And so Desperate Housewives ended, and of course, I cried. After eight seasons, the final episode aired here on Sunday – some four weeks after it was shown in the US, and eight days after Kathryn Joosten re-enacted for real her character’s demise. That was particularly poignant, knowing that Karen was really dead, and it was as beautiful an on-screen check-out as I’d ever seen.
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Well, darn it, I just sniffled watching it again!
Ah, Desperate Housewives was a true gem. It shared with Nip/Tuck and (new) 90210 an uncanny sense of where to pin that perfect balance of comedy, drama, scandal and intrigue. It could be laugh-out-loud funny one minute and gasp-out-loud shocking the next. Everyone was impossibly rich and good-looking (but not too beautiful), with a revolving lineup of D-list celebrity husbands – climaxing in the priceless episode where Kyle McLachlan and Brian Austen Green have a food fight.
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It was silly and funny and shallow and absurd
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and just about the most unmissably watchable show on television. Ah, Desperate Housewives, you’ll be missed.
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