‘Entourage’: Crash and burned

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Sigh. Ashley. Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the water, the little saltine has returned, still looking like she could use some calories, but now lonely and penitent and willing to forgive E’s short(ahem)comings. As someone who can’t understand her appeal, it confounds me that E still “kind of” likes her and that she remains a storyline on this show. Can’t the focus be on E’s work? Why can’t he fly solo for a while, and save us the bedroom romp? Maybe it’s because she’s the anti-Sloan. Sloan, who, let’s face it, looks great but whose flippety-floppedness has become unbearably stale and who really needed to get the heck out the picture. Calling E to make sure he’s not mad at her? Inviting him out for “friendly” drinks while relaying that she has a potential boyfriend? Girl can’t have her cake and eat it too. Thank goodness E (finally) wised up enough to cut these stubborn ties, once and for all. Sloan had her well-connected stilettos on E for far too long, and it’s about time this drawn-out triangle was broken. I just wish it didn’t send him scurrying into Ash-e-ley’s arms.

The other big story line this evening was Andrew’s complete and total meltdown. Slurry Andrew, who was first seen passed out on Ari’s red sofa, looking like someone who had been transported from a normal bed to his boss’ office in some kind of prank. Marlo still hasn’t taken back the wayward philanderer, and without sufficient funds (and with the conscientiousness not to use company funds) to check himself into a hotel room, Andrew has taken to shacking up in the office itself, and Ari’s couch proved a far more comfortable fit than his own. (Loved the passing image of Andrew in his pajamas, holding a garment bag in one hand and a slipper in the other, and crossing the lobby of MGA like it was the Hyatt.) Andrew’s seams are busting loose despite his impeccably looking Polo jammies, and his crumbling personal life, sleeping pill dependence and precarious ways have set Ari on high alert. Particularly with the uber-important Aaron Sorkin meeting on the line.

Of course, Andrew ended up missing the meeting, as his Aaron Sorkin notes, his estranged wife, and his dignity were all locked up in his house and out of reach. And all the crap hit the fan when, after an epic, balls-to-the-wall shouting match though the glass door, Marlo pulled a “Waiting to Exhale” and set Andrew’s precious Sorkin notes on fire and sent Andrew and his Caddy into a tailspin and literally crashed into his own living room.

But it all worked out for the best, apparently, because had Andrew not gone batty and gotten himself incarcerated, then a) we couldn’t have seen him in that fetching orange jumpsuit, and b) he might not have sealed the deal with a sympathetic Aaron Sorkin. And then Andrew and Ari wouldn’t have shared that tender moment of palm solidarity through the looking glass.

In other news: Vince employs Israeli security to alarm his home. And though this looked promising in last week’s previews (security dude Eric Cohen was played by the great and wacky Peter Stormare), the actual story line fell a little short of expectations. Stormare, with his sleazily slicked-back hair and black on black Miami Vice outfit, was somewhat underused in this role, merely spouting some high-end lockdown jargon and directing Drama to be dumped in a bathtub during a practice run. But he did find out the stalker may be some guy named Curtis Tucker, who may have a penchant for male undies, but can’t seem to keep his driver’s license in his wallet. And who also kind of looks like the love child of Conan O’Brien and Fido Dido.

What do you think? Is this really and truly the end of Sloan? Are E and Ashley destined to last? Will Andrew ever get his act together?

—Allyssa Lee