You’ll need to gargle with alcohol to forget those opening lyrics.
Allow me to quote the song that plays at the beginning of this episode: “The cool kids do what the cool kids do and the hot girls…” okay, seriously, what is this pile of tweeny-bopper crap? Even worse, why are a bunch of hot young adults playing volleyball to it? I don’t know, I don’t care, but this is a really sour way to start off a crime procedural. What did they do to get this song? Call Kidz Bop and order the leftovers? In any case, what starts off like a Justin Bieber meets Jersey Shore nightmare turns into a semi-clever case involving bars, diamond heists, and bikinis. Emphasis on the bikinis.
A body of a man named Josh is found buried nearby a volleyball game. Longworth’s investigation leads him to a disturbingly tight-knit bar owned by a man named Dwayne. Under Dwayne is the bikini dressed cocktail waitress named Maggie, who immediately earns Longworth’s suspicion. Longworth single outs Maggie as the main suspect for the majority of the episode, but after talking to a guy named Wheeler — whose name is disgustingly Jersey Shore sounding — he discovers the owner of the bar isn’t quite what he seems.
The entire episode builds up to Longworth and Callie discovering that Maggie isn’t the killer and that someone they did not expect is. The whole thing is an inversion of the seductress archetype often found in crime dramas and noir. Longworths antagonism with the episode’s bikini nymph is believable and the episode delivers about what you would expect from summer programming. The big turning point of this week’s show occurs near the end when Callie announces to Longworth — while he is on his way to an ambulance — that she has filed for divorce. Nice move Callie, why don’t you wait until he is on his deathbed to announce the baby’s a’comin.’ No, she isn’t really pregnant, but you know what I mean. Despite the clunky idea, the reaction delivered by Matt Passmore works and blends right in with the episode’s end.
The only other real criticism of this episode comes from some of the transparent production problems. The opening kiddie bopper music will make you puke your little ponies and the grotesquely obvious Reese’s product placement doesn’t help either. Word to the set designer: orange totally blends in with a white set. Totally. However, the crew could have had there hands tied, which I can understand.
Now excuse me, I need to gargle alcohol to forget those opening lyrics.
This review originally appeared on TV Geek Army.