Rumpelstiltskin (Robert Carlyle) whisks his new housekeeper Belle (Emile de Ravin) away from her father.

My viewing experience of “Once Upon A Time” is tainted, by expectation. I want it to be LOST. It’s creators want it to be LOST, and it never will be.

Last week I gladly declared that OUAT had found its identity and had squandered many of its pretensions and simply tried to be a damn good time. But this week, Kitsis/Horowitz seemed like a needy child tugging at its mother’s pant leg. I thought they were beyond seeking approval. All the Easter eggs and insider jokes like the Apollo Bars and the McCutcheon whiskey were just tributes to the landmark series they took part in. However with Emile de Ravin’s appearance as Belle (yes, of Beauty and the Beast fame) I wonder if Eddy Kitsis and Adam Horowitz, harbor a repressed need to catch lightning in a bottle again.

Surely, De Ravin’s guest appearance is simply an isolated homage, and lofty aspirations haven’t bogged down this creative team. Except, LOST is not the only acclaimed drama to catch OUAT’s wandering eye. They’ve snatched talent like Jennifer Morrison from “House,” Giancarlo Esposito from “Breaking Bad,” and tonight they made a “Game of Thrones” pun by naming a flower shop, “Game of Thorns.” I can’t decide whether it is endearing or desperate.

Much like some classic LOST episodes, tonight’s OUAT was a reveal episode. There was still a fairyback, one brought to life thanks to all those Disney rights! Ah, ABC, you treat them well. And there was “progress” in Storybrooke. But the real meat of the plot came during a two minute interaction between Mr. Gold and Regina where it was finally acknowledged that they both know of their former lives and evil power struggle. She goes all Destiny’s Child, “Say your name!” And he admits to awareness of “other worlds.” This wasn’t presented as a huge deal, it wasn’t even the final reveal of the episode, but it is a revelation with implications for the series at large. It is out in the open now, and if he knows the questions become, will he be a roadblock for Emma and Henry’s plans to enlighten the townsfolk (for my Losties, “Desmond-style”) or could he prove a formidable ally?

I was predisposed to be enthralled with tonight’s fairyback. Beauty and the Beast is almost certainly in my top three Disney flicks of all time (excluding Pixar) and Claire was one of my many beloved Oceanic 815ers so Emile de Ravin had me hooked with little effort. We’re introduced to the heroine as she stews by her father’s side, worried their village will be sacked as the Ogre Wars rage on (Am I the only one who would be fascinated by a detailed history of the events leading up to these wars?). I was mildly disappointed her dad was a rich, lordly fellow instead of an eccentric inventor. Anyway, Rumpelstiltskin appears as the solution to their suffering, promising to save their town in exchange for Belle’s services as his permanent housekeeper. Her betrothed, Gaston, insists she stay, but Belle is intent on breaking away from the social constraints of womanhood, seizing the opportunity to be heroic. She elects to go with Rumpy, much to his delight.

In the real world, there was much less interesting fare. Mr. Gold is robbed by a florist, Mr. French, after Gold nabs his van as collateral. Gold seems awfully upset over one particular item that Sheriff Swan hadn’t yet recovered and threatens that if she doesn’t detain Mr. French, he will get to him first. When he does, he beats the florist with his cane for information on the whereabouts of this item. He starts screaming about “her” and how it’s his fault that, “she is gone.” When he refuses to divulge the entire truth to Emma, he is cuffed.

In a Storybrooke subplot, Ashley returns. Who? Oh, that pregnant girl who is Cinderella in Fairy Tale Land (FTL). She’s overtired from taking care of the baby because her baby daddy Shawn is always at work being the breadwinner. Ruby (FTL identity: Red Riding Hood) suggest that she and Mary Margaret join her for a ladies night on the town. Both agree, especially Mary Margaret who’s once again unsatisfied by only being a part-time lover to David, who is still carrying on with his wife, Kathryn. I normally care about those two lovebirds, but the developments felt so wedged in, that I became detached. Next week their affair will come to a head when Kathryn finds out.

At Rumpy’s castle, Belles settles in after feeling initially weary about handing over her life to a “monster.” But as the “tale as old as time” foretold, Rumpy begins to treat her nicely, even pardoning her when she chips a cup. This is of course an allusion to “Chip” from Disney’s incarnation of the tale. You might say this reference made me groan, but I shall not complain as I promised last week. Rumpy begins to fall for her first, turning Gaston into a rose for his sweetheart when he comes to her rescue. Then, Belle’s opinion of her master (kinky) shifts when she falls from a ladder into his arms (the editing and VFX in this scene are ATROCIOUS). She begins to probe him for information about his past, when he was a man. She yearns to know the man she will serve forever better. In a move to test her affection for him, Rumpy asks Belle to go into town for more straw. If she comes back, he will tell her the story of the son he lost. He expressed that he expects her to never come back.

