Show got me, you guys. I'm so pissed right nowâ¦
Okay. The task: create an in-store "interactive retail display" for the Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith DVD and the Star Wars: Battlefront II video game, using LucasArts's graphic design, photography and structural engineers. You could also phrase this as "Your task is: I dare you to fuck this up."
Clay, and Brian and Marshawn, of all people, take this dare, and succeed immensely. Clay demands to be the Cap Edge PM due to the heinous persecution he in no way received last week, and is given the honor in the hopes that he won't actively ruin everything out of sheer vindictiveness. While he weighs this attractive possibility, he ultimately decides to be a figurehead, letting Alla do every single thing we see, and then swooping in to present his wonderful idea at the last second. Because Alla rules, they win. (Felisha and Adam? They stand around looking like total douchebags in Star Wars costumes, and speak a combined total of six words the entire episode, all of which are differently-accented variations on, "Yes, Dark Lord Alla." It is hella tight. And to be perfectly honest, it's the fact of their pageantry that is douchebaggy -- Felisha looks beautiful and clear-skinned in her makeup, and Adam, with his neo-maxi-zoom-dweeby vibe, randomly makes for about the hottest Padawan on this or any other planet. But now I've said too much.)
Meanwhile, Excel (with the exception of super-cute super-geek Randal) has never even heard of the Star Wars franchise, because apparently it was all Die Hard at the multiplex the whole time they were on rumspringa. Brian assumes the PM rule in spite of this, because Randal's exempt and thereforeâ¦something, I'm not entirely sure yet about that thought process.
Confused Manhattanite Brian gives them a fifteen-minute lead time to get from Trump Tower to the studio in Chelsea (get me talking like I know what the hell that means, although with these stakes, I wouldn't give myself fifteen minutes to get to the curb), and Excel misses their meeting with the executive judges altogether. Seriously. By contrast, Capital Edge has a great conference with the guys, and Alla takes amazing notes ("WHO IS DARTH VADER?").
It is at this point that things stop making sense. New York has three suns, Randal must give Excel the rundown of all six movies, and everybody morphs into a Star Wars character. Randal is Yoda, handing out wisdom like candy; Alla is (still) Palpatine, cornering the entire universe using her mind powers; Adam is worthless as five Anakins and Felisha worthless as five Amidalas; Clay becomes Lord Pissious, a little-known Sith who rules by warping whatever anybody says into something crazy about how awesome he is; Rebecca is Chewbacca who comes through in a pinch; Brian is like a brain-damaged Han Solo; and Marshawn isâ¦oh, Marshawn. I'm terribly angry and sad to have to tell you this, but Marshawn finally reveals herself asâ¦Darth Markus.
A half-hour before the presentation, she wusses out because she's afraid the whole crappy thing will rest on her presentation skills, so she passes on her only responsibility: giving the presentation itself. Because Brian is a yakking freak when he tries to do this, he doesn't really wanna do it, and Rebecca finally steps up and does a pretty great job. Meaning that Marshawn did nothing but sit back and quietly criticize and hope that she was contravening the right things to insure her safety in the event of a loss. It's the most unearned, brain-bending, ridiculous turn to the Dark Side sinceâ¦you already know what I'm going to say. It's horribly fucking disappointing.
In the Boardroom, Darth Markus again rears her perplexing, terrifying head, pointing fingers every which way and babbling herself into obscurity instead of just admitting she had no faith in the project that Brian and Randal designed, painting herself into such a crazy corner that she ends up basically having to say that her shadowy goal was to help Rebecca "prove herself" and add value to the team. Which is nuts, and half the time she says this exact same thing but says it was some kind of Brian-husbandry she was trying, to, like, bring them both to bloom. It's gross.
After the longest Boardroom ever, in which Trump keeps calling Marshawn "Martian," he fires Brian for missing the client meeting, then waits a beat, then fires Darth Markus for being a total fake and a phony. Down in the cab, Darth Markus blabbers literally the entire time about how much Brian sucks, and I know he's tiny, but he's sitting right there, Marshawn! God! Due to Brian's incredible emotional delicacy, he doesn't even seem to know what has happened until the last second of what's now the second or third best cab ride this season, maybe ever, sighs disgustedly, and then stares brokenly right into the camera, mentally calculating the fact that he should be home by now.
It's a bummer on one hundred different levels, right, and then we see the task for week: write and record an original song for XM radio. Which means more godawful singing. I'm sure Adam will be on a team by himself and the rest of the cast will be living it up in Boca while he plays an unplugged set or something. Here are my notes, verbatim:
write/rec orig song XM
DAMN IT
â¦and then there's just a long, long line trailing off the page, like when they find the diary of the last person to survive the plague or whatever. So there's that. But more importantly: What The Hell, Marshawn?
Yeah, this one's long, but it's mostly because of the quizzes, so can you forgive me? We start with Clay's glorious, pissy, horrific "Don't talk to me" and slamming door routine from last week's post-Boardroom. Alla and Felisha look up at Clay's super-drama and he duck-walks past them with his little orange bag, wearing a face that to me is about one-third triumph at surviving, one-third vindication of his persecution complex, and one-third really scary nihilist Fuck This, Fuck You, Fuck Everything. Alla characterizes it as "proud," murmuring to Felisha that he was like, "Uh, deal with me." Which is maybe a more succinct way of expressing the equation above, but without using fractions. "Whatever," she scoffs. Felisha snivels, "We're going to have to...[deal with him]," and Alla gets a certain (awesome) look on her hard old pretty face too: "Hell yeah we are." She is my soul sister in this moment, and not because it's Clay: it's because she smells blood in the water, and it makes her berserk and ecstatic. And that's why Jacob works from home now.
As everyone mobs Adam and hugs him and licks their thumbs to wipe schmutz off his face and straightens his tie and pushes envelopes into his hand, Clay interviews that if you "call [Clay] out, and lie and say [he] said something vindictive," he is "going after you." And yeah, way to leave it in the Boardroom, but the second Adam and Alla starting making those vague intimations of nonexistent serial anti-Semitic remarks, it crossed the line from particularly bitchy game play to classless maneuver. But since Clay is regularly both bitchy and classless, color me only theoretically sympathetic.
So now that Adam is back, Alla wants to debrief. Adam sweetly asks to invite Clay along, and Alla gives him a curt and hilarious "No." Felisha interviews that she was really hoping he'd leave -- which, think about what she's saying: She'd take Markus over Clay, and that hurts even me -- and that her fear is that he'll sabotage the team effort, "just to hurt us." She shrugs into the camera: "That's Clay." And I don't really think it is, exactly, or at least not until everybody goes Mirror Universe Bizarro in this episode, because it seems highly unlikely that someone would sabotage the entire team task just to get into the Boardroom, and then hope to escape with his life. The "down in flames/hail of bullets" thing is kind of attractive, but these people are so freaking worn out at this point that I think it would just look like too much trouble, even for someone who's as hurt as Clay is right now.
In their secret Anti-Clay Junta debriefing, Adam explains how he tried to shake Clay's hand, and immediately Felisha and Alla are like, "But he wouldn't do it, of course." Alla laughs about how "he gave us -- gave ME -- the look of death" and Adam remembers tearfully how loud and scary it was when Clay slammed the door. Adam says Clay is "definitely upset," but that's too sympathetic for Alla, who corrects him: Clay "doesn't just get upset, he's vindictive." Felisha, the voice of neutrality and the obvious, points out again that Clay's "going to be on [their] team either way," which is a valid point, and one she tries to make like a hundred times with no acknowledgement. As useless as she appears to be, I think she's pretty competent. I like the way she deals with people, and how she's the Devil's Advocate for Reality a lot of the time when the clique stuff happens: "Sure, he's evil and we're pumped about that, but like, he's on our team, so let's be productive." It's not the first time she's taken this tack, and she's almost always been edited to look a bit more marginal than I think she actually is. But only a bit.
Alla's like, "That does not matter. He's all about vindictive personal shit. He's going to contradict and question everything anybody says, and either way it's going to be hell." Cut to lonely Clay, taking a big old gulp of chardonnay in the kitchen. I wonder if he even tried to get into it with the others, or if he needed a cool-down period. If so, considering his emotional state post-Boardroom, I think he deserves credit for having a chill-out glass of wine instead of going nuts on their asses -- even if, as I suspect, he spent the whole time marinating in the unfairness of it all and fantasies of their eventual destruction. Revenge fantasies are a nice, if utterly unnecessary and usually damaging, part of the chill-out process.
