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Norman's hiding Bradley after her phenomenal trip to Gil's house, which has sparked off a drug war across White Pine Bay. The man Norman thinks might have killed Miss Watson, it turns out, is her father: Nick Watson, the head of the opposing cartel. Romero, who previously pretended not to recognize him, has a pretty solid conversation with him about the tense peace of WPB to remind us all how it works there, which is that everything is horrible but that's the best they can do.
Convinced that her son is a murderer of English teachers, among others, Norma heads to the library for some books about the subject of crazy and ends up deciding that their new extracurricular activity will be community theatre. Specifically South Pacific. The director there is Rebecca Creskoff, by far the most mesmerizing part of Hung, so you know it's going to be good. Hear she's sticking around for a while, which couldn't make me happier.
What you probably were not expecting was the not one but two musical numbers: First an awkwardly lovely "Mister Sandman" duet at the Bates home, with a deteriorating Bradley listening from the basement and Norma tearing up the piano... Or a blistering "Maybe This Time" from Cabaret, which Norma sings the shit out of, as though she knows as well as we do that it's her theme song. The standing ovation after -- and Norman's impressed grin -- do for her what few things (besides fiscal solvency and/or a sense of fucking personal agency, in our world of whores and axe murderers) can. Heart-swelling, heartbreaking stuff.
But not as heartbreaking as the scene that precedes the performance, in which Norman's so fussy about getting Bradley out of town that he nearly wrecks this latest enthusiasm of his mother's... So she gets hysterical, plays the old "I think you killed your English teacher" card moms are always playing, and of course gets her way. Norman sends Dylan to help Bradley escape town, and it's bizarre how his disappointment -- this macabre wish to be the one to help his dream girl on the lam, like a murder ballad Seth Cohen -- comes across so viscerally. Obviously we should not be encouraging this sort of Nice Guy romanticism in him, and yet.
Dylan does his Dylan thing, making sure Bradley is aware of Norman's courtly honor before asking her to write a suicide note that will hopefully stop the drug war before it becomes a thing and then bringing back a sweet note for Norman as well. I was unable to properly dig into this scene because I don't really want to live in a world without Bradley Martin... But we do also meet a scintillating new girl, a quirky-dark grocery-store register kind of girl, who might accelerate Norman's growth in ways Bradley was too kind to do. So there's that.
Romero arrests a darling sleazebag (Brendan Fletcher!) for Miss Watson's murder, with some pretty convincing evidence and a monstrous rap sheet, but you know how these things go. I doubt he'll be the main suspect for long. Ditto the fabulously disgusting replacement they've sent in for Gil, Zane, about whom the less said the better. But of all the new faces in town and all the ways they creep you out, the show saves the best/worst for last, as Norma's brother Caleb finally comes calling.
week: Dylan tries to figure out what the deal is with Caleb, which seems like would be pretty much mashing all of Norma's buttons at once. The drug war escalates and bodies start piling up. And it seems like Grocery Girl's boyfriend maybe gets a little bi with Norman? Hope that doesn't send him into some weird psychosexual frenzy! Wouldn't that be so weird if some random normal quasi-sexual contact caused Norman Bates to flip the hell out? But then on the other hand it's like, who didn't see that one coming? Either way, I need to process all of this.
Because I dunno, you know how much I loved Zack Shelby, and that motherfucker kept Chinese sex slaves in his basement. So it's entirely possible that Caleb will have a valid viewpoint, or at least one sympathetic scene, before Norman inevitably kills the shit out of him. But it was a little weird to see Kenny Johnson's name in the credits and feel cornered, instead of happy like I normally would be. Mostly I'm just worried and sad that my girl Bradley's gone. But if she is, at least she went out like a fucking boss.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!PREVIOUSLY
Maybe Miss Watson was going to molest him or maybe she just was being nice, but either way her ass is dead now and Norman Bates is on the case. Having solved her own little murder mystery -- or so she thinks -- the incandescent Bradley Martin has nowhere to run but Norman Bates's basement, so now he has two problems.*
*(Norman Bates has at least one million problems.)
