Thor: Ragnarok: Weird Avenger

Through the entirety of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, its main players have managed to not only fulfill their individual role but also stick completely to them (Iron Man is the smart one, Captain America is the wet blanket). While this helps viewers relate to these characters by humanizing them, the one Avenger that never quite manages this humanity is the most obvious: Thor the Thunder God. While the rest of the universe tries to maintain some semblance of varied reality, Thor is more a super powered version of Flash Gordon (insane plotlines, goofy villains, unintentionally hilarious dialogue). Apparently realizing this wonky 70s vibe of the series, director Taika Waititi (that name's just fun to write) has decided to just take the whole concept, crank the crazy up as far as possible and roll with it. The result: the best Thor movie currently on the market.

Yes, Thor: Ragnarok, despite being the third entry in what is considered to be the least interesting Avenger movies, is awesome. The plot is ridiculously fun, the improvisational script is hilarious and Loki (Tom Hiddleston) continues to be both the most relateable villain (he just wants what he thinks is his) and, perhaps, the greatest anti-hero Marvel has yet to offer (he's still capable of good deeds even if they do not benefit him). Throw in a continuing-to-improve Chris Hemsworth as a more relateable Thor (he's funny because of the fish-out-of-water aspect) and the previously mentioned wonky 70s aesthetic that complements the Thor mythos so well and you have what the Thor movies should have been from the beginning: a quirky, almost-joking story about a thunder god who fights evil with a hilariously tiny hammer and his awesome hair. Hey, stupid fun is still fun in my book.

Unfortunately, despite the mostly stellar cast, the movie ultimately suffers from having too many stars at the top. Odin (Anthony Hopkins) and Doctor Stranger (Benedict Cumberbatch) are both criminally underused in this entry and, probably because it runs north of two hours, the movie tends to drag around segments not tightly related to the actual plot (the Hulk Arena bit is overlong and outstays its welcome). Throw in a rather jarring transition mechanic that leaves too many dangling threads (your invested in a sequence that abruptly stops for something less interesting) and you have a movie that mostly nails it but can't seem to stick the landing where it counts. You're already awesome, movie! You don't have to drag yourself down for the sake of the boring side plots.

As for watching it, got anything better to do? While Ragnarok remains in my mind as the best of the Thor trilogy, it will likely benefit this weekend from a complete lack of competition. Do you love the Avengers movies and follow them religiously? You've seen this one at least three more times than I have. Do you hate superhero movies in general? Chances are nothing I say will convince you and this isn't the movie for that. Do you like the weird 70s and 80s sci-fi (Flash Gordon, Tron)? This is a loving homage to that era and that's the best compliment I can give it.

Taika Waititi (What We Do In The Shadows) expands upon his Team Thor web shorts with Thor: Ragnarok, a colorful, mostly great look at what would happen if Thor got trapped in a Pink Floyd album and just rolled with it. What do I say without spoiling anything? Thor (Hemsworth) gets into a pickle involving his sister and death goddess Hela (Cate Blanchett) and must find a way to save his people. Along the way, Hulk (Mark Ruffalo) will smash things, Loki (Hiddleston) will have humorous flashbacks from the first Avengers movie and you won't be able to get Led Zeppelin's “Immigrant Song” out of your head for the foreseeable future. Thank you, Marvel?

My score: 8/10. Is it weird that this movie makes me kind of nostalgic for the 1984 sci-fi movie The Dungeonmaster? Probably weird...

Stranger Things Season 2: More like Season 1.5 (in a good way)

Due to the fact that most current horror movies treading around movie theaters are either some version of a shameless retread (Jigsaw), a shameless cash grab sequel (Insidious 4), a shameless attempt to show off non-existent talent in a failed attempt at relevancy (Tyler Perry's Boo 2!) or a pretty awesome comedy that totally tricks you into believing its just another run-of-the-mill horror flick (Happy Death Day), how about I just review a TV show for a change? Sound good? Good! Here's Stranger Things Season 2.

