Right before this episode begins, we see Elaine copping a feel on some military type as she tells us that Ally McBeal is coming up . The uniformed man barks in a not-at-all-intimidating voice, "Continue, and I'll have to seek disciplinary action!" Elaine says, "Oh, I know," as she continues fondling his arm. I sigh. That Boot Camp promo wasn't really amusing at all, but I'd rather see Elaine dancing with Mark and assorted hot guys for an hour than the dreck that's about to assault me.
Previously on Ally McBeal: Richard's feelings were hurt by Ling's preoccupation with Jackson. Also, John was rejected by Melanie, but no one cared.
Nighttime at Fish & Cage: John's working late when Richard walks in. John says, "Hello, Richard," in almost the same way Jerry Seinfeld says "Hello, Newman." John's always in a bad mood, isn't he? I mean, he's constantly bitching, or making ugly remarks, or yelling out "Balls!" I can't imagine the strain that it must put on his employees. It's a wonder that they don't plot to murder him. Hey -- there's an idea for sweeps.... Richard tells John that he sounds like Eeyore the donkey. John says, "Perhaps that's the essence of our friendship. I sound like an ass and you act like one." Instead of telling John to go to hell, Richard confides that he and Ling are estranged. He comments on the pathetic fact that he and John work late while their associates are "out living their lives." Then he hands John a subpoena. That's right, everyone. Richard is subpoenaing John to L.A. Get ready for wacky, hilarious, madcap adventures not to ensue.
At the Morning Meeting, the staff is freaking out over Richard's and John's vacation plans, as if anyone at that firm has enough work to make vacation an issue. Richard bequeaths senior-partnership to Ally in their absence. "What?" everyone yells. Then John walks into the conference room in a ridiculous (but still unfunny) tourist outfit. "I Love L.A." starts playing. That song really annoys the shit out of me. It's bad enough that I have to hear "Chances are you'll find me somewhere on your road tonight..." when I'm perusing Celebrity Hairstyle Guide at the local drugstore. Does a Randy Newman revival really need to be staged, as well?
At the airport, John and Richard prissily argue over how much sunscreen they'll need as they rush to catch their flight. Richard whips out a baby carrier from which emanates the remotely controlled sound of a baby's cries. He uses this as an excuse for himself and John to board ahead of everyone in line. I don't know why they bothered. Personally, I prefer boarding last. That way, there aren't any clumsy oafs bumping into me with their luggage while I'm mentally running through my air-disaster fantasy scenarios. See, my plan is always to survive the crash and to save several babies while I'm at it. I also like to imagine all the cool things I'd make with coconuts if I ended up stranded on a desert isle.
My thoughts of re-seeding the human race with a hot pilot after a post-nuclear-war airplane crash are interrupted by Richard's rude remarks to his fellow travelers. He shoves the baby carrier into the overhead compartment. The baby noise starts. John switches it off with his remote as an elderly woman stares blankly. The music plays as if this is supposed to be funny. Richard stands up and addresses the passengers, warning them of the likelihood of a plane crash. His monologue serves to scare everyone, and then to make them aware of the legal services Fish & Cage has to offer. Normally I like Greg Germann, but a little Richard Shtick goes a long way -- especially when it's negated by John Shtick at every turn.
We see the plane land, and then Ally is bellowing into the phone at John while Nelle and Ling look on. All three of the women are dressed bizarrely. Ally's mostly brown outfit has green twill sleeves. Ling is wearing a huge gold rose as a necklace pendant. Nelle is wearing all black with the exception of what appears to be a red diaper. We learn that the captain of the plane has ordered Richard not to speak throughout the flight. John wants Ally to research the legality of this request.
Back on the plane, the fat guy sitting to Richard is passing gas very audibly. Haw, haw. The hatred of fat people on this show just never, ever, ever gets old. Never. It'll always be exactly as funny as it was the first time. Richard pulls down an oxygen mask, causing an alarm and some sort of turbulence. The thing we know, he's being led off the plane in handcuffs. He makes a couple of cracks about L.A. law enforcement. "Repugnant!" John yells. Shut the hell up, John. God, you make me sick. It takes three cop cars to escort Fish and Cage off the tarmac.
The thing we know, Richard's on trial. John's annoying voice rings out over the courtroom. "First class turned into a police state..." and "repeatedly expressed himself through flatulence," he says. He goes on a long rant about the discomforts of air travel, the likes of which haven't been heard since the last time I had cable and used to watch stand-up comedy from the early, early nineties. It wasn't funny then, either. The judge dismisses the case. Richard starts to speak, but John discourages him firmly.
We're forced to hear Randy Newman sing again as Tweedledork and Dumber hang out of a limo's sunroof and wave to blondes. This is only the first quarter of what will prove to be the longest, most irritating episode ever.
I watch another promo for Boot Camp and decide that I would either like to be a drill sergeant, or else just date one. I love the bitter sarcasm that drips from these men's mouths. "Kiss your wife!" screams one of the evil ones at a contestant. He holds a photograph of the contestant's wife up to the man's face. Then he turns the photograph to his own face and screams at it in its turn. This stinging yet flippant cruelty is, to my heart, like the hot pepper that makes my Thai chicken curry all the sweeter. If only someone would yell at John and Ally like that...