AM
The taxidermy animals down in the basement have been posed to look like they're having a party! Or else they were having a party last night and forgot to get their shit together before the humans woke up.
Bradley's asleep on a hasty pallet near the boiler, looking like an angel, when Norman finally shakes her awake. She moves fast, talks fast, but her eyes take a second to focus; her mouth hangs open, she is ragged.
Bradley: "Yeah so listen I need you to do the following eighty things..."
Norman: "No way. You need to tell me what's going on. Every time I keep a ratchet tore-up girl as a pet my mom yells at me. Also, we are in the middle of a love story and you don't know it yet, so I need the deets."
Bradley: "I am not interested in your mess. I am interested in a bus ticket to anywhere, some money, some food, some..."
Norman: "I don't think you realize how awkward this is for me! You have to explain the stakes so that I won't trip on the weirdness of keeping a girl under my mom's roof."
Bradley: "Okay you know what? Fine. I killed a man. I think he killed my dad, probably he did, but either way it was a squid-blessed mess with brains everywhere."
Norman: "Oh my God we have so much in common! This is crazy."
OB/GYN
Staring down at Norma staring up at us, on a doctor's table. A clicking sound, which majorly tripped me out. I was like, "Wait, is that a speculum down there? Speculums also make a clicking sound? They literally do everything you don't want to happen." I don't know why, but the clicking noise just sent me over the edge.
Doc: "What kind of birth control are you using?"
Norma: "Ever since my sons murdered my sex slave-owning boyfriend? Mostly my personality."
Doc: "Do you have any unrelated questions to ask me while I do this?"
Norma: "Tell me about blackouts. Like, into trances, and with lost time."
Doc: "Oh, I didn't realize you were that kind of crazy."
Norma: "It's my sister. We've done CAT scans and everything, no physical..."
Doc: "Oh, your 'sister'?"
Norma: "Those scare quotes are actually appropriate, but not for the reasons you think."
Doc: "Okay if there's no physical evidence, why are you asking me? A doctor?"
Norma: "Just spit balling here, lady. What could cause blackouts, if there's nothing physically wrong with you?"
Doc: "Descartes would suggest if it's not one thing, it's your mother. Uh, I mean The Other. Uh, I mean the Mind. Can I refer you to a psychiatrist?"
Norma: "No. She doesn't live here, and anyway I was hoping it was some third thing."
Doc: "Some third thing that is not your mind or your body?"
Norma, resigned: "Yeah, or my fault.* So I guess a fourth thing."
TURNER
Remo figures out pretty fast that all the cops around Gil's awesome gorgeous perfect house are an explanation for why Gil's not answering his phone.
Remo: "So we just keep driving, obviously."
Dylan: "Why? We didn't do anything wrong and I want to know what's up!"
Remo: "What's up is, drug war and the cops are hard pressed to... Oh, great."
Romero: "-- Mornin' boys."
Dylan: "Oh nothing, we just wanted to see Gil."
Romero: "See that body on that gurney in a body bag? Say hello. Only you can't, because he doesn't even have a face on his head. Can you tell me anything about anything at all? I do actually have to investigate this murder, you know."
Dylan: "I can tell you only that he will be moderately missed. And that this is so crazy!"
Romero: "Come on, Massett. This is a drug war about to happen. Do me the respect of acknowledging where we live and that I am the only person who even kind of has a handle on anything."
Dylan: "Oh right, I forgot. You're not a regular cop, you're a cool cop."
Romero: "What I am is a cop that looks the other way when you motherfuckers set each other on fire, because it makes for less paperwork. Trust me, I'm on your side. If only because you are a citizen. Unless you killed this gross bastard, in which case I will sadly have to buy you a beer and then arrest you for murder."
