Severed Review: "Badlaa"
By Aderyn

"Badlaa" sucked...

Skull: Oh, <yawn> you're back. Where the hell have you been, anyway?
This review is so freakin' late that it's even more obsolete than usual.

"Badlaa" sucked stink...

Skull: And another thing before you get going. You'd better not make me
the butt of all jokes in this review. You think you're going to crack
everyone up, whereass the reality is that you're better off sticking to your
usual anal-ysis. <howl>

"Badlaa" sucked stinky stuff, or so the preamble promised. In reality, it
might have been on the odorous side, but could an ep that spent an
inordinate amount of time showing the antics that occurred in an
economy-class seat on a Rectal Airways flight from New Deli to
BigFatFirstWorldCity USA, really be that bad? Indeed, what wasn't to
love about our favourite show grabbing the bull by its horns (whoa,
matron) and televising a 45-minute slasherrific tribute to the Mile High
Club phenomenon? What an XXX-file for us to behold.

Skull: So Badlaa was about people getting lucky on a long-haul flight?
Aderyn: Yes.
Skull: Ooh, that reminds me, I must book my flight tickets for Fest soon.

It could be argued that watching two characters get some on a plane was
not the most riveting of X-Files. Where was the science? Where was
Queequeg? Where was the character interaction (apart from the
obvious)? Where was Ma Scully for gawdsake - they could have at least
given poor Sheila Larken a bit-part as a ditzy air-hostess or something.
However, after some reflection, it is apparent that this X-File was not only
riveting, but also a masterpiece. If the antics in "Badlaa" sent viewers on
a shuttle-speed journey to Whineville then it was because they didn't take
the trouble to look deep within Shiban's like, totally profound work, like totally.

"Badlaa" was layered deeper than a giant lasagne, with sauces and
meaty squelchy chunks oozing out of the side - a cornucopia of excess
brilliance. Each strata of subtext revealed earth-shattering genius, each
snippet of scatological tomfoolery underscored the exquisite...

Skull: Get to the point, dammit. Enough with the build-up!! The true
meaning of Badlaa is... <drumroll>...
Aderyn: Jeez, how the hell should I know? <sheepish shrug>
Skull: You're the literary equivalent of premature ejaculation, you know
that?
Aderyn: This review ain't over yet, Skullduggery... I'll see it through to its
climax if it kills me.
Skull: Kewl, so I win whatever happens. <giggle>

The main character in the episode was a butt genie, played to no-legged
perfection by Deep Roy. He was the lone survivor of the Planet Poopy,
which was colon-ised by a rogue band of butt bandits from the Gluttony
Galaxy. The obvious pathos of this weighty premise aside, there were
several light-hearted moments for viewers to enjoy. There couldn't have
been a phile who didn't chortle upon viewing the little genie propel himself
from polyp to polyp, and merrily wheel himself around gastrointestinal
tracts on his squeaky wooden cart, granting three wishes to everyone
with whom he came into contact, before he butchered them into little
pieces.

Skull: Whom exactly did he meet in there? I mean, if he was hitching a
ride with Scully then maybe he met Sculder, via a little internal detour.
Aderyn: Nah, he couldn't bum a ride with Scully. She had an open mind
in this ep, not an open ass. <snicker>

Other than the occasional foray into stinky-winky-proctoscopy-vision™
, this episode was primarily located in an aircraft. It was pleasing to see
that the director made the most of this situation. He used tracking shots
to follow the Rectal Rogue speeding down the aisles on ye olde
CREAAAAAAKing cart, fancy American scooters, and beverage carts -
the camera in hot pursuit of his fiendish search for a desirable orifice all
the while. These shots offered a glimpse into the lives of the ordinary
folk that were innocently sitting in their seats, unaware of the fate that
would soon befall them. A fate that led to a grizzly death, as the Butt
Muncher chomped down on whomever took his fancy. That'll teach
people to fly economy.

Skull: So, this was like one of those disaster movies where everyone gets
it? Only in this ep everyone gets some, and then gets it?
Aderyn: Something like that, but I also heard a rumour that it was the
tragic tale of a good Elder who [censored material] and tragically turned
*bad*.
Skull: La.. did what?! Deah gott. And wasn't it also a biting critique of
anal-retentive, apathy-ridden, stinking-rich Westernised countries, that
dare to assume a position of superiority over other nations and cultures?
Aderyn: Heehee, that's a good one! Dammit, why did I get stuck with this
review? <sob> I don't have a clue what "Badlaa" was about. And, all the
good toilet jokes have long been posted, all the good material has long
been sealed for posterity in the Lyris archives, all the innuendo has long
clogged the bandwidth. <wail>
Skull: Ad, we tried crying in the last review, remember? It's getting
pathetic. Hey, I've got an idea! Talk about Scully's hair. <snicker>
Aderyn: Or better still...

[Aderyn switches on the SVYRDMUL karaoke machine and cranks up
the volume]

May I have your attention please? Will the real Badlaa please stand up? I
repeat will the real Badlaa please stand up? We're going to have a
problem here... Ya'll act like you never seen a crappy ep of XF before.
Jaws all on the floor, like Deep Roy just burst in the door, started riding
his scooter all over the floor, leaving bloody handprints all over the
Abbey's nice décor...

