Josie Kafka's Open Salon Blog

Chuck: Chuck versus the American Hero

Tue, 30 Mar 2010 01:03:39 -0400

“Love is a battlefield.”

Here’s a couple of things you might need to know, or maybe just forgot: Chuck originally got at 13-episode order, and it wasn’t extended to 19 until all 13 of those episodes were in some stage of production. So tonight’s episode was originally the lead up to the Season Three finale, and next week’s was the original Season Three finale. The remaining six episodes (numbers 14-19) will be more like Season Three and a Half. There’s more info, with some minor spoilers, here.

This was really an episode in two parts: the first, the wacky buddy comedy; the second, the more serious layout of the threads that will be tied up and snipped away next week. The first half—Casey, Awesome, Morgan, and Chuck teaming up to get the girl, for a variety of self-interested motives—was almost hilarious, but seemed to be trying a bit to hard. Not least among the jokes was the way that very little effort was made to explain, for instance, Casey’s presence in Chuck’s apartment, or Morgan’s sudden desire to go to Rome, or how Ellie just got a sabbatical from her brand-new fellowship. Who needs reasons, when you’ve got a bromantic comedy to play with?

The humor of our boys playing heroes was undeniable, but the gravitas of the situations came crashing in at the moment when Shaw told Awesome about the gun. The Ring is hardcore—we saw them kill a harmless functionary, so we know they’re serious. Our second clue? The presence of Mark Sheppard. Chuck’s playing with the big boys now: Cylons and River Tam and the Winchester boys, to be specific.

After that, a lot of stuff happened, most of which is designed to lead up to next week’s episode. Shaw offers to sacrifice himself to be an American Hero (well, really to avenge his wife’s death: another instance of love trumping patriotism, which every character on this show seems to go through). Jeffster unwittingly saves the day. Chuck rides a soda machine into an underworld lair. Shaw finds out the Sarah killed his wife during her own Red Test, which we saw glimpses of last week. Chuck saves Shaw, who then tricks Sarah into coming with him to the desert, where only bad things can happen. Somewhere in there, Chuck and Sarah make plans to leave it all behind at Union Station, in a moment of poetic resonance with the train-station misadventure in Prague at the beginning of the season.

It’s hard to rate, or even assess, most of this stuff, because there’s no closure until next week. A few of the plots feel recycled: not just the Bubble of Handsomeness joke, or the underpass scene, but the air-strike (remember Barstow, last year?), needing to save a team member in peril, Chuck and Sarah reaching a climatic moment but then being torn apart. But Chuck did a pretty decent job of acting like a real spy, even if he was forced to resort to some Jeffster-outsourcing. Being a good leader is all about delegation, though.

As this mini-season winds to a close, we’ve got a few questions: Will Casey be a spy again? Will Chuck and Sarah make it? Was Sarah set up by the Ring for her Red Test, or was her target really a bad spy? Will Shaw die, or just be written out? Will Ellie and Awesome ever make it out of Burbank? Will Chuck quit his job at the BuyMore now that he’s a real spy? What does he want of the spy life, anyway?

Bytes:

· Chuck: “Burbank. Bob Hope Airport, to be exact.” This is even funnier if you’ve been to the Burbank airport, which is fabulously tiny and outdated. Some of the baggage claims are outside.

· Morgan: “I don’t think you’ll be able to buy her back, if that makes any sense.”

· Morgan: “Is that what they teach you in the Marine Corps? Roll over and die?”

· Jeff: “Guy knows how to fill out a pair of slacks, if you know what I mean.”

· Morgan: “That guy can fill out a pair of slacks. He’s a real stallion.”

· Morgan: “Take a look at yourself. It’s a freakish bubble of handsome-ness.” They stole this joke from the Jon Hamm episodes of 30 Rock, but it’s still funny.

· Casey: “Kid’s just not wired that way. Not like us.” They’ve been making quite a bit of Sarah’s killer instincts lately. Is it just to counterpoint Chuck’s own naiveté?

And Pieces:

· I am not a fan of the return of the mini-dress, even on super-pretty women.

· Shaw and Awesome crashing through the window. They both wiped their lips, like they’d accidentally kissed. Slash fiction-writers, go wild!

· The soda-machine elevator. Very Get Smart, with more wind resistance.

· Mark Sheppard is so cool.

