People, have you been watching Harper’s Island? Because holycrapyoumust. When I saw the previews, I thought it actually seemed like it could be a cool show, and a neat concept…an eight week long (or whatever it is) murder mystery, very Agatha Christie. And for those of us with the attention span of a what was I talking about again?, I liked the fact that it’s pre-packaged with an end date, so you know ahead of time that you won’t watch for endless hours wondering where the hell it’s going (are you listening, LOST?).
Well, it’s not a cool show. I mean, it is, but only because it’s so fabulously, tackily, soapily terrible. On the first episode (spoilers! if you care!) the bridal party was about to leave for a week on the island where seven years ago a crazy person killed a bunch of people blah blah scary music. Before they set sail for The Island That In Reality Nobody Would Ever Go Back To, they’re casually wondering where cousin Eddie is. Anyone seen him? Hmm, oh well, more champagne? Must’ve been a second cousin, because they’re anchors away, and OH SNAP, Eddie is totally strapped to the propeller. Bye buddy. The least they could’ve done is text you before they took off.
Also, in the first episode, the drunk uncle (Harry Hamlin!) is staggering across a rickety bridge in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night. The bridge breaks, his legs fall through, and as he’s trying to pull himself up, his TORSO IS DEMOLISHED! Well, naturally. Because apparently the mystery killer is a T-Rex.
The bride, randomly played by David Cassidy’s daughter, is possibly the hottest woman on TV besides Cobie Smulders. Her family is awesome because they’re rich which means they’re cold, mean, plotting, and none of them have to work, ever. And their last name is, of course, Wellington. The dad is trying to get the bride’s ex, one smoldering piece of man meat named Hunter Jennings, to come back and rip his baby away from the grubby clutches of the middle-class groom, who is not an acceptable match because he is not cold, mean, plotting, and presumably does have to work.
We also need to discuss Hunter Jennings for a minute. HUNTER JENNINGS, y’all. Was there ever a better name for a chiseled, shadow-dwelling ex-boyfriend? With whom the bride used to make lots of bad naked decisions?
One of the main characters, a friend of the groom’s, is my pick for the killer. She’s mousy and paranoid and doesn’t have pupils. The groom has a creepy brother who could double for that Wedding Crashers guy, you know, “the painting was a gift, Todd, I’m taking it with me.” One of the characters has The Quintessential Creepy Ass Long Brown Haired Adolescent Daughter who whispers evil things but somehow no one around her loses their shit. It’s all “Oh, that Madison, what an imp,” as her head spins around and pea soup hits the walls.
I’m so excited to find out who gets their spinal column ripped out next. And if there ends up being a hatch and polar bears and time travel, then so help me, I will… well, I guess I’ll just blog about it. But angrily! And in ALL CAPS!
the cupcake tent 
You do realize that if it’s this spectacularly awful, they will probably cancel it after three episodes, right? If you’re lucky, however, they’ll release them all on DVD, and you can watch the whole thing in one craptastic marathon!
I’m kind of embarrassed to say that we’ve been watching this at my house, too. It was available to watch instantly on Netflix, so we saw the first few episodes that way and have now caught up to the show. It is so, so bad, but I just cannot stop watching. And did you see Saturday’s episode and the murder of the week? (Can we start calling it MOTW, since we know there is at least one every week?) How completely absurd (by which I mean great) was that?