LIBRARY
Homegirl is checking out a bunch of books with what I can only assume is her own library card: Dissociative amnesia, epilepsy, psychosis; titles like Coping* and Call Me Crazy. Exactly what the cops will notice when Norman finally melts down, exactly the list they will be looking for. But good God, what a solid swing for old Norma. Read up and diagnose him yourself, because no way can you go in for the talking cure again, not with the body count what it is.
Not with Miss Watson dead, like she is. It's only a whisper, she isn't even allowed to think it yet, but it's there. Read fast.
*(And start with that one, babe.)
Norma's eyes fall on a mother and son -- visually similar enough that it's intentional -- delighting in each others company. She praises his reading, and he falls into her side with pleasure, enraptured. And nearby, on the wall, there's a call for auditions for the local community theater's production of South Pacific. An idea begins to form behind those whirling eyes. An awful, wonderful idea.
GIL
The drug place, I never know what to call it. The Giant Boat Place. I love that big old boat. Where can it take you? Anyplace gross.
Remo: "Now, you haven't been in the business long enough to even understand the implications..."
Dylan: "Okay, Dad."
(Nobody: Knows what to do with that.)
Remo: "Shut up and listen. Romero was right, this is a declaration of war."
Dylan: "It was the other guys."
Remo: "Yeah. I mean, we've been stealing their business so clearly something bad was going to happen..."
Dylan: "We what?"
Remo: "But anyway, we're getting a new Gil today. His problem. Just bear in mind that fair Verona is fixin' to heat right up."
CEMETERY
The man that Norman spied on, the poor sad mustache man that killed everybody on Grey's Anatomy at that time of year where everybody dies on Grey's Anatomy, is Nick. Nick Ford, who is Miss Watson's father, and obviously Romero knew that when Norman showed him the photo of him. Which I guess was to protect Norman, since the other thing Norman was doing at that time was photographing the head of one of the main drug cartels in the region, just as a drug was heating up, which is why you should not take pictures of people without their consent. Especially in quaint PNW villages where drugs are the main thing*.
Nick: "I still can't believe my whore daughter got her throat slit."
Romero: "It's sad but did you kill her boyfriend? Just curious."
Nick: "And start a drug war? Why would I do that? Go find her murderer and get off my jock. It's been four months!"
Romero: "As much as I hate to be a part of this casual slut-shaming of this woman who was apparently deeply fucked up and the town bicycle and possibly a child molester, can we be real for a second?"
*(All of them.)
Nick: "If a guy fucked every guy in town, we'd think he was a hero!"
Romero: "Well, no. We'd be even worse about it. That's kind of what Norma Bates is always bitching about. When you're tone-deaf or naïve enough to think men and women are interchangeable, you end up with bullshit like Men's Rights and the PC police. Shit only slides downhill. We're the lucky 39% who never have to account for men's egos as part of daily life, for our survival and our actual image of ourselves as people."
Nick: "I think of the police department as almost a third drug family. Checks and balances. And until pot laws change in this country, that's going to involve a fair amount of dirtiness to keep balanced and checked."
Romero: "Such is the cost of our idyllic paradise, where everybody is a sex murderer and gets set on fire, when they're not raping each other all the time."
LUNCH
Norma: "Sister, you are awfully chill going to town on those carrots like that. Are you sure nothing is wrong? Like you are killing people for example?"
Norman: "I like nothing better than when you watch me masticate, Mother."
Norma: "Okay so you wanna do a musical? WPB has a community theater, a rich cultural sort of uh... They're doing South Pacific this summer, and..."
Norman: "Here we go. I always knew this day would come. I am not like that!"
Norma: "In my version of reality, which always wins, you are absolutely into musicals. We sing together all the time, we are like a two-person The Partridge Family."
Norman: "Nobody knows who those people are, Mother! Nobody knows what you're talking about, Mother!"