The thing most critics, and, as a byproduct, most viewers, of the Netflix original series Stranger Things seemed to like about its first season was usually built more around what it wasn't (an E.T./Stephen King hybrid) than what it actually was (a confidence-free, bygone-era sci-fi series that ran too short and had little real need to exist in the first place). Regardless of the quality that Season 1 actually displayed, most people tended to roll over themselves either praising a poorly written throwaway character (Shannon Purser's Barbara) or not realizing that no one in the Byers Clan (Wynona Ryder, Noah Schapp, Charlie Heaton) was actually that interesting. And, while the the season was able to salvage itself in the final two episodes with some downright amazing production value (The Bathtub might be one of the best hours of television in Netflix's history), the season ultimately struggled with anything resembling a cohesive narrative, instead being forced into a lousy cliffhanger ending and a tacked on “Coming Soon” moment that felt pandering at best. The Duffer Brothers' (the creators) response? Make a second season and ANSWER THE STUPID QUESTIONS. The result? What season 1 should've been: an awesome E.T./Stephen King hybrid that focuses on its talented young cast and its own mythology. Why did it take a year to figure THAT out?

Yes, readers, Strangers Things 2 is the awesome we were promised that finally delivers in the amazing way we should have expected. The new additions to the cast (Sean Astin, Paul Reiser) are fun and show unexpected depth, new group member Max (Sadie Sink) is both a welcome female foil to the boys club she joins while displaying enough vulnerability to make you care about her and Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) is just as awesome as you would expect a telekinetic middleschooler to be. Throw in a competent narrative that finally tries to give the audience nuggets of information about its own universe (The Upside Down actually makes a little more sense now) and you have the easiest reason to argue with Netflix about extending their episode allotment. Its like the entire season was dedicated to answering its own stupid questions. That's meta.

Unfortunately, much like season 1, the short episode run (9 this time) tends to feel cramped with the amount of information they are trying to feed us and, as a result, certain plot threads feel like filler segments meant to draw something out that didn't need to be explored in the first place. Eleven's weird journey to Chicago to find her adoptive sister (Linnea Berthelsen) felt like little more than a training montage that expanded over an entire 50 minute episode before being completely abandoned for the sake of the main plot and Sheriff Hopper's (David Harbour) two-episode adventure into the Upside Down was both underwhelming and forgettable. Maybe these were just arcs meant to be explored in later seasons and I'm just being nitpicky, but it felt like the writers were trying too hard here. You managed to impress me in 9 episodes, guys. You don't have to trip over your own legs trying to take a victory lap.

As for watching it, yeah, go for it. Considering the lackluster catalog currently running through Netflix (Orange is the New Black, House of Cards, 13 Reasons Why) that seem to be absorbing resources from much better productions (The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt), this feels like a breath of fresh air in terms of creators understanding what paying customers actually want to see. Go for the pretty outstanding young cast, stay for the gonzo plot lines and Cthulu monsters. What else would you need for the Stephen King fan in you?

The Duffer Brothers (I'm not naming them because that's literally how they name themselves) finally, mercifully find their footing in a series that has more popularity than value with Stranger Things Season 2, a brilliant follow-up that does what follow-ups are supposed to do (close narrative gaps, fix plot problems, explore characters properly). What can I say here? Have you seen season 1? Go watch it, temper your disappointment, watch season 2 and then wonder why they didn't just combine both seasons and thereby spare us all the suffering of having to wait a year for all those stupid loose ends to tie up. Need more convincing? A telekinetic tween uses her mind powers to fight inter-dimensional slime monsters named after classic Dungeons & Dragons villains. The nerd power is strong in this one...

My score: 9/10. Does anyone like this idea of me reviewing TV series? Or is it just more of me ruining your favorite TV shows by pointing out their inconsistencies and lack of intelligence? If that second part is the case, I can promise to never review Big Bang Theory or Supergirl out of the fear of making you feel like you've given up too much of your life watching underwhelming and overrated TV shows. Did I just ruin those shows for you?

Blade Runner 2049: Same Setting; Still not Interesting

Are you ready for a horrific reality, People-Who-Think-Blade-Runner-Is-Awesome? Here it goes: the movie isn't great. Sure, it has a pretty interesting setting, Rutger Hauer was a lot of fun with his depressed wax on existentialism and, for the most part, the movie does a pretty good job in the whole world building department. But, let's be honest, the story and pacing are mind-numbingly boring, the movie is known more for its nauseating number of recuts and, despite its influence, the whole “Are we real?” question that movie seemed so anxious to ask in every version was so much better delivered in the dozens of Japanese homage movies made in its wake (Ghost in the Shell, Akira). Now, with so many recuts, obnoxious fanboy arguments about its place in science fiction and even the weird foreshadowing of Ridley Scott's personality (the existential angst is strong in that man), Hollywood has finally just gone the sequel route. The result: a passable sci-fi movie set in the world that you probably love with little or no context to care. Good job, Hollywood?

