Theraflu makes TV better. Sort of.

I’m laying on the couch, watching “Behind Enemy Lines.” In order to save you from the confusion I’ve suffered, let me help you with a little episode viewing guide:

It’s not supposed to be a comedy. That’s why it’s not funny. If you lay there, watching intently and waiting for the ha-ha, you’re going to be waiting a long time.

When Owen or Luke or Andrew Wilson and his buddy the Expendable Guy crash in Bosnia (or wherever), they’ve seen something that the Bosnians (or whoever), don’t want them to see.

Then the rest of the movie is the Bosnian General (or whoever he is) hunting Owen or Luke or Andrew Wilson after something happens to Expendable Guy.

The Bosnian General (or whoever he is) is not, in fact, played by Rowan Atkinson.

The sooner you figure out that he’s not Rowan Atkinson, the less confused you will be.

That’s all. I have to return to the movie now because I think Owen or Luke or Andrew Wilson is about to do something heroic. Or at least something dirty. And sweaty. He’s very, heroically, dirty and sweaty. And doing something.