· That underpass reminded me of: The FlashForward premiere, a scene from The Italian Job (Marky Mark edition), and something else. Can anyone help me?

· Casey told Sarah about Chuck’s Red test. Sweet Casey, you can be my spy any day.

· Chuck is willing to leave behind the spy life for Sarah. Quite a lot has changed since the season premiere, although I’m still not sure how.

I don’t know how many Pat Benatars to give this episode, and I’m going to wait until next week to see what happens.

(Season Three, Episode Twelve)

FlashForward: Revelation Zero (Part II)

Fri, 19 Mar 2010 03:03:41 -0400

“For he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.”

Remember Dominic Monaghan’s Dr. Evil chair-spin in A561984? Remember him staring at a laptop and muttering ‘Annabel’? Well, the writers have figured out what’s going on with his heretofore ambiguous, cheesy, and completely confusing character. He’s a black and white kinda guy: most people, he doesn’t care for. Why should he? He’s a genius. But there are a few that do matter: his sister, his father, maybe even Lloyd.

We finally got some answers about Simon this week, and they’re compelling. His father died a few days before the flashes, killed by distant Uncle Teddy. On the day of the funeral, Uncle Teddy got Simon to go to from Toronto to Detroit, where Simon had the unique and unexpected (for him) experience of being awake during the flashes.

Uncle Teddy/Flosso/Ricky Jay has something on Simon: it seems like he got him wrapped up in something when Simon was just a kiddo, and refuses to let go. Of course, he’s really just a middleman for D. Gibbons, so his death doesn’t mean a lot for the plot, but it does speak to Simon’s moral values, and it ups the ante on everyone finding D. Gibbons at some point.

Simon killed his father’s killer, and he killed the man who orchestrated his sister’s kidnapping. He also killed the man who took his little finger in Part I. He’s hardcore, but I don’t think he’s amoral. He just has a very select group of people who matter to him. And he’s a fan of his pinky.

Lloyd’s one of those people. Simon’s haunted by what he’s done—especially his first kill. He’s “confessed” this sin to two people: the stranger on the train (and that’s what strangers on trains are for, after all), and Lloyd. For both of them, he framed it in terms of what he saw, but with Lloyd it means something more, because Lloyd just might be the person he’s closest to, aside from family.

Simon’s family seems split down the middle. On the one side, there’s Uncle Teddy and the dead father who was probably up to something. On the other, there’s the nice religious mom who made an entire ham for dinner, the tall brothers, and the little sister Annabel. Simon has inherited the ruthlessness of his father’s side, but the devotion to family comes from his mom. Part I showed us the messy duality of Mark and Lloyd—Simon’s duality is all internal. How far will he take his revenge?

Simon “never lets anybody push him around.” He gets that from his mom, too. That could be good news, if he chooses to fight for the right side. But right now he’s something of a free agent—a trickster, a coyote. He said “we have to protect ourselves from the effects of another blackout.” Does he care about saving future people? (That is, is he defining “ourselves” as all of humanity?) Or is he talking about the “ourselves” of those people that are close to him? Or was it all just a ruse, because Janis was there?

Flashes:

· Does Mark have his job back? That was quick.

· Lloyd’s all about the evidence. He didn’t trust his source (Mark) about the possibility of another blackout, so he didn’t do anything about it.

· Janis was walking like she’d hurt her back. Did the masked intruders in Lloyd’s house do it?

· Is Simon’s mom Irish? That doesn’t really explain the Manchester. And his adviser, Scottish? Are there no Canadians in Canada? Is that why the Toronto airport looked like it was still running off generators?

· Janis was awesome in this episode. I loved that she just kept popping up, especially with the Shakespeare quote.

· So, my crazy Doc Josie theory? Simon’s adviser was reenacting, in miniature, Henry V’s victory at Agincourt. This battle was decided not just by awesome speechifying, but also by the use of the Welsh archers that Simon mentioned—the French were unprepared for the force of the Welsh longbow. In political terms, this meant that England used the technological force of one of its earliest colonies (Wales) to conquer the “bad guys.” Now, think back to the reason Familia Campos went to Canada: so Simon’s education wouldn’t suffer (weird, but whatever). Simon’s educational victories, in other words, are based on the resources of one of England’s later colonies, Canada. The question is: who are the French? Who might Simon defeat? And who will be lucky enough to qualify as one of his “brothers”? Fun fact: while Simon was watching a baseball game (the Detroit Tigers), the Detroit NFL team is the Lions. The first official coat of arms for an English king (Henry II) was a lion—and Henry V’s arms had two lions. Tantalizing, isn’t it?