Look, from a clear aesthetic point of view, Blade Runner 2049 is a beautiful movie that never misses a chance to show off its weird future world. Future Los Angeles is still just as much a sight to behold as it was in 1982, there are partially successful attempts to reconcile the original's themes with the sequel's story, and, in an about face from the original, most of the cast (instead of just Rutger Hauer) put in enough work here to make me actually believe they cared this time around. Even in the hands of weirdo director Denis Villeneuve, the movie feels like the people who made the original memorable were still involved in some heavy degree. That's dedication.

Unfortunately, much like its predecessor, the movie is still an overlong, mostly predictable (even I saw the twist halfway through the movie) chore of a movie whose only memorable quality is its commitment to its own nihilism. Sure, you could argue that some of the action scenes (at least the ones you can see properly) play out well enough to understand, but it all comes down thematically to the same stupid question Ridley Scott asked back in 1982 and just can't seem to escape from now that he's almost 80. “How do we determine what is real in an artificial world?” just isn't that interesting of a question this time around.

As for watching it, got anything better to do this weekend? Considering it was the only major release and Friday the 13^th is coming with the promise of seemingly better action movies (The Foreigner), better horror movies (Happy Death Day) and even better historical dramas (Breathe, Goodbye Christopher Robin), my best suggestion would be to just take an off week this time around. Are you an unrepentant fan of the 1982 original and cover your ears to its myriad criticisms? Knock yourself out here.

Denis Villeneuve (Arrival) continues to make aesthetically beautiful, if thematically frustrating, movies about existence without deeper meaning. Basically, replicant Blade Runner 'K' (Ryan Gosling) discovers a conspiracy involving older model replicants that could cause a war between human factions and machines. Along the way, Harrison Ford will appear and act like he really needed a paycheck, hologram assistant Joi (Ana de Armas) will somehow display more depth than most characters despite being a soulless, body-less A.I., Robin Wright will sell her throwaway character's part for all its worth and, when it finally ends after two-and-a-half excruciating hours, you'll feel like the whole mess of a plot was literally for the sake of nothing while scrambling for deeper meaning. Thanks, Hollywood, but I already own every season of Rick & Morty. I don't need any more case studies on existential nihilism.

My score: 4/10. Seriously, if you want to have an existential crisis AND be entertained, just watch Rick & Morty. It's the only show that makes you laugh from the humor and cry at the horrors of existence in the same breath.

Kingsman: The Golden Circle: The Sequel NO ONE asked for

For those of you who just couldn't be bothered to see it or the rest of you who see Matthew Vaughn's name next to a movie and black out because he's not the most recognizable name, 2014's Kingsman: The Secret Service might have been one of the most entertaining, irreverent and psychotic action comedies of the last few years that sold its premise (lisping meglomaniac trying to take over the world) simply by taking a played out genre trope (overly courteous British agents) and blowing it all up with well-timed bouts of humor that tended to hit more than they missed (you will either love or hate the big finale; no middle ground). Regardless of where you stand on the film's merits, it was an honest take on an under-read comic book and, by the grace of Vaughn, sold itself for every cringe-worthy setpiece and joke it could muster. How does Vaughn follow-up his arguably best movie? By making a sequel no one asked for. This is the part where the world groaning about sequels starts to have a little more hold than usual.

Sadly, despite its pedigree, Kingsman: The Golden Circle is a movie with literally no reason to exist in any form. Not only does it expand too much beyond its comic book origins (which were already stretched thin with the original movie) but the premise (meglomaniac without lisp tries to take over the world) and the iconic action sequences of the original (the Colin Firth fight) are cribbed almost verbatim from its prequel. The narrative doesn't flow, the new characters feel like an old Oscar nomination check sheet for the sake of name recognition and the movie makes commits the cardinal sin of relying too much on its predecessor to fill its own plot holes. Kingsman worked fine as a stand alone movie BECAUSE it didn't need or promise any sequels in an era made up of little else.

Fortunately, if you can escape the inevitable deja vu of a movie trying too hard to recapture its glory from its superior big brother, there are small gems to find. Pedro Pascal's Whiskey is a fun, almost endearing character bogged down only by a late-game plot dump that seemed forced by the two hour-plus movie somehow running out of time. And, despite being a prime example of gimmick casting in a movie full of it, Elton John was both funny and wildly entertaining as a warped parody of himself. Say what you will about the man, seeing a 70-year-old, feather-laden musician kick a bad guy in the face with platform shoes while slyly winking at the camera almost makes the insulting nature of the joke funnier than it should be. See? Gratuitous overkill CAN be awesome if it sells it right.