There's a commercial for the Tide-To-Go Sweepstakes. Which I will be winning. It's not the $25,000 I want so much, it's more the opportunity to kidnap Jim and keep him in my living room like the orangutan on Passions, if you got to maybe make out with the orangutan on Passions whenever you want, and if additionally the orangutan looked and acted exactly like Dr. Michael Mancini, with the added intensity of my sweet Rebecca. Plus, he's magic and Martha loves him, and if it's good enough for Martha, then I deserve it. (And yes, I know that most people would rather make out with an orangutan than ever be in the same room with Jim, but all means to me is that nobody would come looking.)
The camera's very herky-jerky around Randal as he takes the early-morning call, which is particularly dismissive, all about how "Don't be late, [Trump's] got a very busy morning." Punctuality is central to a professional persona, don't you find? Giant executives really do live and die by the schedule, don't they. I said don't they?
Into the Boardroom, where Alla's rocking some severe flyaway hair, and Bill's there again as NotGeorge, and everybody looks super-scared and nervous for no reason. Bill looks utterly pants-shitting scared most of the time, this season. Was he always like that? Seriously, it's like he thinks Trump is going to fire him at any time, or pull out a gun and be like, "Dance, monkey, dance!" ["I'd have to go back to those recaps to double-check, but if I recall correctly, I didn't want him to win for exactly that reason; he just seemed overly high-strung to me. Now, it seems like maybe that's just how his face is put together -- that he looks like he just got pulled over all the time." -- Sars] Trump enters, his hair looking particularly silly, and he says, straight-faced, that Bill is "very exciting." He makes the Apprenti watch the trailer for Star Wars Episode III: Revenge Of The Sith, and they all look very excited and wiggly during it, which is awesome, but weird, because the movie had already been out for a long while before this was filmed. I guess just being involved with a super-profitable franchise with no quality control whatsoever is exciting. Randal in particular is getting geeked out, which is adorable. No shots of Adam, whom I assume is confusing this moment with what the grownups mean when they say that word "sex."
Trump talks about how Star Wars is yooge and has grossed over $13B in sales, counting merchandise and digitally fucked-with Special Edition nonsense every five seconds. I'm so superstitious about the Special Edition, you guys. The only DVD I own is the Collector's Edition of Starship Troopers, because it's my favorite movie and I know it has no chance of coming back Platinum. I'm not buying The Matrix until it is somehow packaged with the actual Matrix. I'm not buying Kill Bill until it comes with actual Hanzo steel. I'm not purchasing The Lord Of The Rings until I am assured that it comes with the actual One Ring so I can "bind them all," and I don't even know for sure what that means, but I don't trust marketing wonks, is the point. Rebecca looks freaky happy about all this, but sometimes her intense intensity just causes her face to curl up like that, I think.
The task is to create an "in-store interactive retail display" to promote both the DVD of Episode III and the related game, Battlefront II. Which looks fairly awesome, but I've only seen like five hundred commercials for it since I started typing this sentence. I don't own a video game system due to the Dance Dance Revolution incident of 2004, but I like the idea of a lot of video games. The "in-store interactive retail display" will be in a Best Buy store. The teams will have access to LucasArts's graphic designers, photographers and structural engineers (a.k.a. the people who invented money), and will be judged by a Best Buy and a LucasFilms exec. The instructions for this task are the most detailed of the season, but Trump forgot to explain what the hell he means by "interactive retail display," which will cause problems down the road. Randal is exempt, of course, because of his mutant power of sending out "I feel great" and "this is wonderful" pheromones that make you think he's the most perfect piece of perfection that ever perfected. Trump says, his lack of the irony hormone-producing gland in full effect, "Good luck, and may the force be with you." Everybody laughs nervously, and Carolyn is more beautiful than she's ever been, because to smile that affectionately at Donald Frigging Trump means you're either a full-on bodhidharma or you've had a lobotomy, especially after he says something so embarrassingly dorky.
Alla leads Capital Edge by the hand to the first order of business: choosing a PM. Clay feels that, "after the way [he] was treated yesterday," he "deserves this." This teaches us two very important things about Clay: number one, he honestly thinks like that. "Somebody was mean to me, so I should have ice cream and cookies after school." Not "Give me a chance to make up for last week's abominable performance, which is why everybody was mean to me," but simply, "For some mysterious reason, everybody was mean to me, so now I deserve a wonderful prize." The second thing is that he thinks everybody else is going to be down with that. Thing 2 is the really interesting one, I think. Felisha interviews that there was no vote, that "the PM picked himself," and whines that "none of [the teammates] really wanted Clay to be the PM, because Clay has some very bitter feelings toward the team," and basically fails to answer the question: Then why the hell did you agree to it? The answer to which is, clearly, "So he would stop bitching, and wouldn't totally undermine whoever ended up PM." Which I can appreciate.
In the meeting, Clay says that they want him off the team, according to them, and Alla says that's not true. And I think it's pretty hair-splitting to bring that stuff out of the Boardroom simulacrum -- where they are after all asked whom, out of them all, should go -- into real life, but on the other hand, they totally do actually hate him. Felisha again bottom-lines it, and again I'm glad she keeps stressing this: "Regardless of what happened, we're a team today." This is one of the positive things that Felisha shared with Kristi, even though Kristi actually meant it not at all, and I think Felisha does: "Just get over it. We're all robots here, right?"
Clay goes swimming again in the deep, deep pool of his own emotions about how he needs to "learn to trust [them-slash-Alla] again," which is the kind of flesh-crawlingly needy emotional warfare that is appropriate in zero out of infinity situations. It's giving them the responsibility for stepping out of reality and into the Wounded World of Clay Done Wrong, and if they fail to do so -- which they will, because it's impossible, because he's bughouse crazy -- he gets to be justified in not "trusting" them in the first place. They "trusted" your ass not to be creepy in front of a hundred unemployed New Yorkers, dude. Get that trust back. Only two kinds of people can actually say that crap: the similarly odious abuse-hound Jessica from Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County, and any cast member of Swan's Crossing, which was cancelled when Clay and I were both children.
Felisha's like -- you wonder why I like Felisha so much, but this episode really does it for me -- "Do we want to be led by someone who doesn't trust anybody on the team?" And Clay says, unhinged, "I think you do. I think you do." Adam wonders aloud what the hell kind of logic that is, and then Clay...actually says something smart. "Because I'm going to work harder than anybody else to win this." And that's something I truly do believe: it's the whole Tallyrand/Fouché thing where your enemies have to work harder to impress you because there's not a lot of goopy emotional shit involved, just wounded trust on both sides. Adam agrees it's valid, because if you subtract anything goopy or emotional or less-than-100% analytical from the situation, he becomes really smart.
Clay interviews that he really wants to be PM on this task because "if [he's] in charge and they don't listen" -- and they then end up in the Boardroom -- "it's very easy for [him] to say, 'Hey, I made a good decision, and this person totally disobeyed everything I said.'" Which is fine, if asshatted, but mostly: the "M" in "PM" stands for "manager," jackass. You don't "manage" by hoping people will rebel against you, bringing about your failure, so that you can whine to a higher authority. In a real environment, the higher authority is the bottom line, and it means you don't get to go on vacation that year, or your happy just-slapped ass is fired for reals. Success, for Clay, is the second priority, right after punishing the entire world for his unhappiness. That's not leadership. That's, like, the opposite of leadership.
Fashion Breakdown! Multiple choice:
1. A teammate's impending breakdown necessitates that you stand up strong in his or her defense, even though it's against your better judgment. Do you:
A. Take her defense, and stare at anyone who questions you so hard that they catch fire.
B. Make awesome faces at the camera and try to avoid the question until you can figure out what the cooler, "bolder" blondes think.
C. Fuck that. Bitch is on her own.
D. Vanish into thin air, but make sure to record your disappointment in everyone connected to the situation for the cameras.
2. Your teammate has expressed a terror of sex and sexuality bordering on psychosis. Do you…
A. Keep your trap shut, but vehemently complain in private with the tiniest person you can find.
B. Make awesome faces at the camera and try to avoid the question until you can figure out what the cooler, "bolder" blondes think.
C. Make fun of the kid to his face by saying every dirty word you can think of, and eventually brainwash him into thinking his greatest desire is to discuss sex with strangers.
