Okay… quickly, before you start laughing, pretend for a moment that the stalker story on One Life is actually creepy.  Let’s just suspend disbelief for a moment and act like we actually CARE about this ridiculous foray into shadowy filmed hands forcefully stabbing thumbtacks (yes, you read that correctly) into what looks like a giant (gulp!) corkboard layered with photos of…drum roll…Adriana.  Hmm.  I knew it.  There was no way anyone could pretend that this story is believable or suspenseful in any way.  It is, however, extremely laughable, and for that I guess we can thank the powers that be for some unintentional comic relief. 

For starters, I find the concept of Adriana as a top model who has her photo sessions at THE PALACE of all places (yep, Renee certainly has her pulse on the fashion world, dontcha think?) insulting to our intelligence as viewers.  Likewise, though I think Adriana is absolutely gorgeous, she doesn’t really have the fashion model look, honestly. She’s not tall enough, emaciated enough, quirky enough… it’s kind of a stretch to cast her as a cover girl.  It is also insulting to see the inane photo sets that smack of 1950’s magazines (a plastic inflatable dolphin, anyone? ) or some alternate reality where the other models look faintly like Dior ads and there’s smiling Adriana, looking like the girl next door with her perky smile.  The caricatures of the foot stomping photographer, the effeminate boy model with the girly butterfly rub-on tattoo… it is just too miserable to watch.  Honestly, this harkens back to the whole Fusion fiasco on AMC, which is about when I stopped watching, due to chronic stomach pain at the Wal-Mart fragrance ads between scenes.  Thank the god of your choice that Adriana and Rex aren’t hocking some Craze pepper spray in between shots—perfect for macing that stubborn butterfly dropping stalker right out of your life!  

At least this storyline has been good for some laughs.  I marvel that John-Paul Lavoisier and Melissa Gallo are able to keep straight faces through these ludicrous scenes—I certainly have been unable to keep from giggling.  I nearly snorted my peppermint tea whilst watching Rex’s head being shoved into Dorian’s swimming pool… Hee.  The darkly filmed scenes of the shadowy stalker knifing  Rex out of the picture were pathetically blatant (“grrrr—me hate Rex!”), and when he stabbed said photo into the back of the booth… well, I kept envisioning Carlotta going ape over the knife cut in the diner’s naugahyde seat. 

All this silliness aside, no one really is guarding Adriana now, are they?  Rex is continually running off on various errands and leaving her defenseless and alone, while bodyguard what’s-his-name guy working for Dorian is lame, lame, lame… and makes Dorian seem like an outright fool.  She just takes his word that he can “kill a man six different ways?”  I winced at that line.  Poor Dorian.  They took David away and gave her this load of crapola as compensation… thank goodness her wardrobe has been impeccable as always and that she’s had a few scenes with Clint, too.  (Hmm… can’t be all bad for Robin Strasser when you get to look that good and cozy up with Jerry ver Dorn, too!) I am trying to care about his cryptic phone call that implies he is working for someone else as well (THE STALKER!? Heaven forbid!).  Yawn.   

Which brings us to the Bayberry Inn scheme. Gotta love the fact that Rex, in all his protectiveness, failed to deadbolt the door (but he remembered to stash a loaded gun…what gives?!).   Though we got to see the lovely sheet scenes as he and Adriana at last did the deed (about damn time), it was spoiled by the silly cut-to of the pissed off stalker slamming the hanging payphone about, clanging it up and down in the case as if he were shaking an aerosol can for all it was worth. Is this supposed to convey some inner dialogue, something akin to “Foiled again! I’m so frickin’ mad I’m gonna bang this phone around—take that!  And that!  Damn you, Rex!  Arrrghhh!”   Ahem.  Scary stuff, payphone violence.  Sure gave me the willies. 

Anyway, I hope that this story takes an amazing turn and rises above these miserable scenes.  I’d love to see Adriana and Rex have a relationship without the impending threat of a hoodie-clad misanthrope stabbing stuff and leaving glass insects around.  If not, though, at least we got a giggle.

By Amber Barton