Quotes:

· Janis: “Dude, you live in a hotel.”

· Simon: “Country is such a loose term. It’s Canada.”

· Simon: “Police types. All about power and intimidation. I could have done this with my trousers on, you know.” Exactly what I was thinking. Only I was thinking “pants” instead of “trousers.”

Four out of four cans of sardines for Samantha.

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FlashForward: Revelation Zero (Part I)

Fri, 19 Mar 2010 02:03:47 -0400

“How did you find us?”

“You called me.”

Lots of answers. Lots of questions. A little bit of ret-conning. A few missteps. And the best use of a take-out menu I’ve ever seen. FlashForward’s return lived up to my expectations by doing something I didn’t expect: focusing on the two most interesting (and thus far, sidelined) characters: Lloyd Simcoe and Simon Campos. Simon Campos, you’ll be interested to learn, is played by some actor named Dominic Monaghan. Seems like he might be one to watch.

Even though “Revelation Zero” is technically one two-hour episode, I’m breaking the review into two parts, because we covered a lot of ground, and—Lost-style—the first two-thirds was very Lloyd-centric with a dash of Mark; the rest, Simon-centric. Maybe you see it differently? As Mark-centric for the first half? That’s because you’re not blocking out the boring parts. It’s all about perception and choosing your own fate.

When last we saw Lloyd, he’d been abducted by PseudoParamedics (darn, I’ve used that one before)…When last we saw Lloyd, he’d been abducted by ErsatzEMTs in front of his son. This episode picked up right where the other one left off, with Lloyd chained to a pipe in a burned-out husk of a FastFood Tofurkey joint. Ricky Jay (evil villain) threatens torture, and quickly brings in an Isaac for Lloyd’s Abraham. But Lloyd, whatever his DeadbeatDad faults before the blackout, isn’t willing to sacrifice more lives to save Dominic Monaghan’s little finger, and he plays it as cool as he can while under some extraordinary pressure. It’s just the threats against his son that break him.

The focus on Lloyd also gave us some important glimpses into Simon’s character. He’s been a fairly cheesy evil genius so far, and a lot of the dangled niblets have pointed us in the direction of ConfusionLand. But Lloyd clued us into an important fact about Simon: Lloyd couldn’t imagine Simon killing someone. This felt a bit like ret-conning, as Lloyd and Simon didn’t seem that close or that trusting when we saw them duking it out over five-card stud in “Playing Cards with Coyote.” But I’m okay with the shift: in this episode, I felt like Lloyd and Simon knew each other, and knew each other well. They didn’t need to talk extensively, because it felt like they had their own shorthand and their own way of working together. Their scenes in the TofurkyTortureChamber felt honest, and made me like Simon’s character instead of just the actor who plays him. He’s not a condescending jerk with his friends.

Sadly, Mark still isn’t very impressive to me. It’s too bad that his flash is so important to the plot, as his death would not be a great tragedy to anyone but his daughter. (I think I’m becoming an Olivia/Lloyd shipper.) His therapist gave him some sort of drug to help him recall the rest of his flash, and what he recalled helped him save Lloyd and Simon. It also set up a few more “Oh! I remember that from the board!” moments for future episodes. More on that in a sec.

Mark’s short conversation with Olivia wasn’t quite as great as the Lloyd/Simon (or Demitri/Janis) exchanges, but it did set up some character changes for Olivia: she feels like she’s been cold and distant at work, and grumpy at home—she also feels like that’s not really who she is, and that she wants to get back to her true self. We saw a bit of that when she was nice to Nicole, and to Lloyd’s son.

Mark also saved the day with his Buick (for a Doc Jensen-level analysis of the significance of the Buick, see Part II). More importantly, he saved it with the take-out menu that Lloyd tried to use as an SOS, with little success. I’m completely enamored by the significance of that take-out menu. To review: Lloyd tries to stick it out the window of the basement, but it blows away. Ricky Jay finds it, and brings it back to him. He sticks it in his pocket. Mark recalls the menu from his recalled memories of the board, and hunts down the location of the basement where Lloyd is held captive. When Lloyd is rescued, he gives the menu to Mark to stick on his board.

