
Things start on a false note for Hank, as he finds out Becca doesn't believe in happy endings, partly because of hi situation with Karen. He tries to fix this by getting Karen her dream job - working on Todd Carr's house. Carr, on the other hand, is interested in optioning Hank's blog, to which the concerned party reacts in a fully justified way: "How the f*ck do you option a blog? What's there to option? The title? The font?". Meanwhile, Charlie and Marcy may have found a solution to their marital problems: a threesome (or a ménage à trois, as the more sophisticated ones say).
One of the funniest things about this episode is how Charlie really has come into his own since he first appeared: originally a two-scene-per-episode supporting dude, he's now a bona fide co-star who can compete with Duchovny over who gets the funniest lines (Duchovny wins, but still...). Plus, there's that wonderful postmodern notion of characters explaining literary theories (in this case, the existence of happy endings) by relating them to their own personal stories. Who said this kind of cleverness isn't doable in a 30-minute TV episode?
Things start on a false note for Hank, as he finds out Becca doesn't believe in happy endings, partly because of hi situation with Karen. He tries to fix this by getting Karen her dream job - working on Todd Carr's house. Carr, on the other hand, is interested in optioning Hank's blog, to which the concerned party reacts in a fully justified way: "How the f*ck do you option a blog? What's there to option? The title? The font?". Meanwhile, Charlie and Marcy may have found a solution to their marital problems: a threesome (or a ménage à trois, as the more sophisticated ones say).
One of the funniest things about this episode is how Charlie really has come into his own since he first appeared: originally a two-scene-per-episode supporting dude, he's now a bona fide co-star who can compete with Duchovny over who gets the funniest lines (Duchovny wins, but still...). Plus, there's that wonderful postmodern notion of characters explaining literary theories (in this case, the existence of happy endings) by relating them to their own personal stories. Who said this kind of cleverness isn't doable in a 30-minute TV episode?