As for watching it...just go watch the original and be happy you didn't fall for all the advertisements about the sequel being some kind of awesome expansion on the canon of the now pointless series. Better yet, just wait a few months and randomly search “Elton John fighting” and you'll likely stumble across the only aspect of this movie that warrants any of your time. Seriously, has the “good” movie season started yet?

Matthew Vaughn (X-Men: First Class) makes what can only be described as his first truly awful movie with Kingsman: The Golden Circle, a bloated, overly self-referential experiment in cinematic overkill that takes the good will of its predecessor and wastes it all trying to make you watch the same movie you saw three years ago with more moving parts and worse plotting. Having been rebuilt after the events of the first movie, the Kingsman intelligence agency is promptly decimated by a drug cartel known as the Golden Circle because...I'm not exactly sure. Their wonky world domination plan and the actual destruction of Kingsman don't really make any sense outside of being bad plot devices to push the bloated script onto additional set pieces people still didn't ask for. Take the previously mentioned advice to watch a cool 30-second clip of Elton John kicking a guy in the face to “Saturday Night” and just be glad you didn't waste your money again this week. Its sadly too late for me.

My score: 2/10. Is it weird that I want to see more action sequences involving Elton John kicking dudes in the face to his own music? Probably weird...

American Assassin: Tom Clancy for Dummies

Back in the 80s, for reasons that really defy logic, the classic spy genre of literature changed from your basic premise of debonair-spy-steals-microfilm-and-probably-kills-the-bad-guy-to-prevent-a-sequel to something... darker. While this was mostly because the bygone era of the genre changed with the times, it wasn't helped by the fact that, with the threat of total nuclear war dissipating to an almost non-existent conclusion, it was harder for readers to fathom why any spy would actually behave in a way that would encourage an angry nuclear power to retaliate. As a result, novels became more about the analysis and characters who were less James Bond and more Jason Bourne, more likely to just kill the threat rather than play baccarat and argue about martinis. Now, with even that whole section of the genre beginning to jump into the Age of Terrorism, Hollywood has decided to latch onto the premise (ten years too late) for the sake of filling their docket. The result: a decently acted but ultimately bland action movie with little reason to exist outside of a Hollywood number crunch.

Hey, I can be nice here for a bit: American Assassin works great if you like Michael Keaton and his wonky brand of acting. Despite being in a movie far below his own pedigree (the man was in Birdman for crying out loud!) and probably being the only guy who thought to earn his paycheck (he's the only guy who seems to be selling the hammy dialog), Keaton excels as an angry spy trainer with a simple mixture of mystery (which isn't actually that mysterious) and a more gritty performance than was probably warranted. Despite what I'm about to follow this paragraph with, know that the ultimate reasons for this movie's failure never have the line “Because of Michael Keaton” in it anywhere. Got it? Good.

Unfortunately, with Keaton safely in a bubble and removed completely from the movie, this is little more than an amateur attempt at a cheesy spy flick; never really knowing if it wants to go for gritty (because of Keaton) or it prefers the action approach (via its poorly choreographed fight scenes and shootouts) or if it wants to rely on its poor attempt at modern intrigue (via dialog that feels like it was read off of a teleprompter). Regardless of the promised premise of an angry man (Dylan O'Brien) seeking revenge for his losses and inadvertently becoming a super spy, nothing ever works how its supposed to. There's no character investment, none of the story really goes anywhere and, when it finally over, the only real advancement you feel is that you've wasted about two hours of your life watching the equivalent of a Tom Clancy short story while your waiting for better movies to come out and justify the movie theater's existence again (it's been a REALLY bad year at the movies).

As for watching it, don't. You could argue that, because it has O'Brien and because he was kind of awesome in those two Mazerunner movies (before that franchise was killed) he might be able to move onto another action franchise with his own on-screen charisma, but this movie doesn't actually require him to be anything more than a bland, blank slate character with only the tiniest of motivations to actually be doing what he's doing. You know what? Go watch It (the movie with the clown; not the pronoun for this movie) and be happy that Kingsman 2 is coming and there might still be hope to salvage this consistently awful movie season. Seriously, this movie season needs to die already.

