The Beverly Hills, 90210 Visual Aids Are Like Shooting Fish In A Bore-el
And you'll wish Old-Tyme Dylan had shot the wardrobe department when you see the present-day lewks from S05.E29.
The Again With This podcast that goes with these Visual Aids hates it when you're humble.
That old saw about couples starting to look alike should really not have this gooey-bangs pairing as evidence of its existence.
Everybody hates Ray.
Ray hates Donna's square burnt-ended hair.
That's how you do "threatening," David.
"Years"? He lasted all of one. Shut up, cake.
Behold the literal parade of bad '90s style that also serves to triple the number of people in the room for this fugazi student-senate meeting. That's Ohhhhhndrea's uncombed-out Sydney Opera hair at the back there.
Someone at least run their fingers through it; she looks like a Teletubby!
Jesus, Valerie. Aim higher. (Literally.)
Ixnay on the peach-hunter combo there, Chensie.
tfw anyone mentions Jordan Bonner...but before you remember a split-second later that you married that judgy dork behind you.
Betty vs. Veronica, round 542.
So in the present Dylan won't deign to button his shirt for a horseback ride, but in the past, he had all the accouterments? Got it.
If we give you all our money, can we put this storyline down like a rabid dog? ...No?
Western Dylan and Western Kelly's meet-shoot.
The Real McKay makes an enemy.
Meet Dixie. Thing about not being able to compel the credits cast to reprise their roles as Western players in Dylan's past-life melodrama is, you end up with C-minus day players who look like they're belching in every screenshot.
No-chill guy has no chill. (Not that the guy on the right is any more sub-tull.)
"Notify nearest sheriff" that...what, you need a fly-swatter? GUAFB.
Yeah, now that we think about it, the bug eyes are kind of appropriate. When's the last time YOU saw an armed mantis with a hat on?
Could everyone bring it down to, like, an eight? Was that seriously the best take, Director Priestley?
...Again, what is this "emotion"? She looks like she has a mosquito bite in the exact center of her shoulderblades.
The cheaply bewigged and bonneted Madonna to Dixie's whore.
No, don't get up, bank-job monitor. We got this. Seriously. Take a load off.
Uh-oh, there's that enemy he made!
And I guess we know who this extra made an enemy of, since it looks like Hair gave two Twix a perm and whamped them onto the sides of his head. (Note bemused former bank president's portrait in the background.)
Anachronistic kissing. (How much do you want to bet Luke Perry insisted on wearing his own boots here?)
So you'll roll your eyes all petulant that Valerie interrupted your deep thoughts with food...
...but Molly's camel toe right at eye level gets no response? k cool.
Sarah's kingdom for a Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker-style explosion just offscreen when Valerie once again hurls a lit joint into shrubbery.
Another instance where Bitchcock over here should have asked for another take. It's a hug, not a tarantella; just...hug each other.
This one-way sex-eyes shot is probably a mistake, but we kind of want to think that Valerie is just fucking with him AND Kelly with all the flirting up to this point.
Nice scarf, Audrey Crapburn, but speaking of that, if it's supposed to cover your burn, it's doing a crap job.
Hard to believe this biopic of Sam Elliott never got released, eh?
...Seriously, this mustache. It pains Sarah to describe it thus, but it's...it's like...funeral bunting made of cobwebs there I said it.
Because needing her to mother you isn't creepy regardless of timeline.
Ooh, a glass top -- fancy! Don't forget to put a coaster under your drink, hon.
This face could go either way...and should run the other way, because they hate each other.
Oh, good. This again. YOU HATE EACH OTHER!