On her journey she runs into the Evil Queen. EQ informs her that her master’s curse will be broken, and his humanity restored if he receives true love’s kiss. Knowing that his beastly features and evil within can be eroded she returns to him. But when she shares true love’s kiss with Rumpy, he resists the change. He suspects her to be an agent of the EQ, trying to remove his powers, to weaken him. For her treason, Belle is thrown in the dungeon. After a tantrum in which the only glassware spared is the chipped cup, he releases her, never wanting to see her again. She calls him a coward as his son had when he killed to protect him, a genuine callback and reference that felt the most organic and essential of any they’ve attempted.

Shakeups in Storybrooke abound when Ashley accepts Shawn’s marriage proposal and Mary Margaret bumps into David. He hands her a V-day card, but accidentally hands her one addressed to Kathryn. This tips the scales for MM and she observes that they will find a way to be together, but this isn’t it. Back at SBPD, Regina bribes Emma with a half hour visit with Henry (this wouldn’t strike her as odd…awful sheriff….and where’s mystery writer/biker dude?) in order to converse with Mr. Gold. She confesses to encouraging Mr. French to rob him, asking that he bring her back…his chipped cup. She held this as leverage so that Gold would speak his FTL name. It’s a fun scene that recalls the legend that surrounds his name. As I mentioned before, this revelation that they both know could add a layer of mixed allegiances or simply heighten the risks involved in Emma and Henry’s pursuit of the truth.

While Rumpy slumps at his spindle over his reluctance to allow love in his heart, for fear of rejection, EQ visits hoping they can strike another deal. When he is not in the mood he accuses her outright of ruining their relationship. She cryptically answers that she had nothing to do with “that tragedy.” Puzzled, Rumps asks of what she speaks. EQ shares that upon returning home, her father had shunned her. He learned of her love for “The Beast” and has banished to a tower where clerics will cleanse her soul. Distraught, she threw herself out of the tower, falling to her death. This explains the sentimental value surrounding the cup in the real world, it’s all he had left of her. Or so he thinks. The very last scene of the episode shows Regina entering a secret wing of the hospital where “Belle” is locked up. What repercussions could this have for their eternal power struggle? I’m unsure, but again it opens up the dimensions for the real world adding a darker tinge to the episodes to follow. Gold, like EQ may not want to go back to FTL, but they want to vanquish each other. The more moral ambiguity that can be infused in these classics, the better. And with the sporadic investment in real world proceedings before this, another reason to care wouldn’t hurt.

Nearly all the real world happenings felt inconsequential. This irrelevant quality took a sharp 180 toward the end, but I can’t discount my utter boredom beforehand. Ashley had been gone for so long, her engagement felt like a formality. And when I start feeling blase about any plot point that involves Mary Margaret you know it hasn’t been well rendered. Despite these clear narrative shortcomings, it was pleasant to step into the world of “Beauty and the Beast” again, and it’s always a pleasure to watch Emile de Ravin smile sheepishly at me (ok, in my general direction). For it’s sheer entertainment value, and for effectively (and finally) incorporating the gritty, tragic elements of the FTL futility into the thrust of the Storybrooke setting, OUAT regresses but swings its pendulum in a positive direction with a B-.

King Leopold (Richard Schiff of "The West Wing") dotes on his daughter, Snow (Ginnifer Goodwin).

Is there anything freer than knowing exactly who you are? You have nothing to prove, because your expectations are much more reasonable and whenever you create, or work, or do what it is you do, you do it with a exactness that no one else could ever conceive of.

Well, “OUAT,” I believe, has found that sweet spot. They have embraced an identity, and it falls short of many great shows on television. I can provide you with 10 better written shows, and I can find you ten shows that I certainly look up to more for their innovation and artistry. Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz worked on one of those before, “LOST.” If you have read my reviews you know how much I adored, and still carry great affection for, that show. Despite it being the one show my dad and I will never watch together, and while my opinions contrasts with those who loathed the final five minutes of the series finale so severely that it ruined the entire journey before it, it is undoubtedly, one for the history books. OUAT, will never be LOST. OUAT wishes they had the privilege of “LOST’s” club of flaws. However, OUAT has a lightness to it now, as if they have dropped the burden of expectations and have decided to care less about being great, and want to a force of its own will. “Once Upon A Time” will make me groan weekly with its insisting witticisms connecting their dual realms, but beyond today I will note them no longer (but seriously, referring to a plan to expose Regina as reaching for the fruit of the poisonous tree, COME ON!) because it’s charming just how little they wish to please me. And now that they have stopped catering to some false sense of importance, it has become more enjoyable, more effortlessly engaging, and more goddamed fun.