D. There's no way I'd be caught dead in that situation. Let's talk about networking, instead.
3. The cute but annoying fussy dude on your team is totally taking credit for all your ideas right in front of you! Do you…
A. Stab him in the eye socket, then defend your actions as intensely as possible. Blinking is the enemy!
B. I import all my ideas from Naboo -- that's why these trade agreements are so important!
C. Find yourself bested by him, and commit ritual suicide from the shame, only to rise even more powerful than before and destroy him on the task using your minions.
D. Psshhh. I didn't wanna do it anyway. It was time for him to prove himself. Or it was time for somebody else to prove herself. Or whatever. I hate this task and I'm really sleepy.
4. An illiterate party planner from somewhere stupid screws up everything on your task, except for the HDTV presentation. Do you…
A. Throw the chick down 26 floors and under a bus, then defend the more intellectually-gifted and experienced person using only a knife and your wits. She has brokered million-dollar deals!
B. Make awesome faces at the camera and try to avoid the question until you can figure out what the cooler, "bolder" blondes think.
C. Point and laugh at the stewardess doing pushups for cash.
D. Vanish into thin air, then slip poison into everybody else's wine glasses. You're here to win, not talk to old folks!
5. Which quote best describes you?
A. "Faster and more intense!"
B. "Who's the more foolish: the fool, or the fool who follows him?"
C. "Why do I sense we've picked up another pathetic life form?"
D. "I don't believe it!" "That is why you fail."
Answer Key:
Mostly A: You are an "Utapau." Everybody's scared to death of you -- even though you haven't done anything weird yet -- because you're totally hardcore and look like you'll cut a fella, or like, suck out somebody's blood. Remember, you can never be too rich...or too emotionally extreme!
Mostly B: You are a "Tatooine." Wear desert colors, do not forget to moisturize, harvest water, and keep your head down. Nobody will know you're there, and what's more -- nobody cares!
Mostly C: You are a "Naboo." Dress like an insane freak, and marry the first chucker who comes along as long as you babysat him as a child. Molestation is the new black for fashion-conscious regents!
Mostly D: You are an "Alderan." You have total style, a taste for flattering gowns, and a secretly rebellious -- oh no! You exploded!
Clay does his team the courtesy of asking whether anybody else wants the responsibility this week, and Adam sure as hell doesn't, and Alla merely stipulates that he can be PM if he treats them with respect. Oh, and she also asks for a magical top hat which dispenses Chimay beer and Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds, and never runs dry. Guess which is more likely?
Clay interviews that his strategy is to "get rid of the strong players as fast as possible," but also that he wants his team to win, because he doesn't want to lose. So...his strategy is less a "strategy" in the purest sense of the word, and more of a contradictory set of realities and desires that paint him in the worst possible light. Got it. Alla promises to give him "200% on this task," and he graciously replies, "That's all I wanted." Then they bond over their common enemy: math.
Meanwhile Excel is meeting to sketch out a few things that don't have to do with anybody's huge, gaping need for approval and constant cosseting. Brian wonders who's seen the movie, and instead of everybody, the answer is: Randal. Who has seen all the movies, just like everybody on earth with the exception of the people we're looking at right now. He interviews himself as a "junkie" and talks about his action figures and "collector's cups and mugs." It's awesome. Randal offers to explain the whole series to them, and I'm sure he'll do a great job of it, actually.
Brian explains to us about how Randal is the obvious choice for PM on this task, but he's exempt, so "we all looked at each other with blank looks on our faces." Now, I think that what this means is, there's no incentive, for any of them, to have Randal as PM. He's 2-0 and exempt besides -- it's a glory thing, but also no matter what happens, he won't be in the endgame Boardroom, so you'd be limiting the possible firees from three (33%) to two (50%), which benefits nobody. Marshawn nominates Brian, and he agrees to do it, making clear that he'll need everyone's help "immensely" on the details. I love how Brian's constantly being "destroyed" and having "immense" needs and stuff. So much emotion, in such a small package, tied with such a pretty bow.
The Star Wars music plays over a shot of the Statue of Liberty, which is fuckin' idiotic, and Clay voices us over to the studio to meet with the LucasArts guy, Jim Ward (looks precisely like you think the LucasArts guy would look), and the Best Buy guy, Gary Arnold (looks like a foreign porn director). Clay says they were both "phenomenally" ready to help the team, and it is true: they're both way excited about the whole process of promotion of this DVD. Jim Ward is super-crazy excited about how "Episode III is the last Star Wars movie ever," and "Darth Vader is the world's greatest villain," and "everybody wants to see how Darth Vader came to be." Alla calls them "brilliant" and offers that "the best thing [Capital Edge] could have done is spend as much time as possible with them." Which is a hella weird spontaneous comment, but in the context of this episode, was practically required.
There is a totally hilarious PowerPoint presentation over their heads that looks like this:
The last Star Wars theatrical event ever!
A must own DVD in order to complete your star wars collection
The emergence of Darth Vader
The Ultimate Jedi Action
The answer to all of those burning questions
Hee hee. Marketing blurbs are so moronic on paper. Jim and Gary push other important info, like keeping focus on both the DVD and game being available for purchase. Alla tells us she now has "all the information [she] needed to make this thing successful." She's right. There are handshakes all around, and somebody's Living Strong.
Marshawn starts telling us about the Excel meeting with Jim and Gary, and we hear Brian saying that they should leave the suite by ten o'clock for their ten-fifteen meeting. Which makes no sense whatsoever. Marshawn interviews that "since Brian is from New York," she almost believed him, but expresses "surprise" that "he thought it would only take fifteen minutes to get there." We cut to Marshawn looking worried but doing absolutely jack shit about this obvious misstep. I am going to assign a macro to that sentence, "We cut to Marshawn looking worried but doing absolutely jack shit about this obvious misstep," because we're going to be seeing it a lot today. Ten-fifteen comes closer and closer and closer, and Brian's playing on his computer, doing "research." Cut to Marshawn looking worried but doing absolutely jack shit about this obvious misstep.
She interviews, "I can't make the PM leave if he doesn't want to go!" It's not because he's the Project Manager, though; don't even try to mess with me that you let him do this to the team out of respect for his leadership, Marshawn. Brian, all of a sudden this fast-moving, efficient strong guy of a leader is like, "It's time. 26th and 12th Ave. Let's go." Mapquest tells us it's eight minutes with no traffic from Trump Tower to 26th and 12th Avenue. Nice tip, Miss Alli, o mistress pioneer of verité and extreme recapping. So...eight minutes, okay. With no traffic. And it's mid-morning in Manhattan, so what are the odds there will actually be no traffic? Outlook not so good. ["Even with no traffic, you're just not making that drive in eight minutes." -- Sars]
Trouble hailing a cab? We got that. Leaving the suite after 10 AM? Randal's got that, and he doesn't "like to cut meetings close." Which at this point is an understatement of what they're doing, actually. Gridlock? Why yes, we have that too. Brian and Rebecca, of course, are sitting in a cab going nowhere, and finally call Jim and Gary (Brian interviews to us that traffic was "brutal," and tells Rebecca that it is "killing" him), who are very nice and friendly about it. For the nonce.
Trump's Weekly Wisdom: "Loyalty." There's a group of captured, bored children -- hundreds of them -- covering every surface of Trump Tower, listening to Trump shrieking on and on about how one time there was this interview, and he considered the guy already hired, but then in the interview the guy starts telling Trump "what a creep his last boss was," and this is an example of hateful disloyalty. There's a little girl that looks exactly like Natalie Portman in the audience, and on her face is the same look as every other one of the billions of children everywhere you look: "This gross-looking old man is so freaking boring. I actually hate that I am on a field trip. Who knew that was even possible? It's not supposed to be this way! I would rather be practicing D'Nealian right now with that librarian whose breath smells of ketchup. I'm so young, to have lost so much hope. I am five seconds from starting a riot." And still Trump continues.
"A disloyal person can totally destroy a corporation," he says, and that he ultimately decided not to hire the guy. "If you find a disloyal person, get rid of him or her immediately." To children he says this? "They're no good; they'll never be good; there's nothing worse than disloyalty." Unless you're Markus, and then it's fine, right, Mr. Trump? But so I get really excited, because he's clearly talking about Clay, right? So this whole "Weekly Wisdom Is A Clue" theory I've got going, that points right at Clay's cute little head, right? Nope. "I don't think Robin or Rhona would talk bad about me, but who knows?" The confused kids laugh weakly and we see quick shots of Robin (thinking, "Joke away, old man") and Rhona (all, "If you only knew"), and then there's no more wisdom, and no explanation for all the kids at all.