Skull: Am I dead? I think this must be what hell is like.
Aderyn: Well, excuse me for giving our tired reviewing formula a much-
needed revamp by cunningly segueing into a crappy filk of that most
vilified of artists, Eminem. It's a metaphor, yeah, that's right, a metaphor.
Nyah.
Skull: Did you just say that you'd filked an "enema"?
Aderyn: No, *Eminem*.
Skull: Oh, M&Ms. Yummy.
Aderyn: Really, Skull, since when has chocolate had anything to do with
XF? Keep things on topic, wouldja? <rolls eyes> All the kewl kids know
that it's all about cake.

This multifaeceted episode, while a wonder of possible interpretations,
was tantalisingly vague in answering the latest mytharc riddle that's
plaguing the minds of philes, and dysfunctional members of society
world-wide - how exactly does cake explain it *all*?

Skull: Cake, cake, we can bake, but it gives us tummy ache.
Aderyn: Uh, yes Skull. Good, Skull.
Skull: What the flockin' hell does cake have to do with the mytharc
anyway?
Aderyn: Isn't it obvious?
Skull: No.
Aderyn: Well...

The answers are always there in XF, if you know where to look. This
week's hidden gem of a mytharc reference was a fart-and-you'll-miss-it
shot of a gluttonous passenger guzzling down on a piece of cake on the
doomed Rectal Airways flight. It's pleasing to note that the show's
creators obviously consult the show bible at each nanosecond of
production, and used this shot to wink at fans, such as myself, who have
spent HOURS in pursuit of arcs of every possible figuration. What a
delightful and playful allusion! Bravo!!

Skull: You're so full of sh*t.

Sadly, some fans of XF are more than a little stoopid, so for the benefit of
those less astute than myself the reference can be explained thusly -
aliens wish to colonise the earth for no other reason than they really,
really like cake. In retrospect, each and every mytharc ep in yonder
seasons has been about this quest of theirs to bake the prefect sponge.
The bees? Honey, to sweeten the mix. Black oil? Every cake needs
some lardy substance with which to thicken the confection. The
harvested eggs? To add a moistening and raising agent to the
ingredients. The abduction of Fox Mulder? He was obviously beamed
aboard the Masterchef!Mothership because of his legendary
culinary prowess, to whip up a cake mix, and to load a small bun of this
concoction into a willing oven. Enter Saint Scully, the bestest oven of 'em all.

Skull: At this juncture there are two questions I would like to raise. One,
are you inferring that Sculder is a cake? And, two, are you inferring that
Sculder is a cake?
Aderyn: That would be an affirmative, Numbskull. However, Sculder won't
be just any old cake, rather a muffin-flavoured moppet of multi-tiered
sugary scrumptiousness. I'm picturing strawberry scented Titian frosting
covering layers of dimpled spongy goodness.
Skull: Sounds tasty. <cackle>

The Season of Scully continues to enchant, and Badlaa offered another
chance for us to gaze at the wonder that is Gillian Anderson. She acted
her little heart out in this ep, performing autopsies on the butt-invaded,
and after heartrendingly performing MRIs on tipsy passengers to
determine where exactly their livers were located, she performed her
second selfless act - by shooting an unarmed kid. While it could be
argued that this was somewhat morally and ethically dubious, it didn't
matter too much because the slow-mo shot of her aiming and firing
accented her hair as it fluffed and flounced deliciously in the air, her blue
turtleneck delicately contrasting with the mass of red that cascaded
around it. Blessed be the CHarc.

Skull: A kid with no arms. A genie with no legs. An episode that makes no
sense...WOW!
Aderyn: John Shiban, we grant you honorary membership of The
Severed. Long may you amputate your characters, and write nonsensical crap.

Somewhat inevitably perhaps, this episode ended in the doldrums, as
Scully welled-up and let 'em flow. Stunt tears flipped, tumbled and
pirouetted over the doomed aircraft as she suddenly came to the
realisation that she wasn't actually a physical manifestation of "open
minded" Mulder. In her obvious state of grief for her beloved she had
attempted to transform herself into a replica of Ol' Scrunchy, and in the
closing sequence we watched Scully return to her old self. It was almost
difficult to focus on the screen such was the obvious pain of Our Saint, as
she ripped off her prosthetic nose, lowered herself from her stilts, and
sipped at some dimple-suppressant antidote.

Skull: And took the socks out of her pants.
Aderyn: And sieved the self-pity from her brain.
Skull: <sniffle> That part damn near killed me.

"Badlaa" was a wonderfully layered episode. Much like lasagne, and
cake, and hair, it held some delightful surprises beneath the surface if
you were only brave enough to look. Those, however, who were unwilling
to slip a latexted probe into the mire in a search for a totally deep depth
may have concluded that the ep was indigestion inducing, and maybe
this was the point. It's worth remembering to never underestimate the
profundity of CC and Co who cunningly aired an ep so bad that it resulted
in philes the world over feeling a searing nausea, and thus preparing us
for the Pregnancy Arc, and the delights that it will surely bring. Again,
BRAVO!

Skull: Encore! <cough>

Stay tuned for all the latest Severed ramblings, as Skull will shortly be
posting a gift of a review that's so late it gives new meaning to the word
redundant.

Skull: Redundant?!
Aderyn: Redundant.
Skull: You're a fine one to talk, you stoopid butt-faced snail-paced
moronic ho...
Aderyn: Ahhh, it's so good to be back. <contented sigh>

-end.