Episode Report Card Sars: D+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Sex and Death
By Sars | Season 4 | Episode 14 | Aired on 02.06.2001
Outside, Joey asks shyly why Pacey didn't want to "show his wallet in there." He lies again that it's back at the lodge, but Joey cuts him off: "It's in your pocket." Busted, he hands over his wallet; Joey opens it up, and Durex gets a product placement. Pacey sighs. Joey hands the wallet back, shrugs sadly, and walks past him. Okay, I don't see a problem here; just because he has a condom doesn't automatically mean that he expects her to put out. He's just prepared in case they get carried away some night and she changes her mind. Anyway, he purses his lips in frustration and turns to follow her as we go to commercial.
Nikki is still on? Well, good for them. I…guess.
Capeside Memorial Hospital. Dawson slouches into the chapel and finds Grams sitting quietly by herself. He hesitates at the entrance to the pew, then sits beside her with a heavy sigh; she gives him a vintage Grams "well, this sucks, now, doesn't it" smile. Dawson, in a tone of mild surprise: "I don't know why I'm here." Grams: "Well, that's as good a reason as any." Heh. Did Grams come there to pray? "Ohhh, yes. And also for the quiet." When she prays, what does she pray for? It depends: "I pray for those who I love, for those who are no longer with me…what about you?" Dawson turns away from her and flares his nostrils; the back of his hair juts off of his head like a toupee. If he'd just cut it short in the back, he'd have the beginnings of a not-terrible hairstyle. Anyway, Dawson admits that he hasn't prayed in years, and when he did, "it was more of a wish -- something I wanted but couldn't say out loud." "If you could say it out loud…what would you want?" Grams asks. Dawson's eyes fill; he has no idea whether to pray for Mr. Brooks to wake up and start making sarcastic comments, or for him to die, "to ease his suffering." He keeps looking for a sign, "something to confirm my instincts." "What do your instincts…tell you?" Grams asks gloomily, almost as if she fears the answer. Dawson, trying not to cry: "To keep waiting." Grams regards him gently and says, "Then that's what we'll do. Together." Dawson looks at her. Sad piano. This storyline is detestable, but both actors did well with that scene.
Ski lodge. Joey sulks at a picnic table beside the skating rink; Jack approaches and asks if it's just him, or if the lodge has a strong eighties-John-Hughes vibe. Oh god, not John Hughes again. Blabber about tackiness, "nostalgia for a time we never really experienced," fillercakes. Joey admits that she's "just in a funk." Huh? Did they have to pad the running time or something? Jack, in tight close-up: "What's your problem?" Heh. Don't get me started, honey. "Sex is my problem," Joey mumbles. "Sex is always my problem." Yes, clearly. Joey explains that she has "so much conviction about waiting until the right moment, not feeling guilty or obligated -- and I don't!" Jack nods, then asks her if she's ever considered that there isn't a "right" choice here, or a "wrong" choice, just "a bunch of choices." She thinks that over, then whimpers, "You're a real help." Jack squints at her and says that "there's nothing to figure out here -- it's only what you feel." "Well, I feel fear." Yeah. WE KNOW. Jack philosophizes that "the only really exciting things in life require more courage than we currently have," and we have to make a leap of faith, and "the kind of fear that [Joey's] talking about" is sometimes the only way we know what's worthwhile. That's not bad advice, but I can see Joey not finding it terribly helpful. Joey's face melts some more.
Mr. Brooks's bedside. Dawson slumbers in a chair next to the bed as -- oh, for the love of Matlock, it's Andy Griffith. Dawson wakes up and recognizes him as the guy who stole Mr. Brooks's one true love. There's some confusion regarding Dawson's relationship to Mr. Brooks. Andy says that Mr. Brooks wrote him a letter last month asking "for forgiveness," but "the only person he ever hurt was himself," and he thought about calling after Ellie died, but didn't, because he realized "how much greater [Mr. Brooks's] hurt would be than" his own and how he had Ellie and three kids and blah blippety blee, but Mr. Brooks would always have "that part of your soul you give your first love." Could we stop it with the first-love fooferaw? Please? Andy adds that, when Mr. Brooks goes, "he'll be with her. I suppose that's the way it…should have always been." Then Andy thanks Mr. Brooks for writing, and for waiting until he could say goodbye. All the teeth in my head rot and fall out. Andy starts to leave, but Dawson stops him, saying he doesn't know what to do. Andy says that what's "required -- is a little faith." Dawson blurts out that he doesn't have that; in fact, he doesn't know what that means. "Faith is believing in something when common sense tells you not to," Andy homilies, and refers to Miracle On 34th Street, saying that Mr. Brooks believed he could find the answers to life's questions in the movies: "Crazy idea, huh?" "Not so crazy," Dawson smiles smugly, and as I slip into a diabetic coma, Andy leaves and takes the sad piano with him, and Dawson folds his arms and mulls.