Lloyd says, “How did you find us?” And Mark says, “You called me.” Mark is talking about the cell phone call from his flash, but what his words mean something else to us: the menu from the flash called out to Mark for aid. The future called out to the past. It’s gorgeously poetic. No matter how many self-consistency issues it brings up. I’ll leave the science stuff to our highly-paid consultant, WhyMe.

The Lloyd/Mark exchange is particularly interesting in light of the twinning that’s going on with their characters. A luv-connection with Olivia. Kids of similar age. The thing with the laptop: Olivia hugging Mark as she watched herself hugging Lloyd on-screen. The awful preacher character talked to Nicole about how free will and fate are intertwined, and the characters of Mark (who feels fated to drink) and Lloyd (who is certain of the possibilities of free will, using the scientific evidence of Al Gogh to prove his thesis) are just as intertwined. They’re not FlipSides of the same coin—it’s messier than that. And I like that it’s messier than that.

Flashes:

· I’m not going to talk about the preacher, because I don’t really care. Everything he said was extremely trite. Some of it was so trite as to be unintelligible.

· I am going to talk briefly about Nicole’s mother, mostly because I think Lindsay Crouse is awesome. She played Maggie Walsh in Buffy Season Four, and an equally screwed-up psychologist in David Mamet’s House of Games. Plus, those were great fluffy angel wings. Where does a person get something like that?

· The Significant Object in the credits was the burning Bible. Interesting: the Bible also tells us how the world will end—what the future will be like, in other words. But flashes are more personal, and therefore freak people out more.

· Gotta say it again: John Cho? So very cool. I wish he’s successfully hit the CIA agent.

· Did Bryce call a patient “Mr. Minkowski”? Maybe Fisher Stevens’s consciousness flashed to FlashForward.

· The new possibilities of the board—and the phone call…What do you think? It feels to me like the producers realized they had a convenient loophole, since what we’ve seen of Mark’s flash was so short, and they made use of it as best they could. You can only pull that rabbit out of the hat once, though.

· There were cuts between Olivia singing to Lloyd’s son, and Mark confessing to Aaron. The cuts seem to be a tacit acknowledgement of the extremely boring quality of Mark’s issues, but they also show how Olivia and Mark can be pulled apart: it’s not just his drinking, it might be her attachment to the boy, too.

· There were quite a few moments when the writers seemed to be acknowledging fan questions. It was nice the first few times.

· The music for this episode was darn good.

Quotes:

· Simon: “I know America was founded by Puritans, but is there really not a single beer in this entire place?”

· Simon: “I’d say working for the FBI is going to be much more interesting than academia.”

· Janis: “That’s a big word for such a little man.” Ha! Janis is so cool. I wish she would stop getting injured.

· Ricky Jay: “You may call me Flosso. And I’m the villain.”

· Lloyd: “Clearly you weren’t paying any attention to the FBI agent who killed himself.”

· Mark’s daughter: “You always start with the corners and work in…Start with the corners, Daddy.” I hate precocious advice from adorable children.

Three and a half out of four Tofurkey Soy Cheese Steaks. Cuz I’m deducting points for that preacher.

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Fringe: Johari Window is a Real Pane

Mon, 18 Jan 2010 12:01:15 -0500

“I guess that folks with that kind of deformity don’t tend to leave home.”

This episode was supposed to have been about freaks pulling together. Walter, Peter, Olivia, and Astrid forming a tight little bond of society’s outcasts, and the people of Edina doing the same. But, instead, it was a disastrous, offensive, and clumsy example of how cruelly the world treats people who are different, and it seems completely unaware of exactly how offensive it is.

I waited a few days to post my review, hoping that I would change my mind and realize that this episode wasn’t quite as bad as I’d originally thought. It didn’t work, and all I got for my patience was a lousy title-pun. To sum up:

Secret government experiments on how to hide a solider in plain sight morphed into an Agent-Orange-level disaster. The electro-magnetism that could be used to alter perception wound up having an effect on what was being perceived. The test subjects became deformed, and passed those deformities onto their children. These deformities are not life-threatening, but cosmetic: the people wind up with bumpy faces, similar to some of the effects of Proteus syndrome.