Although tonight, my patience was tried within mere minutes of the still lame title sequence (this isn’t a haunted house show, let’s be real). Lana Parilla is a clearly attractive woman in her own right, and I’m sure come Emmy season I will be scraping my jaw off the floor after she has walked onto the red carpet, but any chemistry we had has been killed by her shrewish attitude on the show. I’m sure that is how she has been directed to be, but why couldn’t she be more seductive. Isn’t the purest evil the kind that sneaks up behind you because you trusted it would never harm you? Well, it seems the show may be in the business of granting wishes. I say this not just because “The Genie” from Aladdin lore is the subject of tonight’s fairyback, but because in said fairyback, the Queen effectively seduced me.

But not before she made my balls shrink up inside me with condescensions like, “He’ll have a cracked cranium if you aren’t careful,” or “It’s time to be responsible Ms. Swan.” These gems and more are a part of a barrage of berating remarks by Regina, aimed at Emma, after she finds her and Henry playing at a now dilapidated playground (Henry’s castle) after the storm hit it. Emma, initially, is willing to let her usual overreaching roll off. Then she hits up Granny’s. Here we find Gus (damn, still not Breaking Bad, huh), I mean Sidney Glass, editor of the Storybrooke Mirror throwing back whiskeys for breakfast. Turns out he has a grudge with Regina too. After he was humiliated at the sheriff elections he decided to expose her for the corrupt mayor she is, to no avail. She found him out and fired him. Now, Sidney’s looking to partner up with Emma to take her down through some good old dirt-digging. Emma declines, claiming she wants to take her down without getting her hands dirty, but when she sees Henry’s playground is demolished and his book (THE BOOK) missing from its hiding place, she decides all bets are off.

As mentioned, we meet Genie this week who is Sidney’s alter ego (played by the supremely talented Giancarlo Esposito, who found his career-defining role as Gus in AMC’s “Breaking Bad”). As we know from prior installments (so don’t be shocked) Sidney is the magic mirror to Regina’s Evil Queen. This sets up easily the show’s most effective twist on conventional fairy tales, The Genie becomes the mirror. And despite this nugget not being concealed, I was still enthralled by the how of it all. The genie is summoned from the lamp and appears before King Leopold, father of Snow White. Esposito’s take on Genie is refreshing, he too wishes to be broken from the shackles of his gig, but this Genie isn’t masking his longing with cheer and improvisational humor. This guy is unenthused and apathetic. He recites his spiel about his magic’s limitations sans gusto. Being a kind royal, who wants for nothing (though it’s much easier to be humble when you’re royalty though) Leopold wishes for Genie’s freedom, a gesture that delights our not-so-blue friend. With his second wish he grants that his third wish be given to the Genie to use. Genie is again grateful, but asserts he will never use it. He’s granted 1001 wishes, and all of them have had grave consequences. Without much purpose to pair with his newfound liberty, Leopold offers to make him a member of his court where he’s certain he’ll find the one wish Genie cannot grant for himself, true love.

Making a brief appearance in the real world is Mary Margaret who meets up with David for a surprise picnic at the place where they first met, the ever-romantic toll bridge. Mary Margaret, amidst a flurry of kisses, wonders if they should face the reality that he is married, but David just wants to love her guilt-free so they push worry off to tomorrow. Mary Margaret also delivers possibly the funniest line of the night, when she see Sidney and Emma sifting through public records to discover any seeds of wrongdoing: “Yeah, maybe you’re doing something wrong, but if it’s right and it’s meant to be, does that make you a bad person?” Ha! Oh, Mary Margaret, even when you’re a mistress tortured by guilt and shame, you’re cute as a button. Meanwhile, Sidney seems convinced that this $50,000 of unappropriated funds will be the Mayor’s undoing, the “crack in the mirror” (ughhhhh…but I’m letting go…). When Emma questions why Sidney ever got in her pocket in the first place he more organically alludes to the parallel story, “I used to think she was a different person.”

Here we start to feel for Evil Queen (EQ). At some festivity, we see the King waxing philosophic about his daughter’s unmatched beauty, but then he strikes at EQ’s self-esteem saying Snow is a constant reminder of his “fairest of them all” first wife, and her mother. EQ has no place in his court, or in his heart. She is trapped in an essentially loveless marriage, or at least one where she will always play second fiddle. Genie runs after her into her courtyard where the soon-to-be poisonous apple tree grows. He lifts her spirits by gifting her a mirror, so that she may see what he sees, the true “fairest of them all.”

