Review: SHERLOCK SEASON TWO OMG!

Can we talk about Sherlock now OMG.

Here be spoilers, carry on if you dare! Or if you already know!

Or if you don't care.

By the way, this isn't so much a "review" as a very long, disconnected, slashful, ALLCAPS SQUEEFEST. Cool? Cool.

So I couldn't imagine anything that could upstage the first season, which was the best television I've seen in years (possibly ever). But OMG, the second season completely exceeded my expectations, which is shocking because I’m one picky weequasher. I tried to tell myself it would suck, because that way it's easier to not get disappointed if it DID suck. But in many ways the second season is even better than the first, and I just can't stop thinking about it.

CAN WE TALK ABOUT SCANDAL NOW OMG

I’ll admit they way they ended the cliffhanger pool scene annoyed me. I was expecting explosions and wet t-shirt contests and I didn’t get any of that. Despite that, I think Scandal In Belgravia was my favourite episode of the series. The 90 minutes flew by and it gave me so many warm and fuzzy feelings.

In fact, I might even use the trite term EX-FUCKING-HILARATING to describe this episode. It was so awesome.

Irene Adler was hot, though I don't find visible ribs sexy I think she had swag and hey, everybody likes lesbians. I also deeply respect her for pulling The Naked Man on Sherlock (pity it only works two out of three times!) 

Sherlock finally got those x-ray contact-lenses to work.

It does irk me that Adler was Sherlock’s intellectual equal except she was worse than him because she was a woman ("Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side" – smooth.) That was lame.

BUT WAIT, she's gay but straight-for-Sherlock, and my big heart-wrenching THING that I had to rip out of the subtext was that Sherlock was straight for her too.

Here's The Thing About Benedict Cumberbatch...

Disclaimer: I'm just a girl with a crush on an actor. I'm not crazy, my mother had me tested.

But here's the thing about Benedict Cumberbatch. 

He’s flawless in his strangeness.

Above: beautiful alien.

Oh, it's so hard to keep my squee in check when we're talking about him. But I’ll try to explain my love using words rather than just mashing my boobs on the keyboAEFEZANJL.OHNJSDFVGJHYDSFGVA

Ahem. 

Right, we're going to use words. Here are some words:

THAT VOICE THOSE CURLS THAT TALENT THOSE PIERCING BLUE EYES THAT BRITISHNESS ALL THAT CHEMISTRY WITH MARTIN FREEMAN THAT UPPER LIP HIS GENERAL SWEETNESS AND GENUINE INTELLIGENCE AND PASSION FOR HIS JOB AND HUMBLE SELF-DEPRECATING BEAUTY  OH AND THAT EFFORTLESS GRACE THAT PERMEATES EVERY PART OF HIM WHEN HE ACTS.

You might have guessed that I'm serious about Benedict Cumberbatch. I don’t mind being called a cumberbitch. I don’t mind being called a leperous prostitute with an enthusiasm for the b’cumz.  Any label that shows my devotion to this man I’ve never met is FINE with me.

The thing I love about cumberbitches (or cumberladies, cumbermuffins, cumberpuffs, what have you) is that it takes a certain sensitivity to understand why Benedict Cumberbatch is so awesome. That sensitivity usually comes with cleverness and an almost manic loyalty which makes Cumberbatch fangirls just the funniest, craziest, most entertaining fanbase I've ever come across. 

See, Ben* is not just a Hollywood hunk with fake teeth and a six-pack. He's one of those serious actors that does plays and movies about war and the past and shit. Despite his mesmerizing performance as Sherlock, he's played Stephen Hawking, Vincent Van Gogh, Victor Frankenstein, and of course, plenty of important old guys from the past. He's not famous because he's hot - 

Doesn't hurt either... *smolder smolder smolder*

He's famous because he's a fucking amazing actor. And that's exactly why I'm totally spectacularly ridiculously obsessed with him. Do you know how short my attention span is? Do you know how superficial I am? I get BORED, you guys. I get over most crushes in the time it takes me to tweet about it. But since I saw the first season of Sherlock six bloody months ago, I can't get Benedict Cumberbatch out of my head.

He defies logic. He has an unfortunate name and he's one of those cursed people who has a double-chin even when they're really skinny. Anyone that posh is usually crippled by his own privilege. He's not supposed to be a star - he's not even supposed to have the self-assurance to be an actor. But he's got this confidence, this charisma, this endless talent-tinged energy that gives you a glimpse of something far deeper than ordinary life when he performs. 

And once you get that glimpse, it's a little addictive. You end up watching really depressing period dramas and poorly written Hugh Laurie shows just to get your fix. If you're really lucky, you'll even discover a hilarious and perfect radio sitcom** that takes Benedict Cumberbatch's voice to new levels of endearing sweetness (did I mention he has great comedic timing? Because HE TOTALLY DOES.)