The people of Edina, once they realize what’s going on, decide to keep the electro-magnetism machine running (thereby insuring that the next generation, and the next, will also be disfigured) so that they can “appear as they truly are,” even to each other. None of the residents of Edina ever leave town, because out in the real world people can see how awful they look.

There have been rumors in the surrounding county of a group of “beasts” or “monsters,” but no one ever manages to take a picture of them until one lost boy is picked up by the State Police and unmasked as The Ugliest Boy in the Universe. Fellow Edina residents break into the police station, kill everyone who looks normal, and grab the boy.

Enter the Fringe Division. Even though they figure out right away that these “beasts” are humans with some sort of crazy capability, they continue to refer to them as beasts, monsters, and its. Their point of view is adequately summed up by Astrid, who is horrified when Walter brings her a moth with—gasp!—a deformed wing. She looks both angry and nauseous: how could Walter play this cruel joke on her? Doesn’t he know she hates moths? And a deformed one, to boot?!

Peter, meanwhile, comes under fire and shoots at the beasts, but doesn’t feel bad about it until he discovers that the beast isn’t ugly after all (they’re still in range of the electro-magnetic thingamabob).

Throughout the episode, different people referenced animals: Walter felt an affinity for the cowardly lion, for example. But Fringe Division never felt an affinity for the people of Edina, although they do come to feel pity for them by the end. They also support the Edina-residents’ decision to stay hidden from the world, because, after all, they are so hideous that they could never have happy, fulfilling lives outside of their little bubble. In which, let me remind you, they don’t even appear as they really are to each other. The Edina residents would rather kill people than show the world how they look, which makes them—in my book—moral monsters, but Fringe Division is okay with this. Perhaps they have lower standards for the truly ugly.

Astrid’s prissy, tight-lipped disgust at the moth with the little wing was really what got me, especially as it reminded me of a great story about a fish with a little fin, Finding Nemo. Nemo’s little fin is a point of some concern for him, but he quickly realizes that it doesn’t matter and he’s just as good as all of the other fish. And he’s a kindergarten-age fish. To feel such disgust at a harmless animal that isn’t beautiful by her standards…well, Astrid is really going to have to do some work to make me like her again.

But Peter and Olivia weren’t much better—see above re: beasts and its, instead of, y’know, people. The treatment of Walter was interesting: he had participated in the experiment early on, but had left before it reached any sort of conclusion. Considering the crimes he has committed that we are expected to forgive him for, it’s extremely telling that the writers weren’t willing to make this part of Walter’s backstory. Killing a lab assistant is evidently a forgivable sin; making people into ugly animals is not.

We were supposed to feel like Fringe Division and the people of Edina were all different, and that was a point of commonality among them. Peter and Olivia discussed how she felt like her job made her “less and less normal,” (remnants of a scene that was cut in the final version) in their heart-to-heart du jour. And Walter, of course, is always off the reservation. But the comparisons don’t line up. The Fringe Division doesn’t pity itself, and they don’t hide what they do because they would become too hideous for mass consumption: they hide what they do because people would be freaked out by shape-shifting supersoliders and a war of alternate dimensions. That’s not who they are. It’s what they do for a living.

I think—although it was such a spectacular failure that I’m not sure—that we were supposed to say to ourselves “How sad that the world cannot accept these people as they are, and that they cannot even accept each other.” But the conclusion of that trite observation is that people who are different should hide their differences, that beauty is an absolute standard and not one based on popular discourse that could easily be reframed, and that we should segregate all non-normative people to keep the world from being horrified, even though non-normative people are just as much a part of the world as the normals.

This episode drew a clear line in the sand between normals and freaks, pretty and nausea-inducing, heroic and piteous. Those lines aren’t clear, and they are completely arbitrary. Normal is only what you make it. Freakish just means “not like me,” which is an immature and stupid way of looking at the world. This show tries to push the boundaries of science and plausibility every week, and they could have done something interesting here in terms of actually discussing these issues. Instead, they established clear us-and-them boundaries and patted themselves on the back for doing so.

The Good:

• Walter: “I’m learning to appreciate cowardice.”

• Walter: “Just because no one has documented flying monkeys or talking lions yet doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

• Peter: “Just follow the mooing.”