In Storybrooke, Emma confronts Regina directly about the missing funds. Regina is quick with an alibi, saying the record of the transaction was burned in the fire that got her elected. While leaning against her desk, Emma plants a bug so she can intercept some clue of where she allocated the money. When she overhears a phone call about a roadside meeting, she and Sidney spring into action. While heading to the location, the brakes fail on Emma’s car and Sidney immediately notices they were tampered with and that Regina must have discovered the bug. Coincidentally, Mr. Gold is out by the roadside. He informs them that the mayor met with him to buy his land. He also warns about emotional entanglements, and how they can distort the truth and people will get hurt. Unconvinced, Emma heads for Regina’s office and breaks in. She gathers any files related to the land grab off her computer, but not before running into Regina herself. Emma, quick-witted, conjures up a tale about a teenage prank that Sidney had witnessed. Across town, we also get a short glimpse of Mysterious Writer/ Biker Dude who bumps into Henry who is trying to record the details of THE BOOK, in case it isn’t found. When “Oh Precocious One” grills the man with the box about why he is here, he mocks the child, “Stuff.”

The Evil Queen’s father makes a surprise visit, dropping in on Genie when he expected a rendezvous with the Queen. The King has pilfered his wife’s diary and has knowledge about a man who has stolen her heart. He recognizes that he can never love EQ like she deserves, but he’s still aghast at her betrayal. He charges Genie, whom he trusts, to sniff out this mystery man. In response, EQ’s father has come to deliver his daughter a package, a way out of this prison of a life, an escape from her own form of servitude. When she opens the box we find two Agrabah vipers. For those with a working knowledge of Disney, Agrabah is the homeland of the Genie. EQ’s plan is to kill herself with one venomous bite, but Genie stops her. Clearly enamored with her, he offers to kill the king himself by setting the vipers loose on him. In this scene in particular we see another side of Regina/EQ, one who is stricken with sadness, but oozes sensuality as she brushes against Genie’s cheek and embraces him for his selflessness: a deep contrast to the shrill, unabashedly evil Regina that has inhabited every other episode. The added dimension is well executed and goes a long way to establishing a character we can invest in instead of just emphatically opposing.

Then the entanglements Mr. Gold forewarned of begin to unravel. At a city council meeting, Emma and Syndey speak up, exposing Regina’s plans to build a second home in the woods with taxpayer money. Unphased, Regina retorts she is indeed building a house. A PLAYHOUSE. OH SNAP! She circumvented the city governance so she could get the project underway quicker, so that the town’s children would have a safe place to play. Disgraced and defeated, Emma loses not just her plot for revenge, but Henry as well. Regina blackmails Emma with evidence that she did truly break-in to her office and bans her from seeing Henry for an undetermined period of time. The one ray of hope she clings to is that Sidney is her ally now, and no longer Regina’s spy. Earlier, he had pulled out a shoebox of photos he had taken of Emma while under Regina’s employ, tracking Emma’s every move so she could prevent her from getting close to Henry.

With a powerful ally, Emma has the strength she needs to stand up to Regina when the time is right. Except, the last scene of the episode suggest differently. Sidney is seated before a mirror in Regina’s office and he reports that “she bought it,” he has earned Emma’s trust and holds a tape recordings of all their meetings. Regina is as unstoppable as ever, now she can track the sheriff’s every move and will always be one step ahead. What seemed like a foregone conclusion, Emma’s penetration of Regina’s facade, now seems improbable. With a well-established network of watchful eyes, Regina seems to have an unrelinquishing grasp on her power, and Emma. Although, mysterious writer/biker dude may be the thorn in her side. We get a quick glimpse of the all-important box, the one that last week held a typewriter. Now it holds… THE BOOK! WHAAAAATTTTT? Stay tuned, as they say.