Michael Cuesta (T.V.'s Elementary) tries to make his first big-screen action movie and pretty much proves he needs to stick with television with American Assassin, a wonky, unintelligible train wreck of an action movie that, save for the grace of Batman (Keaton), pretty much relegates itself to the bargain bin come rental time. To avenge the death of his fiance at the hands of terrorists, Mitch Rapp (O'Brien) joins a CIA offshoot known as Orion and tries to sound interesting for the rest of the movie. What's there to say? Stuff blows up, most of the characters basically deliver their lines phonetically and every single actor acts like they'd rather be anywhere else but in this movie. You were probably awesome in book form, Mitch Rapp. Maybe you should've stayed there...

My score: 3/10. Dear next week's Kingsman 2: please be a passable movie with relatable characters and an interesting story. That is literally your minimum requirement at this point.

Life is Strange: Before the Storm Episode 1: More of the Same; A Little Less

2015's Life is Strange might be one of my favorite point-and-click, choice-based adventure games that rose above much better reviewed (and even better selling) titles of the same genre (Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, All TellTale Games) simply by being different where it counted. Before LiS, I felt contempt for the genre merely because, due to vague displays and obnoxious timed responses, most of my characters tended to come off as unintentional assholes (Lee talking to Clementine with no indication of the inflexion of the conversation is an example) forcing me into the unwanted situation of potentially playing through a game with unskippable cutscenes and overlong dialogue sequences for a second time just to find out what I missed with the other option (note to developers: these games NEVER warrant a second playthrough). But LiS was different merely because of its most gimmicky mechanic: the time reversal ability. With this ability, I was now able to merely rewind when I didn't like the outcome and, barring an endgame decision, could easily reverse tactics. This gave LiS an edge over more conventional and (arguably) better games. I no longer worried what Max would say because rewinding and going Plan B was just as feasible and option. And while, in the end, the mechanic really meant nothing to the overarching narrative (the game would end on a binary choice regardless) the gameplay was backed up with a story told from the heart. Regardless of how you felt about mousy Max Caulfield or the seemingly incomprehensible anger of Chloe Price, you rooted for these characters because they felt more human in their emotions. These weren't superheroes trying to save the world or hardened survivors barreling toward some awesome, action-filled climax. This was a story of loss made bearable by the chance to rectify past mistakes. Regardless of your A or B decision in the end, you spent a week with someone important to you and, much like the ending to The Leftovers, you're level of success was dictated not by your actions but by your ability to just fucking BE THERE ("You're Here" might be the best explanation ever uttered on any show ever). Now, with 2017 nearing its end and the adventure genre kind of floundering, Square Enix has decided to continue a story that never really warranted a continuation. As of Life is Strange Before the Storm Episode 1: the same soul minus the only mechanic that made it unique from the rest of the dreg.

Let me be honest: I actually love Episode 1: Awake despite its total lack of replayability. Chloe Price is back (and very much alive) and her burgeoning relationship with Rachel Amber (also very much alive) keeps the story interesting and endearing enough even for the collector-crazy gamers who search every square inch of each map. Regardless of what you play these types of games for (mostly achievements/trophies) there is a soul here that makes you want to genuinely learn this story despite already knowing its tragic conclusion. Rachel Amber, often barely more than a plot-pushing point in the first game, is a well fleshed-out character with a compelling story (she carries a veneer of a perfect life while wallowing in the more tragic aspects of it) and, despite being an obviously bad influence on Chloe, you will root for her because it actually feels like these two need each other at the moment. Chloe, the angry punk chick who had terrible dialog and serious abandonment issues in the first game, comes off as a young woman veering toward the breaking point; her relationship with her mother is falling apart, her school life is hell and her reputation as a bad girl seems to have become her very character to everyone who knows her. When these two finally meet, the sense that they become one (due to being opposites with small connective tissue to keep them together) becomes more believable the longer they share scenes together. That's hard to write around. It's usually impossible to write believably.

As for bad, the Backtalk mechanic is a poor replacement for Max's Rewind and it shows in just how little it is actually utilized (three times in a three hour period). I'm aware that this mechanic is necessary in order for it to play as something different like its predecessor, but the idea that, every hour or so, a seemingly random event happens with a bunch of multiple choice nonsense just kind of boggles the mind. If your going to make this without the mystical side, that's fine. Backtalk is not the way to make this work properly.

Whatever. It's still the first Episode 1 of an adventure story that I've willingly played all the way through since the original and I'm still invested in the characters enough to want to see what happens next. Sure, lack of Max hurts a little, but its believable considering she would still be hiding in dark corners in Seattle at this point so, no worries. I've played far worse sequels in my life and none of those made me cheer at the end. Pick your heartbreak.