• Walter: “Well done, Asterix.”

• The secret government project was called “Project Elephant.” It’s an obvious allusion to the Elephant Man, although they couldn’t have known that when they named it; it also refers to the ‘elephant in the room’: the thing that’s looming in the corner even though no one sees it.

The Bad:

• The entire episode.

This is Something Else Entirely:

• The Edina hum? That’s just awesome. As is this odd fact: the famous melody (from Carmen) that Walter sang the wrong words to—when I was in grade school, our teacher had us make up our own words to the song. I still remember them. Trust Walter to find a melody in a sea of white noise.

• Why do airbags never deploy in on-screen car accidents?

• Electro-magnetic perception-altering.

• A Johari Window is a psychological personality tool/test that deals with self-perception and the perceptions of others.

Zero out of four flying monkeys.

(This review was originally posted on billiedoux.com)

Dollhouse: Ghost (1.01)

Tue, 22 Dec 2009 01:12:24 -0500

“There’s nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so.”

My expectations for this episode were rather absurdly ambivalent. On the one hand, I’ve been ecstatic since I first heard that Joss was coming back to TV (and the wait felt like it was killing me). On the other, I knew that pilots in general aren’t my thing; that Whedonverse pilots (or even first episodes of any season) are never the best of the bunch; and that Joss re-did this pilot after some talks with Fox. So then I found myself hoping that the pilot would be accessible enough for non-genre fans, so at least we could get as much Dollhouse as possible.

I think the pilot did just that: introduced a new concept with lots of shine and gloss, gave us a potential formula for stand-alone episodes, and hinted at the possibility of a narrative arc that follows this Alpha thing. All of that was good.

I wonder how the stand-alones will stand up, of course. Echo’s emotional reaction to the kidnappers was tough to watch (child abuse is not funny), but it’s a problem that we, the viewers, know she’ll forget forever within hours. What are the stakes in a plot like that?

Bigger stakes were planted in the Agent Paul Ballard plotline. Tahmoh Penikett is so sexy that I’d watch a show with him reciting the alphabet for 50 minutes. Luckily, it looks like it’ll be even more exciting than that, particularly when the crime-investigation plot meshes with the Alpha plot.

Like Bille, I noticed the lack of Whedonisms, particularly in the Topher scenes. He’s a cross between Xander (lovable geek) and Knox (lovable evil geek), right? At first blush, a few of his line deliveries felt a bit off and not quite Joss-worthy. But maybe that’s the point—he’s not Xander or Knox, so why would he ape their intonations? I’ll bet dollars to donuts that as the actors find their feet we’ll have new speech rhythms and neologisms to add to the fan lexicon.

Joss’s other shows—whether Buffy, Angel, or Firefly—all depended strongly on a sense of place. Buffy was set in the type of mid-sized modern American town where no one knows anyone else, but there’s still only one good coffeehouse. Firefly was about infinite space and the homes we build to keep out the dark. Angel was LA, particularly the not-yet gentrified sections of Hollywood, Echo Park, Angelino Heights, and downtown. The geographical specificity of these shows helped the mythology (vampires, Wolfram and Hart, BlueSun and the Alliance) feel relevant and possible—gigantic developments seem more alive when the setting is self-contained.

It’s easy (too easy for a Joss show) to read Echo as an allegory for the ways that personalities can shift and morph in a different LA, the one inhabited by wannabes, has-beens, and never-weres. But even if we avoid that slippery slope, it raises the question of how this show is going to establish a sense of place while zipping all over LA, and how it’s going to tackle, or create, the gigantic developments, especially when the potential Bad Guys are just as mortal and human as any other human traffickers.

Random Things:

• Loved the Edward James Olmos shout-out.

• Echo’s skirt was so short that I felt old. This is particularly odd given that I’m actually younger than Eliza Dushku.

• Amy Acker: you kick ass.

• Is neural modification the new black? Chuck, Fringe, Dollhouse—there are probably a few out there I’m not watching, too.

• When the dolls/actives are in Spa Heaven, what do they think is going on? Or do they just not care?

• Does geek chic explain Topher’s clothes? Or is Fox just hoping we’re clear on the fact that he’s a techie who probably has a crush on Echo?

I’m curious to see where the show goes from here. And I’m excited to see the next episode.

(Originally published on billiedoux.com)