The twist with the most payoff though, was in the fairyback. Genie sicks the vipers on his dear friend and they both dig their fangs into his neck causing an almost instant death. In his last moments though, Genie expresses his regret. He acknowledges that he’s forever indebted for the freedom the king granted him, but that he had to do the same for his queen, and break her chains as well. And as the king’s life is sucked out, he reminds Genie of another way he could have freed her. His last wish from the map. Damn. Either Genie was too gosh darn stubborn or too caught up to use it, but that would have been a more civil route to go. When he rushes to his love’s side to tell her the good news, she appears in more despair than before. The guards know the vipers are of Genie’s homeland, and that he will be executed. She offers him safe passage, but Genie is connecting the dots. Of all the snakes she could have picked, she picked those from Agrabah. She set him up. She never loved him at all, and used him to kill the king. EQ acknowledges this, and erases any possibility he could ever be in her life. But Genie has his one last trick up his lamp. He uses his last wish to grant that he will be by her side always, and that every day he will look upon her. And the magic of FTL does grant him this. He is to be stuck inside her mirror for the rest of his life. The show has introduced a litany of grim ways that magic has haunted these characters that have relied on it for solutions to their ills, but never has it been more tragic than when this man, recently freed, is once again enslaved. But this time, it was of his own will. He could not live without her, now he certainly cannot.

“7:15 A.M” delivered for me last week, but with this episode coming in consecutive weeks, I’m sure that it was no fluke. Appealing to pathos once again, the show struck a chord by sticking with the cliched but proven conceit that love can be the grandest magic in the world, but it can also inflict the greatest of pains. The fate of unrequited love has never been pretty, and I’m glad OUAT was bold enough to confront it. For the second week in a row I have reason to celebrate the achievements of a series that has labored through much of its first few months for my approval, and frankly the approval of many critics. But I’m confident that this week many others will be singing it’s praises. Surely, Regina cannot become a totally different character and will continue to thwart any of my attempts to like her or root for her success, but I can’t imagine this show is striving for that sort of moral ambiguity. At any rate, for this week I was again delighted to delve into both worlds (more so with the FTL because of the world-building and tragedy), and I’m excited for where the series can go from here in defying expectation now that they are ironically freed from its constraints. For allowing the captivating Giancarlo Esposito the space to play, for expanding our conception of the Queen’s capabilities, and for feeling like the gust of fresh air the show set out to be at its inception, OUAT repeats its success with a second straight triumph over my preconceived notions. I mean, the dialogue is still wooden; and much of my interest in the real world activity is riding on potential plot threads, my parallel investment in the FTL, and my admiration for a few performances. No buts about it though, the “fruits” of their labor have earned them a B+.

Snow White (Ginnifer Goodwin) looking so darling it hurts, as a dove delivers her a message from her true love.

Readers, as I have mentioned in previous posts, I feel like we have a good thing going. I can share with you all the kinds of things one doesn’t divulge at dinner parties. I can open up to you with no fear of reprisal. Therefore, it is without hesitation that I confess to you…I’m a sucker for love stories. Yes, it’s true. I come off like a cynic, someone without a soft spot, someone who shuns things like cuddling and soul mates (because only those who believe in fate find pleasure in holding loved ones in their arms…icky). When you break down my grisly exterior, however, you will find a man who always cries at the end of The Notebook. A man who just last night screamed at his television while watching “Lost in Translation,” “What did Bill Murray whisper to Scarlett Johansson goddamit!” I am also the type of man who would dig tonight’s episode. One filled with the pain of unrequited affections, as well as the kind of forbidden romance you only find in fairy—son of a gun.

Needless to say, if they were looking for some good pub they came to the right…well, let’s pretend I have clout…critic. I was additionally surprised I enjoyed this episode so much because after last week’s turd in a punchbowl I was dreading this week. Perhaps if I watched previews I would have known we’d return to the only thing I’m invested in, Mary & David/Snow & Charming. Exacerbating my bias was the fact that Championship Sunday was as thrilling as its been in years. Both games decided by a field goal, one missed and one made. The second game was even in overtime. I found religion today and my Lord is the NFL. So how could this shaky family drama possibly hold my attention? First, by featuring the show’s best (never mind cutest) actors and by providing us with reasons to care about a relationship we already know is destined.

We resume with whom last week left us, scratching our heads, The Stranger. Or as I call him, Mysterious Biker Dude. Dude is fixing his chopper outside Regina and Henry’s residence when Oh Precocious One inquires as to what he is doing here? Dude smugly answers, “Fixing my bike,” and divulges no more information. Regina seems legitimately concerned that she doesn’t know who this guy is. Maybe he’s not connected with FTL (Fairy Tale Land) in any way? Also, there’s the whole stranger talking to my kid angle, so she may be onto something. From there, we enter the abode of the strong, sure-assured females (in all seriousness I suppose we should commend OUAT for portraying women with such agency in a show centered around stories that reenforce the most basic gender expectations) that save the show from vacuous oblivion, Mary Margaret and Emma. Mary Margaret wakes up in a tizzy because she is late. She claims she promised some of her students she’d help them with their science fair project (isn’t that cheating!) before school at 7:15. Emma scoffs that they can wait, and with one of the better lines, Mary replies, “Uh, we’re building a volcano.” Ha, because that’s a big deal, but not really. Get it? Okay, so I find Ginnifer Goodwin to be adorable. Sue me!