But it's not all perfect. So he's cheating on me and THAT'S OKAY. Apparently he's still with "designer Anna Jones" (the obnoxious air quotes will never die) whom he began dating a few months ago. I loved how on twitter all the girls were all like "ooh we're so happy for him" and I was all WHO IS THIS BITCH  and taking my earrings off. 

It's one of the perils of him being so extraordinary -  it's easy to forget that he's an actual person who lives in the world, as is his girlfriend. He wants babies, she has lovely childbearing hips. I'm sure they're very happy together (she typed as blood poured from her slit wrists onto the keyboard.) 

That neck will be the death of me.

He's lovely, and I want him to be happy of course. It's just that a big part of me wishes he'd realize that "designer Anna Jones" has a boring name, break up with her, and then one lonely night he'll be drinking red wine and on a whim decide to google his own name. And then he'll come across this blog and see what a lovely convoluted name I have (my middle name is Shamilevna, bitches, I'm fascinating) and then he'll smile and send me an adorable email and we'll chat and get married and stuff.

IT COULD HAPPEN.

 *Of course we're on a first-name basis. We're dating, remember?

**Pretty please click on this link, because Cabin Pressure is the source of almost all my sitcom references nobody will get tags!

IMAGES USED DON'T BELONG TO ME. FIRST AND LAST ARE © BBC (SHERLOCK SCREENCAPS), I'M AN IDIOT AND CAN'T FIND CREDIT FOR THE SECOND PIC. IF YOU KNOW WHERE IT'S FROM, PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN CREDIT! THANKS FOR READING ♥

Here's the thing about Misha Collins...

Let's have a disclaimer first: I haven't been in the real world in a long time. So over the past year or so, my fangirl tendencies have sort of, um, intensified. It's not dangerous or creepy or anything – I mean, I don't know exactly where Benedict Cumberbatch lives. But it's not for lack of googling.

I haven't really mentioned Benedict or any other recent boyfriends obsessions because this blog is supposed to have some measure of – I don't know – self-respect? Shame? Um, no, that can't be it. I think because I just hate reading uncritical, unchecked squee and I can't bear publishing it under my own name (and Anonymous Has A Blog! didn't have the same ring to it.)

So here is my first entry of Checked Squee*. I really like this term because it sounds like a small fowl that rich people eat. Go on, doesn't 'Checked Squee and Plums on Wild Rice' sound like a recipe for a pretentious main course? It does? Good. I love writing, you can't hear the people who disagree with you.

So here's the thing about Misha Collins...

We could just leave this here.

I started watching Supernatural because of him. He plays the angel Castiel, which is a pretty name so I'm already on his side. I'm superficial like that.

He appears in the fourth season, looking like a disheveled office worker with his hair a little mussed and his tie a little loose, as if he's just finished fucking a secretary over his lunch break. Rawr. He also appears with terribly dry lips for reasons best known to the stingy make-up crew. I assume it's in their contract that only series regulars get complimentary lip balm – or maybe the catering on set only has low-cal sand and dust to keep anyone from looking bloated. We may never know. The point is, he shows up and it's good. (Just to be clear, Castiel is an angel, but like a BAMF** angel.)

Part of Misha Collins' appeal in Supernatural is that he’s a great contrast to the two stars. Jared Padalecki (Sam) just a cutie – he has these puppy-dog eyes and these dimples and this overall sweetness about him. I bet he'd hold his girlfriend's hand during The Notebook instead of rolling his eyes and asking what else is on. Jensen Ackles (Dean), try as he might to deepen his voice and square his shoulders, is goddamn beautiful. This is a guy who could have had a long and happy career in soaps because he's pretty like a girl. Frankly, I don't know how he gets anything done, because if I looked like that I'd spend all my time licking my own reflection.

And then you have Misha Collins: handsome but not overgroomed, serious, with this deep smoky voice and a strong soldier vibe. The character of Castiel is also well crafted and perfectly suited for Misha – he has a wicked sense of humour and really shines when Castiel is unintentionally hilarious. This video won't let me embed *shakes fist at the sky* but here's a great moment: Cas runs out of minutes.

Castiel also has fangirl appeal because he's mysterious – his appearances brief and unexpected, his message important and his morality ambiguous. Nobody screeches the car to a halt and demands to know how Cas feels inside. He's refreshingly stoic and his appearances bring a lot of gravity to a story otherwise skipping towards the apocalypse. (I'm talking about seasons 4 and 5 here, because in my mind seasons 6 and 7 are pretty much a big-budget fanfic.)

So maybe I got a little into Misha Collins. That's fine, perfectly manageable, and usually sorted by  the youtube cure – watching a few interviews with the actor in question. 