Now it's 10:30, half past ten, a quarter past the meeting, and Rebecca pushes Brian to call Jim and Gary again and apologize. Brian, bummed, calls them again, talking about how "traffic is really bad right now," and there's a very different tone in Jim/Gary's voice than before: "Well. Get here as soon as you can. [Click.]" Randal interviews sadly about what it is like to show up a half-hour late for a meeting, and then those fools walk in at 10:45, quarter of eleven, half an hour late. So ugly. They're incredibly friendly and nice and apologetic, and the executives...pack up their PowerPoint and projector and sniff, "We appreciate you coming, but we have to go to another meeting." OUCH! Rebecca lowballs it in an interview that this is "not a good sign" and that things like totally fucking up the most important part of the task can leave "a bad taste" in people's mouths. Such as the taste of failure? The taste...of the Cobra? Brian, demoralized yet again, yelps, "We're screwed!"
Oh, that reminds me, I don't know for 100% certain where the verb "to cobra" came from, if I made it up or osmosisized it from somewhere long ago, so I'm not going to claim it necessarily (although I do take full and worldwide credit for "A-Fed"), but I was heartened to see Markus use it in one of his post-Boardroom interviews. Markus, if you're reading this, please email me, because I think I owe you a root beer or something. I promise I won't actually slap you upside your sun-kissed, floppy head.
We see Darth Vader's helmet, then the Capital Edge sign, and then an old-school left-to-right screen wipe, and then Clay's head, and that's like three awesome jokes at once. Clay is asking Alla for her insights about the meeting, and she notes how the execs kept stressing over and over that the central concept, the central question is: "How did he become Darth Vader?" "Darth Vader is our biggest star." "All of your questions will be answered." And the big lie here is that the movie will actually answer the question, which it really doesn't, except in a Markus kind of way where they throw a bunch of confused bullshit at you and hope some of it sticks, and then laugh that you paid for the privilege, and you can't even get mad, because you are the one who paid to have bullshit thrown at you.
There's a whole lot of confused editing here, such that I actually went to the Extra Bonus Footage to clarify, but basically, Felisha -- having been involved with the print stuff on every task (remember? "I love print!") -- wants to contribute by being in on the still photography part of the task, and Alla agrees, because that's Felisha's one skill, but Clay's not having it, because he wants to do this one-on-one with Alla. For the somewhat-stated reason of keeping his main enemy close and cutting her off from her soldiers, but also because he has this complicated projected-anima relationship to Alla of which she is unaware, where basically he needs her approval at least as much as he despises her, and not to do a whole thing about it, but at least four careers have been made due to this dynamic, off the top of my head: Marie Louise von Franz, Walt Disney, Joan Crawford, and Hans Christian Andersen. And yeah, like, if you ever want to read my thesis, let me know, but the point is that Felisha feels crapped on. But not as much as Adam, after Clay says, "I would love it if the three of us were at the photo shoot, but I think that I'm going to leave y'all two here." I wish his "don't talk to me" thing with Adam meant not addressing him directly the entire task. That would be fucking hilarious. "Did you hear something? I didn't hear anything. I guess it was the tight-ass wind. Go on with what you were saying?"
Alla and Clay are hanging with Lord Vader, and it's cute because Clay keeps averting his eyes, not looking directly at him, and I don't think that was specifically edited, but it's funny. Alla's being all director-y, like with the Lamborghini task but without the sound effects, sadly, and Clay's like, "Okay, well, you seem to have a vision of what you want on that," and then he...runs off somewhere. Which Alla is obliged to find outrageous in her interview, even though you know she was actually relieved. We see lots of shots of Chewbacca and Vader posing, and some of it's funny, and then we see what Clay's up to, which is talking to a very cute gay dude, if you're into the whole geek-sweater frosted-tips look. The body language is tricky, but I come down on about a khaki-to-pale yellow level on the Banana Republic scale of flirting, which is to say that Clay's got his hips swayed away, cocking his head slightly toward the guy, and his left knee is trickin' a little bit, like a slight physical stammer, and it's very effective. The other dude is closer to the lemon-yellow side, bent more into the curve than Clay, but he's also taller so that might be a false positive. In any case, they are a couple of attractive guys, and Clay is very charming when he wants to be, which is now, at the very least.
Doesn't really earn Alla's ire here, though ("Flirting! Why the hell do I need Clay there if I'm doing all the work?"), except for how you never find out what Clay's actually doing -- just talking on the phone and flipping through a notebook. I'm sure it's some kind of helpful duty, but you never learn what it is. Alla films a weird three-way shot with Chewbacca and two Storm Troopers, and then there's a hilarious fade from Alla's frustration with Clay to Chewbacca doing the Munch scream in that gargly Wookiee way.
More madness: New York skyline with three suns, lots of models of different Star Wars stuff, and then Yoda fades to Randal (nice) telling everybody about the movies, and this goes on for a while, fading in and out through his various story points, as slightly doofy music plays. Rebecca interviews that they were basically having to rely on Randal "in lieu of the meeting" -- that it was nice to hear "from someone who loves it," but that it wasn't hugely helpful in terms of the marketing history of the franchise, the audience demos for the DVD and game, which is info she says you can only really get from "somebody in the executive chair." Randal says that the point of the movie is the "transition from good to bad," and that they should capture that in the presentation. I guess "covering up Hayden Christensen's slack-jawed look of Markus-like entitlement" wasn't on the PowerPoint.
up is Excel's discussion of the characters that they should highlight: the Chancellor, Obi-Wan, Yoda -- Brian goes, "C-3PO?" and Randal says decisively, "No C-3PO," which tickled me for some reason -- and then Marshawn offers the idea of featuring some newer characters of the movie. And I can see where she is coming from, because that's all my geek friends could talk about (shut up), and even I was quite taken with a couple of characters from the cartoon (shut up!), but, like, you're not marketing Star Wars to people like that, because they already bought it this morning. You're marketing to everybody between them and me, who will never buy the DVD or the video game, because I honestly couldn't care less.
So Marshawn's wrong about her feeling that the newer characters will be a bigger draw, but kind of convincing. Randal points to Western Cultural Archetypes three through five and is like, "Bigger than these guys?" Then Marshawn blows my mind by pointing to my absolute favorite in the entire series, besides Darth Maul, which is the vampire guy made out of wood that was on that planet of wood vampires that Darth Sidious was hanging out on where it's just houses all the away down the Grand Canyon and he gets up in your face all vampire-made-of-wood and is like, "By the way, Darth Sidious is totally here and I need you to freak out on him like I wish a Jedi would."
There's at this point a very short, very verbatim phone call:
Jacob: "What's that planet I liked with that guy who was a …"
Andy: "Utapau."
Jacob: "Thanks."
Marshawn rules because she picked my favorite thing, but sucks because it's for the wrong reasons, for which she continues to fight. She finally says the following backwards sentence to Brian: "I'll defer to you, I just think that we need to have some more impressive visual imagery." What this means is: pick pick pick I hope you're wrong and have to go back to the shoe you live in. Brian hilariously/frustratingly goes, "Randal?" Randal interviews how Marshawn wanted the most "vivid" characters center stage, but that nobody will know who they are. Because they, like the rest of Excel, have simply never heard of Star Wars except for today's life-changing trip to Best Buy. But he's right: you put my vampire-treebark guy up there, they're going to think it's some random sci-fi flick, which isn't branding. "Okay, I just wanted you to consider it," says Marshawn, making the point for the fifth and final time that everyone is wrong, wrong, wrong about something she actually isn't understanding at all. I start to wonder if I'm wrong about her, and maybe she's actually just not that helpful and I've been filling in the blanks for her from the one-on-one interviews -- that the reason we haven't seen her working is that she...doesn't, but that's so awful, I forget I even thought it.
Capital Edge: Alla's cleverness sketches out the whole thing, about how they're going to create a large, open area where you experience the movie at the same time you're playing the game within the branded environment, and she's really articulate about it. Clay looks at her design on the computer screen and goes, "I don't know why you have that centered. I want that moved here." It's somehow bitchier in print than it sounded, but not by much. They talk about having a gigantic Darth Vader and "the big robot, the huge one, he's humongous," hovering over the entire thing, and then we'll put "these two guys" over in another corner, and it sounds kind of thrilling, actually.