Turns out she isn’t meeting up with her students. Shocker, right? She sits down with a book at the coffee shop and pretends to read. Lo and behold, David walks through the door.She’s stalking him! How adorable! He says good morning, she asks how his job at the animal shelter is, he says the apes haven’t taken over yet. HA! Oh what a charming fellow. Well I’ll be they did it again! In FTL, he IS Charming. Oh dear. Anyway, she plays it off like it’s no thang and Emma walks in wondering where that volcano is. Mary fesses up that she comes at 7:15 A.M so that she can run into him. Aw…honey, he’s gonna file a restraining order! No, but Emma is much more supportive. She commiserates that love is indeed, the worst, and Mary sends us into the other realm with a you-can’t-miss-it cue: “I wish there was a magic cure.” Bet you can guess what the fairyback is about!

Thankfully, it isn’t quite that simplistic. We meet up with Snow as she is delivered her food run by Little Red Riding Hood. She also sneaks her intel about the upcoming royal wedding, in which “the love of her life whom she met but once” is the bridegroom. Snow agonizes like Mary about trying to forget that sexy-ass man. Red alludes that there might be a way, but chickens out. Snow then reminds her that she helped her when no one else would. This intrigued me because obviously the way to avoid becoming stale is to reinvent the familiar tales within an original mythology. The idea that there is an interconnectedness seems to be coming into focus so I don’t mind the vague references, for now. Not so surprisingly, good ole Rumpelstiltskin is the man with the drugs she needs to forget that one night stand with the rugged woodsman. When she finds Rumpy in a not at all shady dock covered in fog he provides her with a potion that will not only mend her broken heart, but she will forget who he is entirely. All he asks for is a strand of her hair. Either Rumpy has become a pedophile or maybe we should keep that in the back of our minds. Before she scurries off though, the impish dealmaker leaves her with parting words of wisdom, “Love is the most powerful magic there is. Love has killed more than any disease.”

Next, we pop in on the man of the hour, Prince James, who is peering out on his balcony broodingly. King George (Alan Dale, who played the wealthy and powerful Charles Widmore on “Lost”) presents him with a peace offering, a crown crafted by King Midas, his soon to be father-in-law. As fans of the show may remember, four episodes ago Prince James agreed to marry Kind Midas’ daughter Abigail as a show of good faith that they would enter an allegiance that benefits the prosperity of both kingdoms. James is sprung on Snow though, and resents his adoptive father for forcing him into forsaking her. He mocks the Midas crown rebuking that, “You could feed the kingdom for an entire winter with that crown.” Ugh, so he’s one of those annoying 99 percenters, huh? In all seriousness, I was mildly enthralled by the politics of it all, and how the King talked about the responsibility that comes with all that wealth. On another show, it might have carried more weight, but here it establishes the futility of Snow and Charming ever resuming their tryst. Ever persistent, James sends a dove with a letter for Snow. Like carrier pigeons, but more regal. The note reaches Snow just before she is about to down her potion. What she reads gives her renewed faith that they can be together, despite the odds. He asks her to come to his room that night so he knows she feels as strongly as he does.

While Mary is shopping for Apollo chocolate bars (a nod to the made-up brand featured in “Lost”) she bumps into Kathryn, David’s wife. As they sort through their stuff she stumbles upon a pregnancy test. She leaves and goes to clear her by walking though the woods (aw, the parallels) and hears a dove trapped in some wiring. It’s the same goddamn dove isn’t it. Yup, and even cheesier, when she brings the injured bird to the animal shelter (wait David works th—I know!) the doctor tells her that physically the bird will heal, but this particular dove is of a breed that develops highly monogamous relationships. If not reunited with her flock, she will be forever alone. Oh my god! The bird is just like MARY! Yeah, that hammer in your head isn’t a headache, it’s OUAT writers cramming in a metaphor.

Mary runs off, feeling akin to the bird’s struggle (I don’t know why their paths don’t intersect, like, at all) wanting to give the dove a chance at finding its loved ones. Mary slips and falls, barely hanging on to a cliff’s edge when DAVID ARRIVES! Convenient, yes. But he apparently followed her out of concern from the shelter. The cliff being a metaphor for her hanging onto feelings for David though? Kind of a stretch, don’t you think? Then like clockwork the rain comes down and they take shelter in an abandoned cabin. At this point, I grew worried this might be the beginning of a tremendously high-budget porno. Instead, Mary admits why she’s been so distant. It’s too painful to see him when they can’t be together. And yet she tortures herself by going to the coffee shop ay 7:15 every morning to see him. He laughs. “I go to the coffee shop at 7:15 every morning to see you.” My eyes rolled and I recited the line as he said it. Clearly telegraphed. And yet, it worked.