The thing about actors is that they're usually so disappointingly ordinary, and while you might enjoy watching them pretending to be fascinating characters, it's easy to cancel your plans to marry them once you see them umming and awing through a Q&A panel or a red carpet question-assault (I hate red carpet interviews – I don't like seeing anyone feeling rushed and overdressed.) Past actors I've stalked liked include Jim Parsons (Sheldon from Big Bang Theory) and Zachary Quinto (Sylar from Heroes) (shut up, I know they're both gay, but I can change them with my love***) and the youtube cure worked quite well for both. Jim Parsons, bless him, is so easily flustered and distracted that it's quite painful to watch him being himself. Zachary Quinto takes himself a bit too seriously and dresses badly. He's also made several Funny Or Die videos, most of which fall into the Die category.

I might mention Benedict Cumberbatch here, but a) I'm still not over him even though he's cheating on me, and b) he is so special and British and delightful, he's going to get his own entry soon.

So I looked up Misha Collins, and guys, the youtube cure didn't work. It just made everything a million times worse. This guy is – see, if this were unchecked squee I'd say things like 'amazing', 'epic' and 'extraordinary'. But since my blog is all critical and snarky and pseudo-intellectual, I'm going to say he's nuts. Media people keep calling him 'eccentric' and the term 'Misha being Misha' is a fandom tag – and when the fandom is lost for words you know you've got something special. But I'll try to put a finger on why I can't get him out of my head: he's funny and smart and witty and random and completely self-assured and basically everything you want in a boyfriend.

My obsession snowballed from youtube. How is this guy not A-list when he's got leading-man looks and can string a sentence together and not bump into the furniture? Ah, here's the critical part of this entry. I'm not going to say 'because Hollywood is unfair MISHA FOR PRESIDENT' because, come on.

Part of the answer might be that it's easy to make him break – there are so many stories of the cast and crew, especially Jared Padalecki, (whom the youtube cure did work on because he seems to me like a bit of a douchebag now) pranking Misha, resulting in dozens of ruined takes. So maybe cruel, heartless sabotage has followed Misha throughout his career? 

Then again, it could just be that he makes poor decisions. I recently watched Divine: The Series which he stars in and helped create. And while I approve of the Misha Collins as a priest kink role, the rest of the series was fairly rubbish. In fact, it was so rubbish that I couldn't summarise the horror in a few sentences, so you can look forward to a terribly unkind review of it in the near future. Oddly enough most people think Divine is alright, so maybe that's just me with my troublesome critical thinking.

More things about Misha Collins... he's smart. Like, went-to-college, had-jobs-where-nobody-told-him-what-to-say smart. He goes to Tibet or someplace for ten days every year to meditate. Enlightenment is hot. He built his house and most of the furniture in it himself. He's a carpenter. LIKE JESUS. And he plays an angel? That can't just be a coincidence.

No seriously, I want my money back on the youtube cure. Part of its purpose is to cancel out the scary fangirl trains of thought that involve moving to LA and advertising to be a dogwalker in your beloved's neighbourhood on the off chance they might pick up a flyer and say “Dasia... hmm, that sounds like the potential name of my future wife. I think I'll give her a call.” More often than not, that train's derailed successfully when I confirm that my beloved is a cock enthusiast whom I probably can't change with my love.

In Misha Collins' case, he's married, with a kid. Aw, that's nice. Wouldn't want to break up a family with my feminine wiles and mad dogwalking skills****, would I? Of course not. What's his wife like? She's a psychologist. She looks smart. They must be happy. Oh, she wrote a book.

About threesomes.

Lord, give me strength. How am I supposed to get over this guy when I know that he and his smart wife regularly invite guest stars into their bed? Excuse me while I book a stow-away spot on a fishing boat to LA.

Oh, um, looks like I’ve let the squee out of its pen and now it’s running around unchecked. Something negative, something critical… well, for one thing I imagine that like anyone smart and witty, Misha Collins can really be a bitch when he wants to be. But that’s purely conjecture, seeing as googling “Misha Collins being a bitch” didn’t yield any relevant results – in fact, the very first entry that came up was titled ‘Misha Collins is a sexy bitch.’

Damn right he is.

*Make sure to stress the 'ed' : checkED squee. Now say it five times fast.

**For a long time I thought this acronym was in the MILF family, and sprained some creative muscles trying to figure out what it meant... BAMF... big... ass... must... f-?! No. It stands for BadAss MotherFluffer.

***I know I can't. Shut up.

****My skills are mad, not that I can walk mad dogs. Which I can't. Or regular dogs. Any proclamations of mad dogwalking skills are false.

NOTE: This entry includes 2 pictures that aren't copyrighted to me. I found both via google - one on blogspot, the other on tumblr, and credit wasn't stated in either 'original' location. I'd love to credit, so if you have original credits, please let me know! And Misha, if you're reading this, fuck off, no you're not.


EDITED TO ADD:

Hey there, blog wanderer!

Thanks for visiting, but if you're looking for something a little fresher, go visit my new site ThatDasia.com.

Here you'll find my YouTube videos, new blog posts, reviews, social media insights and even my freelance offerings.

See you there!