Felisha interviews all crazy-like, "Alla is the PM on this task!" Cut to Alla giving specs to the design guy, sitting to him at the computer while Clay leans languorously against things and says shit like, "I'll sign off on that." Felisha voices her regret to us about letting Clay be the PM, and what a terrible, terrible job he's doing. Which normally earns you the short sermon on how if you think like a hammer everything starts looking like a nail, but I can see how frustrating this would be, if it was like we're seeing. Clay as PM is exactly like Clay not as PM, but with even less doing.
There's a commercial that goes, "There is only one APPRENTICE…" and then you see the DVD. That's clever. I didn't mind that at all. But it draws a weird parallel, because if there's only one, that's Randal, right? So is Randal going to get the glowy eyes and [redacted] Samuel L. Jackson? Because that would be sad. It's like I just realized for the first time this movie makes no sense whatsoever. Why does he turn evil? Why does he go, "Noooooooo!" Why is Anakin such a freaking Markus, you guys? No, actually, he's neither of them, he's Adam, you were right.
So now we're at Best Buy, and Clay is being a total turkey, deferring to Alla and moving the cut-outs around wherever she wants them, and fetching things and asking her opinion all over the place. Bill comes in, and watches them moving the things around and building the "interactive retail experience" or whatever, and Clay's entirely up Alla's ass to the point where she giggles and winks at one of the camera guys, like, "Can you believe this guy?" Bill interviews about the "lost" quality Clay's got going, and notes how "every decision that was made" required "affirmation from Alla." Remember the infantilized playschool-pinafore hand-holding at Dick's? Call this Episode III of that:
Clay: "Alla happy?"
Alla: "Alla happy."
Clay: "Alla happy? Okay! Alla eat lunch!"
Baby talk, now. That taste you're tasting? Is my breakfast.
In Excel World, Randal and Brian are moving all the stuff around and building their way less cool exhibit (described by correspondent Aaron S. as totally "seventh grade science fair"), but at least doing it without any goddamned baby talk. Of course, Marshawn's going to present, because A) she's awesome at it and B) it's totally her job, but also C) she hasn't done anything yet. More ugliness out of nowhere: "I love doing the presentations, but I was surprised -- I haven't been asked to do anything that was a key role up to this point." Over discussion of the presentation, she continues about how either Brian wants her to feel like a part of the task, or else -- and this is a big ugly jump here -- he's not "confident" about a win, and thinks it could come down to the presentation. I'm afraid I know what she's saying, but I prefer to think she's not saying she's going to be the scapegoat, and in fact means that he's counting on her to save their asses. Cut to Marshawn looking worried but doing absolutely jack shit about this obvious misstep.
Carolyn checks in, and Marshawn basically tells Carolyn to go check out the display stuff, because they are too busy talking out the presentation for her mess. Brian explains a little about the exhibit itself, the whole good v. evil concept, and Carolyn interviews that their "display is...average. No lights, no music. If Excel wins, a lot of it is going to have to do with the presentation." Dear The Apprentice: WE GET IT.
Marshawn (with Rebecca's intense, yet disinterested, assent) want to have the execs experience it "as a customer," and she's right, and they're going to, but only on the way to complaining that product availability is the worst thing about their stupid display. The conversation is pretty funny, though, because Rebecca is kind of spacy and remote, and her answer is, "You're right." Marshawn wonders aloud what the best ways of getting that part across might be, and Rebecca says, "Um…" out loud. Watch her employ this strategy of acting weird and ditzy to great effect later in this very episode. Cut to Marshawn looking worried but doing absolutely jack shit about another obvious misstep. Marshawn interviews that she wasn't "100% sold" on the display, and started getting scared that she'd get scapegoated for her presentation, even though she's admittedly perfect. Cut to Marshawn looking worried but doing absolutely jack shit about this obvious misstep.
Marshawn, to Brian: "I honestly think that you should do it...why are you looking at me like that?" He's like, "I want you to do it." She knows that, "Brian," but she's not "passionate about this." He says she's more eloquent than he is, which: true enough, and Rebecca makes her usual weird faces at them while her brain works feverishly. She interviews to us that she totally doesn't get what's going on in Marshawn's head right now, but that this is not the kind of thing you start talking about at crunch time. Word. Not to mention: Brian! Stand up! Here's a phrase you should memorize: "Fuck that, dude. You're not dropping out thirty minutes before go time. I'll cobra your ass right now myself. Pull it together." Instead, Rebecca offers to do the presentation. I love her. She's so deeply insane, and yet I agree with her all the time. If I were more introspective and self-obsessed -- if that were possible -- I'd be worried.
You hear the main beginning music with the EPISODE WHATEVER crawl, and the words "Capital Edge" slide up the screen. Lordy. Then there are boots. Then there are legs. Then there's a person dressed in a Jedi outfit. This person is Adam. He's even got the stupid Padawan braid happening. Thing is, he looks terrific. It's like seeing Chris in a football uniform, or Rebecca in ROTC gear, or Trump in a clown suit: a perfect book with a perfect cover. Like how the French serve fish in a fish-shaped dish and artichoke in an artichoke-shaped dish or whatever. It somehow blips reality inside out and actually lends him some kind of dignity. I'd actually give this the time of day. Felisha also looks amazing as Amidala, with the red lip-stripe and white makeup. Her skin looks really, really good. Who knew dressing up like idiots and even more intensely doing nothing whatsoever would make them so attractive?
Carolyn and Bill welcome Jim and Gary, and Clay shakes everybody's hand and is very damn charming and expressive. He's wearing an all-black outfit and looks impressive and commanding. Alla realizes something is wrong when he immediately gets all, "Allow me to present this wonderful thing to you that I did all myself," and then there's a look of horror as he chops all three of their Clay-hating asses out of the entire equation. He speaks very, very well about the details of the display and the whole concept. Every time Alla tries to speak, he cuts her off with a dismissive hand and something on the spectrum of, "That's right, cutie, and you guys know what else?" It's very good old boy/eyes on me and very damn effective. Especially in that it makes Alla look like a total tool trying to take credit every time she speaks. Felishidala continues to look rad, and interviews total outrage about Alla's ownership of the concept, design, layout -- "She really did!" Cut to Alla, looking totally fucked over.
If the situation were reversed, I'd be cheering right now, so I'm in a tight spot. I will admit again that Clay is doing really, really well, not just with the presentation but also with freezing out Alla at every opportunity, continuing seamlessly with The Clay Show. He points out the "catchphrases" all over the display (The Answers You've Been Waiting For, Write Your Own Story, Be The Jedi) as though in the real world Marketing would ever let you run with that stuff. Alla redirects them from "catchphrases" to a direct response to the execs' request to connect the two products with that central "Live The Movie" idea. Clay, unctuous: "All right, well, that's part of it…" and then keeps talking. It's pretty amazing to watch.
Clay interviews sardonically that "Alla wanted to present part of it, but I kept that under wraps -- I didn't want this to be 'Alla saves the day.'" Even though that's...what happened, and there's video everywhere to prove it. Alla tries again: "One more point, Clay, if you don't mind?" And he goes -- chipper as fuck -- "No! Go right ahead!" She points out to them about how the display defines the space without closing it off, so that they are inviting customers into the environment from every direction. And she's right to highlight that: none of them knows this is going to be a main Excel issue. Clay's all, "So...yeah, we wanted to do that. Now, as far as…"
Alla interviews, fuming, "I know this thing inside and out! I built it! I conceptualized it! I brought it to life! He just cut me out!" Like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. I feel for her, I really do, because it's so below-the-board, what he's doing, but again, you and I both know that if Alla or Rebecca pulled this shit, I'd be dancing on a table like Coyote Ugly. She's just so clearly disappointed, and not for some bullshit emotional wussy reason like not getting to be Best Boy and show off and kiss the asses of Bill and Carolyn and the execs, but just because she was really invested in this, passionate about creating this thing, and it's been taken away from her. Which would be the other main difference, if the opposite thing were happening. Meanwhile, Felisha and Adam stand worthlessly on the sidelines some more.
Over to Excel, where Rebecca is talking crazy about the "overarching umbrella challenge" to make this "something of an experience," crazy eyes piercing souls left and right, and it's so wonderful. "The people want to bring Star Wars home with them -- not just the movie, not just the video game, but to bring that experience home with them." This last phrase is said literally with her dukes up, like she's about to punch one of the dudes in the face. They can't look away from her, nobody can, because it's entirely possible she'll spontaneously combust at any given moment, and who wants to miss that? Seriously, I'm watching it on mute while I'm typing this and it just got to that part, and I swear I would buy whatever she's selling, no matter what it was.
