I've watched 3 episodes of this show so far, and correct me if I'm wrong here, but the entire population of Glory Island (with the exception of one nosy writer with too much free time on his hands, one dumb-as-dirt cop, and one cute-but-kooky coroner) apparently consists entirely of crazed serial killers. Every week there's a bizarre series of kidnappings, murders, or what have you, and every week we're treated to a handful of never-before-encountered suspects to choose from.
Of course, all you have to do is disregard the red herrings tossed clumsily into your path and instead pick the one who seems the most harmless, the most friendly, and most sane. Sure enough, by the end of the show he or she will be ranting incoherently as they try to do our hero in with a speargun or weed-whacker. Ho-hum. Nab the bad guy and reset everything back to the way it was at the outstart of the episode.
But why even bother trying to identify the lunatic de jour? Next week there'll be some other nutjob with a deep, dark, secret axe to grind. Let all the psychos run amok; the law of averages says that eventually they'll all start bumping each other off. Just as "Murder, She Wrote's" quaint little town of Cabbot Cove grew to become the murder capital of the county over the course of a decade, Glory Island is destined to become the maniac mecca of the U.S. God, forget solving all these picayune mysteries and just drop a nuke on the place already. Worried about fallout? All right, get a crop-duster full of thorazine and seed the clouds over the island. Or even better yet, start writing campaign to get the plug pulled on this unimaginative, uninnovative, and downright tedious waste of time and film.
Of course, all you have to do is disregard the red herrings tossed clumsily into your path and instead pick the one who seems the most harmless, the most friendly, and most sane. Sure enough, by the end of the show he or she will be ranting incoherently as they try to do our hero in with a speargun or weed-whacker. Ho-hum. Nab the bad guy and reset everything back to the way it was at the outstart of the episode.
But why even bother trying to identify the lunatic de jour? Next week there'll be some other nutjob with a deep, dark, secret axe to grind. Let all the psychos run amok; the law of averages says that eventually they'll all start bumping each other off. Just as "Murder, She Wrote's" quaint little town of Cabbot Cove grew to become the murder capital of the county over the course of a decade, Glory Island is destined to become the maniac mecca of the U.S. God, forget solving all these picayune mysteries and just drop a nuke on the place already. Worried about fallout? All right, get a crop-duster full of thorazine and seed the clouds over the island. Or even better yet, start writing campaign to get the plug pulled on this unimaginative, uninnovative, and downright tedious waste of time and film.