I can’t explain it, I just care about these darn kids, and I want them to be happy. The chemistry between the actors is palpable, Ginnifer is ridiculously cute as mentioned, and honestly they didn’t have to try so hard. As the kiss we all needed to relive our sexual tension was upon us, Mary thwarted it. She can’t break up Kathryn and David especially when they might be having a baby. David was unaware, but it changes things. They have to forget each other. Despite the new stakes, he resists. He explains the duality inside him in obvious terms that allude to the curse, but it nails the sentiment for me as it evokes the central question of the series thus far, “Who’s to say which one is real?” I won’t detail this theory again, but I still hope the show is moving toward this question about whether happily ever afters are not all they are cracked up to be, and that maybe it is only in the “real world” that we can find something genuinely worthwhile.

As Snow attempts to sneak into King George’s castle, Snow is locked up. Her cellmate? GRUMPY (Lee Arenberg, as seen in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies)! Grumpy tells Snow a hell of a tale about how he ended up there, blinded by love, and due to their instantaneous camaraderie, he breaks her out when his pal, Stealthy (the awesomest eight dwarf) springs him. As luck would have it, the eight dwarf doesn’t last long (gee, wonder what the point was cutting them to seven) and is killed by an arrow. Snow leverages Grumpy’s freedom for her own capture and King George presents her with an impossible choice. Either she tells the Prince that she does not love him, or Charming gets the ax. He reasons that if an assassin kills the Prince he will be viewed as a martyr and Midas will keep the alliance in his sacrifice. Because she doesn’t want to harm the one she loves, Snow lets him down easy. Not at all actually. “Fill your heart with love for someone else, someone who can love you the way I never have. The way I never will.” BOOM. He cries, she cries when she walks away, but she gains friends in the now seven dwarves. Grumpy also offers up some pretty sound advice for the grieving beauty, “I don’t want want my pain erased. It’s what makes me who I am. It makes me…Grumpy.” Yeah, it’s hokey. And when it’s supposed to be heartfelt you are focused on the pun, but it is an apt lesson about heartbreak.

While all the heartbreaking and mending is happening we do learn a bit about The Stranger too. Played by Eion Bailey,  he’s a charismatic fellow, but he’s also a sarcastic bastard. Perfect for Emma, who has a witty repartee with him. He agrees to tell her what is in his case if she shows him hers. Nah, but he does want to buy her a drink sometime. So she agrees and he reveals a typewriter. He’s a pretentious douchebag writer who stills uses a typewriter. He finds inspiration in the whimsy of Storybrooke, I guess. But when Emma asks if he has been there before, he evades the question.

The episode that jerked my heart around then ends with two last rips at my sensitivity and further emasculates me by making me care. Kathryn and David attempt to reconcile in a touching scene where both put their cards on the table and agree to do marriage counseling with Dr. Hopper/Jiminy Cricket. He also makes the conscious choice to avoid the coffee shop at 7:15. Mary, reluctantly does the same, Emma holding her hand through it. When they both decided enough time has passed it is 7:45, and they both run into each other anyway. Again, OBVIOUS metaphor for fate, but it was exactly the sort of chance resolution we all wanted deep down. They realize it is useless, they can’t avoid each other. What follows is both exactly what I might have dreamed of and not what I wanted at all. David blurts out, “Kathryn isn’t pregnant,” and with that particular barrier gone they kiss like it’s Smooch City, spinning around like nobody is watching, except someone totally is! Regina! How could they be so careless! Clearly, both of them aren’t concerned about Kathryn at all. It sort of invalidated the whole struggle before that with such an easy payoff, that didn’t involve any real shifts in circumstance from where we started. Except Regina’s got blackmail to spare. What a witch.

But then they did this. Prince Charming atop his trusty steed speeds through the forest and happens upon Snow’s cottage. Red Riding Hood is there instead and he professes that it matters not what Snow said, he won’t give up. If it wasn’t meant to be, he would seem mad clingy. The wedding is off! Cut to the dwarves hovel, where Grumpy rushes in to Snow’s bedroom to give her the great news that the and that her love awaits. Snow appears groggy. She turns to him. “Who?” She tried to find solace at the bottom of the vial. Completely ignoring Grumpy’s whole spiel about using the pain to make you stronger, she gave in and downed the whole love vaccine. NOW WHAT?