She crutches them over to the other side of the display, and interviews intensely about how she had "Marshawn's notes in my hand and a half hour to prepare," and then the trouble starts. Jim asks, "Did you think at all about having Darth Vader play a more predominant role, graphically?" Rebecca fucks up very eloquently here: "Darth Vader is an ominous figure, and if we were to put him in the dead center, we would overpower so much of the other elements," blah blah, it doesn't matter, she's talking out her ass and she knows it, but what do you do? Bill looks scared some more. An exec asks about, and demonstrates, how one customer standing in front of the display eliminates the entire visual of the merchandise on offer, because it's all crowded together in one small area on the display. There is silence, and Brian jumps in finally with a "Now that you bring that up, we could put the merchandise directly right in front of you while you're watching the movie," which...I like Brian, but seriously? "You're right, I should have locked the barn. Thanks for that input. Do you have any other suggestions, just in case time travel is invented in the several hours?" There are handshakes and Rebecca's wondrous, hard, freakout smile, and we cut to Marshawn looking worried, but having done absolutely jack shit about these obvious missteps.
Rebecca interviews that the presentation wasn't her (for some reason I loved this) "best work," but after all, "Marshawn pulled out at the last minute, and left us all sort of trying to pick up the pieces, and I don't like people who drop the ball at the last minute." It's a given that Rebecca feels things more strongly than you and I, right, so what do you think it's like for her right now, regarding Marshawn? We get a split-second look at Rebecca which I think answers the question, and it's totally scary. Brief cut to Marshawn looking sad, like she's just fucked up, which she has. You guys! Is Marshawn going home? That sucks! I hope she doesn't go home. I want Felisha or Adam to go home, because all they did was dress like assclowns, and if that makes you a star, then I was in the company of some deeply motherfucking talented corporate powerhouses the night I saw this movie.
Everybody has to wait outside the Boardroom with Robin while Trump meets with the execs, and you can hear their muffled voices out in the foyer, and it's totally stressful. This is the first time they've done that, at least this season, and it's brilliant. LucasJim says the teams "did well, overall," but he and Gary agree that there's a "clear winner." Outside, everybody looks freaked out, particularly Brian, except for Clay, who's smirking self-righteously like always. Trump tells Jim and Gary how very much in love with both Best Buy and LucasArts he is, and then he marries them because he hasn't gotten married in hours, and they leave and don't talk to the candidates at all, and it's super-creepy. Adam looks really, really good in the maroon pinstriped shirt, and all of Excel is still wearing their bright blue Best Buy polos as they file in. Clay pulls out Felisha's chair, and Marshawn and Brian help Rebecca with hers, and then Trump starts screaming his ass off. He keeps saying the word "film" like "fillum," and it's obnoxious.
PM Clay is proud of Cap Edge's presentation, and PM Brian feels Excel's display was "very impressive." Carolyn reports on the Capital Edge results, which the executives said "nailed the tagline" -- the "watch it, play it, own them both" one -- and Bill says that the merchandising was impressive, because you could access it easily, and that "at the end of the day," it's about selling product. Brian cries one salty tear. Trump says that both execs mentioned "lots of problems with Excel," but that mostly the problem was that they left out Darth Vader, who was the point, and that the execs "totally preferred Capital Edge."
Trump calls for a vote on Clay's exemption, and the blood, she flows freely. Adam votes against, Felisha blurts, "Absolutely not," and Alla manages to both vote against and mention that her reason is that 90% of the task was on her shoulders, and that she led the way and should have been PM. Nicely done, Alla. I mean, this is a railroad for sure, but he led them skipping by the hands to Hateville, so it's not out of bounds, in my opinion. Trump loves this, and tells Clay that he "won this task," but really has to "learn to win the job." Then he basically promises to fire Clay week, seems like, and then tells them the best person to tell you how to win is a winner, and sends them on a field trip with Bill Rancic. I cannot read Bill's expression whatsoever -- is he smiling? What's he doing? I don't know. When we come back, it'll be Brian, Marshawn, and Rebecca on the block. They all look sad, especially Brian, who almost always cries.
The reward is insanely boring: they go to Trump Tower White Plains, and Felisha is wearing a hardhat and getting insane like a tiny dog yipping about "I love everything about real estate! I love being up here! It's inspiring! It makes me wanna go out and buy more buildings! And develop more real estate! This is a dream!" That's verbatim, and it's great. I really think I would adore Felisha in real life. She's so nuts. She's weirder than Rebecca, underneath it all, I swear to you. The coolest thing Bill says is, when they reach the top floor and walk out onto it, he goes, "This is the top floor." That had me rolling on the carpet for like five minutes. "This is the top floor." Like, there's no roof, okay, and the sun is shining brightly down on their hardhats through the lack of ceiling, and Bill goes, "This is the top floor." I am utterly charmed.
And you know who else is? Adam. "I was excited to spend the day with Bill." Understatement. He's so nervous and excited, his eyes won't focus. It's freaky. Bill finally says -- like he's fucking Daniel Radcliffe with a six-year-old with pee running down her leg, which essentially he is right now -- "You can ask me questions…" Adam's head vibrates around on his neck like he's having a tiny seizure, and he can't speak. I start getting really nervous. In his interview, he's a bit more composed, but no less wide-eyed. And I don't mean wide-eyed in the conventional, naïve, innocent way. I mean wide-eyed like his eyes are a Japanese cartoon the rest of him wasn't invited to. He interviews: "[Bill] works with Trump closely every day!" and then we cut back to Adam staring at Bill, unblinking, his giant teeth sparkling in the bright sunshine. It's maybe the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life, and it makes me so much more okay with Adam than anything else that I can almost forget the singing.
Bill gives them the amazing update that they need to have the following things: "passion," "creativity," and an ability to "think outside the box" and be "innovative." Ironic, is it not, this spurring people to heights of creativity by saying every cliché he can think of? Thanks, Bill. Now everybody's staring at him adoringly. This is weird. Alla murmurs "yeah" softly, to herself. Clay is the most awesome of them all, as he zones out and stares at the side of Bill's face, bored out of his mind, doing those fake oh yeah totally, absolutely, completely yes nods every few seconds. Cut to Adam staring at Bill like he's doing fucking magic tricks, and then Adam saying "good words of wisdom" in this hypnotized Kool-Aid voice. It's gone past sad to adorable to...just kind of weird at this point.
Clay goes from my favorite moment of Clay ever to my least favorite moment of Clay ever: "The thing I learned most from Bill today was...in the end it's all about you, you have to really stand up. It doesn't pay me to give the people on my team respect anymore."
What We Heard Bill Say: A Stitch In Time Saves Nine
What Clay Heard Bill Say: You're All Alone In This World, Clay. Everyone Is Against You!
What We Heard Bill Say: You Catch More Flies With Honey
What Clay Heard Bill Say: Everyone Else Is Just Robots. This Life Is Only A Test. Defeat The Robots And Live Forever!
What We Heard Bill Say: Rate Equals Distance Times Time
What We Heard Bill Say: A Fool And His Money Are Soon Parted
What Clay Heard Bill Say: Trump Hates Everybody But You! Abuse Them And Win His Approval!
What We Heard Bill Say: The Square Of The Hypotenuse Is Equal To The Sum Of The Squares Of The Other Two Sides
What Clay Heard Bill Say: Kill Them, Clay. Kill Them All As They Sleep!
Bill continues to explain a few things about generic situations that never actually happen, and even Alla's getting tired of this, in her weird fake fur.
What Adam Heard Bill Say: I'm Your Real Dad, Son! Come Live With Me, In My Castle, Where There's A Puppy Waiting For You, And Your Selection Of Accounting Software!
Aww. Meanwhile, Brian and Randal are in the kitchen making cookies, and again your sense of perspective goes totally whack. They worry about the Boardroom. Well, Brian does; Randal just worries about Brian. Brian interviews that Randal "could be a big contributor to our loss, because it was his original design," but fusses that "Randal's exempt, so that's not an option." He somehow does this without looking completely ungrateful for Randal's support. Marshawn says she's packed, and Brian replies that he's going to fight for his life, but he's also packed. He and Randal have a meeting in the freezer compartment of the refrigerator where he asks if it's "worth the good fight," and Randal fully scoffs, awesomely, all, "Always! Are you kidding me?"