In the hotel room, Richard verbalizes plans to hang out at the pool and pick up chicks. This causes John to fret in his visor and paisley shorts set. Richard talks him out of his worry-warting. Out at the pool, the two idiots are awed by the sight of Alexandra Holden's skinny, wet body. "Play That Funky Music White Boy" plays as they approach her lounge chair. Richard smooth-talks the blonde, whose copious amounts of eye shadow and lipstick are amazingly intact after her swim. She introduces herself as Jane...Jane Willkommen? Something like that. Within five minutes, old Jane's following Richard to his hotel room. John is left alone to squirt a whole bottle of sunscreen onto his thigh. That was and will be the only funny part of the entire episode. Bernadette Peters appears at a nearby table. She and John greet each other, and then she starts to cry. I'd cry, too, if I'd just realized that I was about to be John's latest romantic interest.
Upstairs, Richard and Jane dance the Hustle. Jane learned it from watching VH-1, she says. She does that hard-core back-arching thing that chicks sometimes do when they're really skinny and wearing bikinis on TV. If I were one of those skinny, bikini-wearing characters with no intelligence or sense of humor, I'd probably be arching my back and Hustling with Richard, too. Jane tells him that he's fun, and then asks whether he's rich. He says he is, and that it's all hers if she'll make him happy. He says it in a kidding way, not a soliciting way, but the cops who are eavesdropping don't realize this as they break down the door and place Richard under arrest.
We get to see Ally and the other females of Fish & Cage fret for a few seconds as Richard uses his one phone call to explain his predicament to them. Either it's the same day, or it's the day and everyone's wearing the same clothes. Okay, I understand the three-hour time difference, but I still wonder how John and Richard have been able to fly from Boston to L.A., get detained by police, go to trial, and then check into their hotel all in the same morning. Ally tells Richard to take his cell, and promises to track down John. I don't understand why Richard didn't call John in the first place, or why the warden would let him keep his cell phone, but whatever. At this point I'm just glad that they aren't playing Randy Newman anymore and that John isn't on screen.
Dammit...John is on screen, listening to Cassandra (Bernadette Peters) tell her sob story. She and her ex-husband had a prenuptial agreement stipulating that she'd forfeit all alimony and community property, except for $100,000, if she had an affair. So she had an affair. However, her husband had an affair, too. We're supposed to feel sorry for her because she's faced with losing her art studio, and because the man who seduced her had been hired to do so by her husband. John is so caught up in the gross unfairness of this tale that he ignores the ringing of what must be his cell phone. Cassandra is wearing a tiny crucifix pendant and showing a tiny bit of cleavage underneath that. Those Broadway chicks are experts at the tiny amounts of cleavage. Ever notice that? My heart bleeds as I consider the cruel hand that fate has dealt this tragic character. She signed the prenuptial agreement, then lived off her rich husband's money until she had an affair, and then only got a measly $100,000. And then...to find out that the man for whom she threw away all her alimony was only a sham lover... Oh, I'm just aching inside. A bit player walks up and bends over so that the camera can immortalize her not-tiny amount of cleavage while she tells John that he has a phone call. I wonder how much a person gets paid for that. I mean, there's probably a two-line bit-part rate for sure -- but is there an extra five bucks thrown in for the boobage?
John sits in Richard's cell, in his seersucker jacket over shiny blue shirt, and confers with his friend. Richard explains that he's found out Jane is a call girl, but that he didn't "fraternize" with her in any way. Later, at her own cell, Jane explains to John that she's actually an escort. She thought that Richard was the date she was supposed to meet by the pool. She only goes on dates -- she's "just an escort." She thought that Richard was "just a weird old guy who liked disco." John says he'll represent Jane if she tattles on her employer. She doesn't want to because her employer is also her agent, and she expects him to get her actual acting jobs in addition to escort ones. John says, "Blah, blah, blah," and the scene ends.
Sadly, it's only followed by another scene involving John. He has a drink with Cassandra and babbles about his hopes for the case. Cassandra reveals the sad fact that she's had to lease an apartment. She's had to "scale down a little." Hey, maybe she could get a job or something. Maybe Jane can hook her up in the field of escortology. John starts up his own hook-up -- the "Will you be my client and then hit on me after the case?" technique of his own design. He thinks he can have Cassandra's prenup declared void by reason of entrapment. "I'd be glad to take a whack at you," he says, then stutters and corrects, "...at it." Cassandra says, "Are you a good lover? Pokip, pokip, pokip...lawyer?" It was actually almost funny when she did it. John makes his "wow, I'm intrigued by people who make fun of disorders" face. Cassandra wants him to whack it. His nose whistles. Gimme a stick...I'll show you people some whacking.