My score: 8/10.

Rick and Morty: The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy: Saying What Has to Be Said.

Throughout the entire run of Rick and Morty, I've counted myself amongst the few who openly defend my distaste for the character Jerry Smith (Chris Parnell). Yes, I'm aware that he's the "best" character on the show and that he's also the most stable human being amongst the entire Smith family (at least until Season 3 Morty came out of the woodwork), but he's also, beneath that veneer of just a guy wanting what's best for his family, one of the most pathetic creatures to exist in modern television, often displaying the characteristics more akin to a parasitic leech than anything resembling a loving family man. And, with the newest R&M episode "The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy", it seems that creators Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland, after spending the entire third season so far pretty much ignoring him, are finally ready tackle Jerry just to call him on his shit.
Mind you, it wasn't hard to actually see this finally coming from a few episodes away. R&M, despite being one of the best shows on television, needs its primary conflict between Rick's (Roiland) clinical, nihilistic view of the universe and Jerry's idiotic lack of relevance to succeed and the Season 3 has ignored this trope almost completely. But, in doing so, it created a chance to show us what Summer (Spencer Grammer), Beth (Sarah Chalke) and Morty (also Roiland) can finally accomplish without the pathetic anchor that is Jerry hanging around their necks. Summer has become more assertive in her life while also being prone to the usual teenage behavior (huffing in class, marrying into a post-apocalyptic marauder clan), Morty has finally matured to the point where he's both willing to call Rick on his own shit and also able to back it up with past experience expertise (like disarming bombs) and even Beth has managed to finally become something resembling a mother to her own children (she seems to care about her children rather than considering them burdens of a toxic marriage). Hell, outside of a few slight thematic problems (Beth still hasn't had much to do with her newly-divorced time to ensure she won't let Jerry weasel back into her life) this season has proven that the writers know how to find nurture throughout the chaos that is its own universe.
Then of course, there's the fact that Jerry still needs to be there because the universe needs its punching bag. This is where "The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy" comes in. In this episode, Rick decides to take Jerry out for an "adventure" to get Morty off his back about fears that his dad might become suicidal considering the train wreck that his life has become (in actuality, Morty conned Rick into it to get rid of him for a day). Unfortunately, being established by already well-known canon, Jerry is a guaranteed casualty in anything but the most mundane situation possible. The solution: take him to a place where death is impossible and thereby sparing the easiest target in the universe its own magic bullet. What follows is a textbook example as to how Jerry ruins everything (even temporary immortality).
Let's just skip past the basics here and get to my favorite part of the episode (other than Morty calling out Beth for lacking priorities): Jerry, beaten and once again defeated by pretty much everything in his life, finally cracks and angrily accuses Rick of not only stealing his family but ruining his long believed perfect life with Beth. Rick, in response, points out that Jerry is little more than a parasite who relies on the sympathy of others for his own survival and that, while he may try to blind himself from reality through his own self-centered personality, no one in his family nor anywhere else actually considers him anything more than a pest.
This statement is the exclamation point on Jerry's very personality throughout the series. He was married to a woman far out of his league because he managed to knock her up after a pity prom, he leeched off of her for years by belittling her downgraded profession (horse surgeon instead of human surgeon) and likely would have done so for years more had Rick not reenter his daughter's life and given her the confidence (via his own, much worse manipulations) to finally realize just how insignificant Jerry really was to her. Yes, this gave Beth severe daddy issues that she hasn't, and likely won't ever, be able to successfully resolve, but, in the words of most break-ups, at least she managed to lose a few hundred pounds of useless fat in the process.
This is not to say Beth was much better than Jerry on the marriage front. Much like Jerry latching onto her for the comfort of a home and the need to be pitied, Beth used Jerry to boost her own fragile ego when it came to terms of professional success (no matter how bad it might get for her, she at least wasn't Jerry) and their toxic marriage was definitely a co-dependent union made up of equal parts spite (their children seemed to exist just for further manipulation) and competition (their entire relationship was built on who blinked first).
My hopes for the rest of this season (and, hopefully beyond) is that the divorce actually remains a permanent fixture. Yes, the series tends to suffer without Jerry's constant screw-ups proving that Rick was right all along, but such an absence makes episodes like "The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy" so beautiful by comparison. Hey, you can't just show your best card for the entire series.