Randal interviews sweetly about his "concern for Brian in particular, as we go to the Boardroom." In Randal's opinion, Capital Edge won because their ideas were more creative, and because they -- get this -- "definitely hit the mark as far as the expectations of the executives." Like Cap Edge just had this crazy lucky advantage of knowing what the client wanted. I mean, I know he means it's all Brian's fault, but he says it in such a nice way. He admits, though, that the PM bears the "ultimate responsibility" for meeting those expectations. Brian burns the cookies, and says in somewhat of a jocular tone, "I can't even make cookies properly." They laugh, but I die a little bit inside.
Brian interviews that as PM he has a lot of responsibility, but also should be able to rely on his team. He and Rebecca have a hush-hush convo about how Marshawn "just gave up," and Rebecca is so excellent here, because she pretends to have her whole mind focused on something else, only just kinda listening to him, never looking him in the eye. This is awesome because I love it when crazy Rebecca decides she's actually in a noir film, but also because I know for a fact that she's only going to keep up this "Oh, uh-huh?" thing going as long as he says what she wants him to say. "She didn't feel comfortable doing it," right, and then, "And you had like a half hour!" She looks sidelong at him and has a crazy sexy smile as she drawls -- still "not entirely" focused on the conversation -- "I don't know. I don't wanna…" So good. She's so good. I cannot freaking wait until she and Alla go head-to-head for real. Just thinking about it gives me the shivers. Remember when 24 was good?
Brian looks fantastic as they head into the boardroom, voicing over that "Marshawn should be fired." Bill and Carolyn look totally dour, like Crucible dour, and Rebecca and Marshawn have matching looks full of intensity and maybe a little regret. Brian has taken his glasses off -- put them back on! Trump asks exactly what the concept was, and Brian explains Randal's whole "good v. evil" deal one more time, then says it was Randal's initial concept, and they all built on it from there. Randal jumps in there to clarify that there are two separate issues at work here, the concept, and then the actual building of the display. Instead of letting him go more in-depth with exactly why that's a factor -- because Randal presumably has something interesting to say here, since he has no reason to cover his ass -- Trump jumps to the whole "missing the client meeting" concept, and Marshawn gives the best "oh, fuck" eye-roll of the episode.
Randal sighs like it's physically painful, then admits that "it was Brian's determination that we leave at 10 for a 10:15 meeting." Trump screams, "Where do you go in New York in fifteen minutes? You know where you go? Half a block!" Brian laughs. Trump's like, "Starting at the suite? And going where?" Brian says, "Chelsea," and this sets off Trump again, because you can't do midtown to Chelsea in 15 minutes and what the hell part of New York is Brian actually from? Because clearly, Trump is implying, it's "Delaware." Brian admits that he's from Murray Hill, and Trump screams some more about the idiocy of this, and Brian has no answer to any of this, because even he is confused by that decision at this point.
Brian says they tried to make up for it with research, because they weren't all too familiar with the series, and Trump's like, "Okay, but it escaped your notice that the main point of the whole thing is fucking Darth Vader? When you sat right here in front of me, virgins and gay dudes and a Martian and no Jenthura, and watched the goddamn trailer with me?" Brian, because he never met a self-effacing, suicidal remark that he didn't embrace, is like, "Well really though, we lost because the execs never gave us the gist of the…" and Carolyn's on it like a whole WASP-y school of helmet-haired piranha: "You would've gotten the gist had you gone to the meeting. You missed this meeting: you missed all this information."
Trump tells Brian he's disappointed, because for weeks he's not stepped up. He asks "Martian" to concur, and she says something out of the blue about how "Brian's heart is not in this anymore" and she doesn't think he wants to stay in. I wonder where that's coming from; that's an interesting comment. Especially because that's what I was going to say about Marshawn, until she beat me to it. Things get even more tense when Trump asks, "You wanna go home to Murray Hill?" And yeah, you know what's coming. "You know what, it's only 30 blocks up the road." I'm sorry, but that's a shitty, shitty thing to say -- it's like on America's Top Model when Tyra told my Kyle she was going back to Dairy Queen. Way too harsh for the moment. Janice could pull that shit off, but Trump and Tyra just seem like total dicks when they try it. To his credit, I think Brian gives Trump that look ("What? You can't possibly have just said that shit to me.") you give a guy right before you punch him in the face. Either that, or another in a series of shocked-almost-in-tears faces he makes, I'm not sure. I like Option A. Either way, though: adrenaline.
Carolyn asks whether Rebecca was actually supposed to be presenting, and Brian's relieved, to the degree that he actually says, "Good question." Trump blurts, "Carolyn -- let me just -- Carolyn, to me, that's the main question." She somehow manages to give him a complete "clearly, dildo" face without seeming harsh about it. That's a skill right there. There's like a we're in this together, sir floater on it that makes it okay. Trump screams that he heard Rebecca did an "unbelievable job of presentation, considering she had like one minute to prepare," and Rebecca gets so intense she might cry. Trump asks "Martian" why she didn't present, and things go kind of nuts.
It's ugly, but here are the basics, according to Marshawn: as a communication expert, she was able to ascertain that for this particular task, Brian's "style" was perfectly suited to the task. (Even though Brian, by his own admission, is bad at that.) She threw in the towel two hours before the presentation. (Even though time, the fourth dimension, puts it closer to thirty minutes.) Rebecca requested the responsibility for presenting at the last minute. (Even though everyone there knows she did it out of frustration, and because it was the best possible move to keep her in the game.) Brian is "just saying that" when he says that he assigned Marshawn ownership of the presentation and she dropped the ball. (Even though he's not just saying that, and everyone in the room knows it.) My Lord, this is bad, y'all.
Marshawn, repeat after me: "I lost faith in the task as I saw its crappitude increasing, and didn't want the success to rest on my capable shoulders." This is more painful than watching Clay not explain his bullshit last week, because at least he did that out of ignorance -- she's just being prevented, and letting them freak her out into strange lies.
Carolyn tries again, and we get Episode II of the basics, according to Marshawn: as a believer in her teammates' skills, she wanted Rebecca to have the "opportunity" to show off the presentation skills she's constantly talking about. (Even though it was uncontestedly Rebecca's idea.) Marshawn's presentation skills are vastly better than Rebecca's, but it was more important for Rebecca to "prove herself." (Even though that's the most condescending, crazy thing Marshawn's said yet.) Bill shakes his head and says, "No," audibly, and Carolyn and Trump pursue that line of questioning. Marshawn did not "ask" Rebecca to do the presentation so much as Rebecca volunteered. (Even though that contradicts the words that came out of Marshawn's mouth mere moments ago.)
Carolyn wonders why -- once a teammate has offered to cover for your sudden lack of stones -- a person wouldn't be shamed into stepping up. This is a question that has no answer, so Trump tags in to give Rebecca the floor, which she takes with her usual freaky earth-shaking vibe. "I was fearful that we would take up too much time discussing whether or not she wanted to present. I wanted to get the job done, and do it to the absolute top of our ability, and I wanted to keep the focus on our project, and away from whatever people were feeling outside of that." Bill takes this pass and gets about ten yards: "Wouldn't it be logical at this point in the process to really accentuate your strengths? Step up the game and really showcase what you have? Because the window of opportunity is closing really quickly." She agrees whole-heartedly with each sentence as it comes, and then replies, "You're right, Bill. And I was prepared, and ready to…" Trump's like, "Whatever, but how could you do that to your team?"
Marshawn interrupts him a whole lot all of a sudden, trying to get back to how she's grooming Rebecca to be the Apprentice or whatever the hell, and Trump just falls back to repeating over and over, "Was it your idea not to present? Was it your idea not to present?" And finally -- her transformation into Darth Markus complete -- she says, "The answer to your question is yes." Actually, I think the answer is closer to "Killer Fatigue," because I'm not ready to believe that Marshawn has been so FUTR this whole time with nothing to back it up. The one or two things she says each episode are completely on track -- she just says them to us, rather than the team. Maybe she's just tired.