This was my favorite episode so far. No doubt. Here’s why. In ten episodes, I’ve come to terms with a few things. One, for whatever reason, the effects on this show make “Lost”  look like a feature film. This week, when they were walking through the caverns under the castle, and when the Prince rode his horse through the woods, the edges around the actors was ablaze with digital blur. Second, the dialogue is corny as hell. And not subtle. The juxtapostion of the worlds will be pointed out brutally, as if I forgot what show I was watching. And subtext will likely be zero to none. Actually, I hope it will be from hereon. The metaphors they tried in this episode were laughably inelegant. The bird, the storm, the cliff. I practically wrote those in fourth grade. But regardless of all these shortcomings I enjoyed the time spent. There were sudden reversals of fortune, there was an ending in the FTL that felt a tad Shakespearean in how it seemed tragically unavoidable, and above all it made me care about Mary/David & Snow/Charming to an embarrassing degree that I wouldn’t acknowledge outside this column. If OUAT can keep me invested in what becomes of these people, as their journey towards salvation or simple happiness becomes murky on the horizon, I will stay the course. This show will probably never be great, or win a prestigious award, but if it accomplishes this level of legitimate   feeling regularly it will be fun, and a hit, among a wide range of audiences. If this were a show with higher expectations this would be marked down more severely for its inattention to detail, but for its most appealing episode to date and for making me break down as if Taylor Swift were my gospel, I begrudgingly admit this was a B+.

Love triangles. Desperate women. Desperate men. Lots of tears. It sounds more fitting for 3 p.m. on ABC, but it all comes together on the screen in “He’s Just Not That Into You,” a fictional story based on a non-fiction advice book “He’s Just Not That Into You: The No-Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys” by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo.

Let me save you two hours: If you’re a single guy (me) you’re going to come out of this movie feeling hopeless (though why you’d go see this movie, I do not know). If you’re a single girl, you’ll come out of this movie with a rejuvenated sense of hope. If you’re gay, you’ll just laugh (the gay angle makes more sense after you see the movie). And if you’re a guy in a relationship going to see this movie with your girlfriend, you’re not going to get any that night.

Try to absorb all this:

The movie opens on Gigi, (Ginnifer Goodwin) a desperately single woman who goes out with greasy real estate agent Conor (Kevin Connolly). Conor never calls Gigi after their first date, but Gigi sits by the phone hoping beyond hope that he’ll call. She eventually decides to “casually stroll into” Conor’s usual bar hangout where she meets bar manager Alex (Justin Long — the Mac guy) who takes poor Gigi under his wing, explaining, deftly and darkly, the true nature of guy-girl interactions.

Queue Ben (Bradley Cooper) and Janine (Jennifer Connelly), the token married couple in the film. They are pouring their yuppie dollars into renovating brownstone when Ben gets tempted by a yoga instructor-come-singer named Anna (Scarlett Johansson). Conor is in love with Anna, and they are technically dating, but Anna treats Conor like a best friend — ergo, she doesn’t screw him anymore. Anna gets bad advice from her best friend Mary (Drew Barrymore) who works in advertising sales for a gay lifestyle magazine. Anna decides to pursue the married Ben.

Then we have Neil (Ben Affleck) and Beth (Jennifer Aniston) who have been together for seven years but aren’t married, despite Beth’s desire and the fact that all her sisters are already married off. Neil is Ben’s best friend.

Finally, Mary is struggling with her own pseudo-single-ness, dealing with guys that text message, web chat, and MySpace her instead of call. Facebook would have made the movie seem less “2005.”

The whole shtick takes place in modern Baltimore, and it’s nice to see a city besides New York and Los Angeles portrayed.

The movie has an undoubtedly all-star cast. Affleck and Aniston seem like elder statesmen, and each give strong performances. In many ways, this is a break out film for both Justin Long and Ginnifer Goodwin. “He’s Just Not That Into You” was the #1 movie Friday night, with more than $10.5 million coming in at the box office.

Goodwin was (albeit purposefully) a little annoying, and Long seems to try just a bit too hard to sell his character as a chick magnet, but it’s obvious as the baton gets passed to these two young stars and that we have more to expect from them down the line.

The movie was full of “awwww’s” and hateful hisses from the largely female audience which really got emotionally invested in the film. It was a bit too long at 2:10, but that’s not surprising considering how many stories the ending had to tie up.

Scarlett Johansson plays a skank surprisingly well and comes off particularly sexy, even for her, and especially considering the shockingly wholesome temperature of the entire movie.

It’s a total chick flick, and “He’s Just Not That Into You” isn’t a movie made to please critics.

Playing to its base it does well.