Grimm season 2 episode 7 review: The Bottle Imp

This review contains spoilers.

2.7 The Bottle Imp

If last week’s errant femme episode left us wondering what ex-enbiest Adalind was up to, then we didn’t have to wait long to find out. The latest caller on Captain Renard’s supernatural hotline was the former witch/presumably current lawyer (unless poisoning people into amnesiac comas has interfered with her probity some), who’d finally decided to get worked up about her mother’s murder. One thing’s for sure about the women in Grimm, none of them do anything in a hurry.

Also taking her sweet time was beautiful Juliette, who for one glorious moment looked as if she may have been written a clumsy but oh-so-welcome exit from her current storyline. Not so, as her recovery was revealed to be a figment of Det. Burkhardt’s pretty little head, and the first of two rug-pulls executed in the episode. Nick’s subconscious may not be the most sophisticated plotter, but I’d have happily swallowed the old “Hey, I remember you” kitchen scene without complaint if it meant an end to this tediously drawn-out Nick/Juliette/Foxy Renard love triangle.

Captain Renard was feeling the effects of the soul-cleansing potion he used to awaken the vague vet, and coming over a little Jack Torrance in the process. Not only was he recalling his and Juliette’s kiss at inconvenient moments, he’d also started typing her name repeatedly into his precinct admin docs with the determination of a nine year old practising their signature. Add to that Juliette mind-morphing Nick into the burly Prince during their own smooch, and, unless Grimm has an heretofore unrevealed power to surprise, it looks as though things are heading in precisely the direction we all predicted weeks ago.

That sums up this whole episode, unfortunately. Grimm remains an enjoyable show with plenty going for it, but the niggling sense that it could be so much better bubbles underneath every instalment. It may just be down to audience familiarity with The X-Files-ish supernatural procedural set-up, but even Juliette, a character so incurious and incapable of joining dots she probably gasps with surprise at the picture every time she finishes a jigsaw puzzle, could have foreseen that the cute little girl was going to turn out to be the real monster. Especially if she’d seen the Angel episode I’ve Got You Under My Skin.

Consistently decent this series though has been Russell Hornsby’s performance and arc as Hank. Who couldn’t love the scene of Nick excitedly showing his partner his toys after inviting Hank to come and play in Aunt Marie’s mystical Airstream? Hank’s grateful realisation that Monroe was the one who saved his life during that ogre-fight last season also paves the way for him to return the favour, and more scenes between the two of them are decidedly on my “yes please” list. Oh, and more from Sgt. Wu comes right underneath that, if anyone out there’s listening.

Which brings us to Monroe, and this week’s wackadoodle C-plot. The introduction of Rosalee’s herb and spice shop was a sage move (all puns intended) from Grimm’s writers, creating a Magic Box-style workplace environment where the gang could gather to right magical wrongs, meet characters-of-the-week and, in the case of Monrosalee, flirt.

While there’s nothing wrong with silly sitcom antics, this week’s medication mix-up caper felt so inconsequential and jarring with the rest of the episode, it couldn’t help but disappoint, despite Silas Weir Mitchell’s considerable comic talent. Now Rosalee’s off on TV-sick mother/real-life maternity leave, fingers crossed that Monroe isn’t left to his own wacky comedy devices too often.

The Bottle Imp then, was something like the TV equivalent of… a tube of toothpaste. Unlikely to rock anybody’s world, it was neither surprising nor massively interesting, and from one end to the other, you knew what you were going to get. Let’s hope for an upturn in next week’s The Other Side.

Read Frances’ review of last week’s episode, Over My Dead Body, here.

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