Bill feels that Marshawn abandoned her team, but she feels differently: "I didn't abandon my team! I was more than happy to do it!" Carolyn, in that put-upon rock-bottom-line-it-for-me way she has: "Marshawn, we've been talking about this I don't know how long, and I still don't know why…" Marshawn -- who, by the way, is cool as a cucumber this entire time, except for the interrupting, which makes it all the eerier -- replies, "For a very basic reason, Carolyn." Carolyn shakes her pretty hair. "Please tell me that reason. I'm trying to figure it out." Marshawn, you see, believed that Brian should be the one to present, again, all of a sudden. Trump laughs this off, again, and dares her to say that maybe Rebecca, but certainly not Brian, would do a better job than Marshawn, because that he could believe. Fuckin' ouch, dude. Marshawn is like, "She wouldn't." And because this is less like a meeting and more like bear-baiting all of a sudden, Brian says into the quiet, "She did a phenomenal job." Like Rebecca needs the help right now, kid. Marshawn smiles. "She did a nice job. It was fine." Hoo-hoo-HOO.
Bill still doesn't get it, because why would you take a risk on such a huge task. Marshawn scoffs that it was "a task about a display," and instead of explaining to her that all males 14-25 spend money or any amount of thought whatsoever on is violent video games, Trump just hollers something like, "This was gold on a platter delivered to your door! It's Star Wars for crying out loud! What's better than that?" He hates the fact -- "say what you want" -- that she shunned her responsibility. As for Brian, Trump thinks he's a terrible leader, his inexcusable tardiness cost them the task, and that he was late for idiotic reasons: "You live in Manhattan! And you didn't...meet with the executives! And you didn't really know what they wanted! Brian, you're fired."
(Beat.)
"And you also. Marshawn, you're fired. I hate how you let your team down."
Randal and Rebecca are flobbersnacked. Randal looks like he just bent down to pet a puppy only to have a snake come slithering out of its eyeball humming "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida," and then slapped him across the face -- that's how wide and terrified his eyes get. "Out!" screams Trump, and everybody leaves looking either pissed as hell or scared out of their wits.
Trump ruminates that Brian "never stepped up," and at least is cool enough to say that it's a huge bummer because Marshawn has such great potential. I wish I could tell him my Killer Fatigue theory -- he'd get it, because Marshawn explained it to him about Brian. Carolyn is intensely vague: "Well...I definitely...agree that Brian should have been fired." Interesting. She went after Marshawn pretty hard, but it seemed like maybe when your cat finds something in the yard and wants to see what its insides look like. I can see her disagreeing with this firing; until tonight, I felt the same.
Bill, to provide balance to the Force, agrees with Marshawn's firing -- "she abandoned her teammates" -- and doesn't mention Brian at all. I wish I'd watched the first season more closely so I could make all kind of pop-psychology judgments and parallels, but I'll have to settle for saying I thought he was incisive and smart in this week's Boardrooms, and I'm impressed with him anew. Trump gets the last word, and as usual, it's indefinably weird: "We had no choice. Only the best can work here." Every week I hope he'll give us some of that "Life continues" bullshit, but this will do. Outside, Marshawn and Brian get into the cab. Goodbye, The Two Best-Looking Candidates (Besides Josh). Inside, Rebecca hop-hops like Little Bunny Foo-Foo back to the suite.
Crazy Taxi! So Marshawn is speaking directly into the camera and Brian is staring out of the window like he's been kidnapped and drugged and has no idea where he is or what is happening, but at least knows it's bad. And this is what Marshawn says: "Brian decided to rely on one person, he didn't utilize resources the best that he could, and while I respect him as a person, I think there were some strong decisions that were made that were not the right decisions." The lovely coloring that Brian has, you can clearly see he's getting that redness along the top of his cheekbones that means he's so mad he could cry. "I think at the end of the day, Brian was in the Boardroom, he was on the hot seat, and I was the easiest person to point fingers at -- but we lost because of creativity, failing to use the full creative resources that we had."
There's some reaction here, but I can't tell if Brian's going to call bullshit on this true statement, or agree with it. He could go either way. He doesn't actually look at the camera, just nearly comes to life, then goes back to staring out the window. It's insane. As LadyKenobi said in the forums, the optimal thing to happen at this moment would be if Brian had turned and shouted, "What, now you're ready to give a whole speech?"
Special Essay: Choose two from #1 - #3, or answer #4.
1. Tell me why this is okay, again. Take as long as you like. Defend NBC, the Trumpanies, Donald Trump himself. Explain to me how the fuck the pool of successful black businesswoman in this universe is so fucking shallow that every season this happens. And more importantly, tell me how far a black woman would have to get in this competition for me not to feel cheated. Who the fuck do you think benefits from propagation of the concept that African-Americans are either lazy and crafty or crazy and scary? Who do you think benefits from propagation of the concept that women are either lazy and crafty or crazy and scary? Are they the same people? So who benefits most from specifically singling out black women for humiliation? Don't bother submitting the actual writing, as I won't be reading them -- too busy hanging out with my actual successful black friends who have no interest in looking like a jackass on TV.
2. Describe a person in your life of any gender and sexual orientation, as long as it's a gay male. Make sure to edit your comments to make your subject appear as pissy, hissy, fussy, needy, emasculated, infantilized, underhanded, self-obsessed, effeminate, self-marginalizing, immature, sex-obsessed, petty, vindictive, stereotypical and whiny as possible. (Hint: It helps if you start with someone who generally exhibits these traits and edit from there. Extra points if they're mean to Brian about his height, because that super-bad bugs me.) Who the fuck do you think benefits from denigrating gay men as unstable and only approximating "real" masculinity? Who the fuck do you think requires such constant approval and support of their own masculinity that they can't help but strike out at anything that threatens it? (See #1 for some extra material.) Why do you think that is?
3. First, outline the history and support of the well-known "female alliances don't ever work" theory of reality TV. Then, discuss the marketing/storytelling reasoning behind the constant editing and manipulation of entertainment to explain how this ongoing impression titillates male viewers while underscoring female viewers' own misogynist tendencies. Where the fuck does this start? Why is the "women are bitches to each other when nobody's around" concept so fucking glamorized? Who is the nobody in that last sentence whose quantum gaze is essential to the entire scenario? Why is the portrayal of men so easily relegated to "Boy's Club" with a few (gay or otherwise "maladjusted") scapegoats, while the portrayal of women in popular culture is that they stand, bitchily, alone? What do you think they're really "fighting" over? Who the hell do you think benefits from that concept?
4. Tell me why America would prefer to watch this crap than something where people of quality, minority or majority, honestly compete against each other for something worthwhile. I really, really need to know. Because my intimation is that your answers to #1 - #3, inclusive, mean that this is a question that has no answer, because it's not "America" that wants it, it's the people in charge of the information.
(This quiz not brought to you by a vast left-wing conspiracy -- I'm way more of a Republican than you are -- but more by a sense of horror. I'm Jacob Clifton, and I approve this message.)
Anyhow. It's not that she's wrong about any of it, but you have got to be some kind of balls-out...I don't even know what it would take, what kind of person you'd be, to be able to deliver this very eloquent, very impassioned, very precise presentation about how very incompetent, sucky and stupid the person sitting two inches to your left actually is. And whatever kind of person that is, it's not somebody with a hell of a lot of class, and that bugs me extremely. At least you're not fucking Omarosa, though, so that's nice.
Jacob sad, Clay. Jacob drink Stoli. And week? Effing week? The teams write and record an original song for XM Radio. DAMN IT. Not only as my personal Kryptonite -- which, at this point it's kind of funny that they keep doing this to me -- but also because what does this have to do with real estate? I assume we'll see the corporate management part of it, beyond the total takeover of this show by product placement, but in the meantime I'm just going to suck my thumb and wait to win that sweepstakes.
So what have we learned about Loyalty? Well, no matter how much of a dick your old boss is, talking about it can bite you in the ass. Ask me sometime about my best friend's forthcoming chick lit novel, The Devil Wears Ill-Fitting Khakis, and the climax of that particular road trip through hell. We've learned that it's not "disloyalty" if you don't actually believe in the rights and sovereignty of the people around you because they are robots -- just how you get to the level. Loyalty only extends so far as the Council's ability to train you in the ways of saving your pregnant wife's life -- if they refuse, kill their children. Loyalty means that if your team gives you one specific duty and then marginalizes you for every other part of the task, you're an asshole if you don't go along quietly. Loyalty takes a backseat to Sex At Work, even if the guy is a hot graphic-designer type with square glasses and a tight geek sweater, with the stripes and everything. Somehow, although I'm at a loss as to how, Brian learned that Loyalty means being on time, I guess. Rebecca learned that Loyalty is sometimes good, unless you are being loyal to a crazy milkshake-phobe with delusions of adequacy, which we already learned is bad. In the end, I think we can all agree that Loyalty is very important in business, as long as you remember that Loyalty has no place in business. And that's one to grow on.