I hate it when the episode's boring as hell, but there's still enough of a plot that I have to spend time explaining what's going on. Everyone's in court again -- even the prosecuting attorney from the trial. The judge dismisses this case, too. Jane is so happy, she wishes that she could repay Fish & Cage in some way. Richard asks whether she can introduce him to Cindy Margolis. No, she can't, but she can accompany them on fun-filled afternoon at Venice Beach while the Beach Boys play! So she does. I think that's Venice Beach, because they're skating. I don't care enough about Los Angeles to know for sure, though. Sorry. It's late afternoon of this everlasting day as Jane and our antiheroes chat at an outdoor café. Long story shorter -- Richard will get Jane out of her two-year contract with her "agent" if she agrees to Hustle with him again. Jane would have danced with Richard whether he gave her free legal aid or not, she says. Woohoo for them, then.
John and Cassandra meet with Cassandra's ex and his lawyer. The snaky L.A. lawyer stereotype babbles for quite a while about contracts and principles. "Shame," he tells John. The bells toll dramatically as John pours water in his special, annoying way. He spits out arguments about fidelity being a "bilateral equation." He compares Cassandra's ex's actions to "a cheap episode of Temptation Island." Wait -- does he mean an episode with a lower budget? Fewer boat rides, maybe? John goes on to say, "I will get you," three times for emphasis. Cassandra's ex's lawyer looks totally busted, like the actor playing him was paid to do. We're supposed to realize that he will settle because John's iron-clad legal eagle-ry has scared him out of doing otherwise.
In some unknown L.A. counterpart to The Bar, some blonde white woman sings while three black women back her up. I suspect that she is Taylor Dayne. If she's not, she might as well be. Richard and Jane dance. Richard slobbers over all the scantily clad women surrounding him. He tells everyone that he's going to show them a new dance. He and Jane start doing the Hustle and before the song's over, the whole bar is doing it in sync. Yeah, like that dance doesn't suck. They should have just done the Macarena. Ai.
John and Cassandra sit on a moonlit balcony somewhere and discuss their case. She explains that she only slept with the hired seducer because he seemed "gentle and honest." She goes on to say, "She hurt you, didn't she -- this Melanie?" Dang...they've known each other for one day and he's already been moaning about Melanie to her? How lame. Cassandra begs John to dance with her. He cranks on some Tony Bennett. Tony sings, "What a difference a day makes." Oh, I get it. Hardy, har! John and his Love Interest O' the Week dance and fade to black.
I thought the episode was over, and I was so glad. It was only a sick illusion, though. Jane teaches Richard and John to scuba dive in the hotel pool. John consequently shows up for his legal conference with blue lips. "Your lips are blue, John," Bernadette Peters says with a weird accent. She kisses John and he acts like a scared little girl, like he always does when a woman shows the bad taste to kiss him. Oily L.A. Lawyer comes in and offers to settle for $3 million. The offer's good for one day only, he says, before leaving them to confer. Cassandra wants to settle, even though John advises against it. He tells her to leave the room in a pissed-off manner. This is his ploy for netting her more money. I wish Perry Mason would kick John's ass.
Meanwhile, Richard meets with Jane and Frankie, her polyester-clad agent. Frankie agrees to let Jane out of her contract for three percent of her future earnings as a legitimate actress. He also wants tickets to the Golden Globes when she wins one. I guess he couldn't say "Oscar™." Richard and Jane agree to this ridiculous proposal, since the only thing that matters is the cleavage Alexandra Holden is showing through the laces of her white halter top.
Richard and John meet back at their hotel room and discuss the fact that John got Cassandra $4.2 million. Wow. Where's the shining armor? What would the foxy women of Los Angeles do without such heroes? Jane shows up to thank Richard again. John makes himself scarce so that Jane can ask Richard to stay in L.A. for one more day. He's too chicken. How weak. What, he doesn't own his own law firm? He can't call in sick if he wants? Jane moves forward as if to kiss Richard. He blows the scene by asking if he can take a picture of her naked. She blows it harder by saying, "If you want to see me naked, you're gonna have to stay a few more days." The piano plays softly as if this dialogue isn't completely skanky. Richard gives his "you're an actress in Los Angeles and I'm a lawyer in Boston" goodbye speech. Jane still wants to walk him to his car, though.
At the airport, Cassandra shows up to give John a painting called "Gentle Soul" or some shit. She didn't even paint it herself, either. It's by "an unknown artist." Does she own a studio or a gallery? Or maybe it's actually a thrift store. She thanks John for the hope he gave her, and asks permission to kiss him goodbye. "I suppose...if you must," Smoove Chickenshit John says. She kisses him like the desperate loser she must be. Jane and Richard hug goodbye. I wonder if Alexandra Holden refused to kiss Greg Germann. Maybe she was scared I'd kick her ass. I'm so over him, though. This John-filled episode has killed the last remnants of any love I might have felt for old Greg. Sorry, buddy. John and Richard take a sober limo ride to the airport and the episode finally, mercifully, ends.
week: Larry and Jackson "go toe to toe," and "guess who gets caught in the middle?" Hint: it's the most annoying-ass namesake on the show. Also, Elaine has a "secret" affair, which means that she kisses some guy while Larry and Ally watch from twenty feet away.