Well, he's in a mood. So Norma (never let it be said Norma Bates is afraid of doubling the fuck down) responds by singing and dancing to "I'm A Little Teapot," including a verse where she just clucks and stomps her feet. It is astonishing. You forget how she is and then she so kindly reminds you how she is. I could watch this all day.
Norman: "Compose yourself!"
Norma: "I really, really need this. I am prepared to take this all the way."
Norman: "You're acting like I still need a new hobby. I'll have you know I haven't been down to the basement for days! Except for a secret reason."
Bradley's mom calls then, to ask where her daughter is because she was only home for one night -- jamming pistols in her mouth, if you'll recall, even then -- and suddenly has disappeared. Is she off another, higher or more deadly, bridge? Did she shoot a drug lord? Is she in their basement? No, no and no. He rings off and Dylan walks in, listening a bit.
Norma: "Who was that? And is it going to be a long conversation because I would really like to revisit the..."
Norman: "Bradley disappeared again?"
Dylan: "I could almost figure this out right now, but I'm too hungry to pay attention."
Everybody chills, and somehow Norma has won the fight about the musical, and is therefore so manic and twirly all you can really focus on is Norman. He is going to town on his lunch in a way he seldom does, staring into space and worrying himself into an ulcer like he always, always does.
Dylan's always so sensitive to that; I like to think that this -- rather than the fact that Dylan has been conspiring with Bradley since last season to this exact end -- is what finally tips him off to what's going on, if not where.
UPSTAIRS
In a comically dark, dramatically lit room, Norman packs a bug-out bag for her and then shoves it, all gangly, under the bed at Dylan's knock. The light and the difference in position makes Dylan tower over him, like an authority, like a man, which is maybe why Norman clams up so hard. But I know that's not it:
This is a love story about Norman and Bradley -- he's the Ali McGraw to her Steve McQueen* -- and that is the number one story Dylan can never be a part of.
Dylan: "You must be really worried about her. I'm only the appropriate amount."
Norman: "What is especially worrisome to me is how I have no idea where she is located."
Dylan: "That's weird that you underlined that like that, buddy. Anything to say?"
Norman: "Nothing but reiterations at this point."
Dylan: "Okay because it's fucking scary out there. Her dad was part of my world, not yours. She's walking into that wood chipper with her eyes open. So if you need me..."
Norman: "I'm going to look you in the eye and lie to you, is how important this is to me that I do it."
Dylan: "Bummer but okay. Man, I love you."
*("Nobody knows who those people are, Jacob! Nobody knows what you're talking about, Jacob!")
Norman: "Dylan? Try this one on. What if she's already dead? Suicide accomplished?"
Dylan: "I sure hope that's not it, weirdo. But points for selling it."
Norman: "Well done, Norman Bates. Plantin' those seeds, watchin' 'em grow."
GROCERY STORE
Norman awkwardly moves around the store, lingering too long in the girl aisle looking for hair dye, getting a look from a woman -- he's not there yet, lady -- and making for the registers. There, he can't take his eyes off the missing posters for Bradley, everywhere you look. (My notes at this point say, "Register girl is, frankly, amazing," well before she appeared in the credits for week, so that's double good news she's real, because you should not waste this actress, Paloma Kwiatkowski*.)
Register: "Are you... Hello?"
Norman: "Sorry. Weird day. Weird week. Weird life."
Register: "Here for the summer?"
Norman: "I'm a townie, but not like to the degree that you are one. Have you really never noticed me before? Normally people are mesmerized instantly by me."
Register: "No, I am, I just..."
Norman: "Well, I've been here. Not in this grocery store, but in this town."
Register: "Okay, so you're weird. Awesome. Is this your hair dye?"
Norman: "No, it's for a lady. That is my mother. I call her Mother."
Register: "Errands for mom. You're a dying breed, fellow quirky outcast."
Norman: "Aren't we all? Dying. Because you're born and then you..."
Register: "I wish I wasn't at work right now because you are a fucking trip."
Norman: "Okay bye."
*(Her name's gonna be Cody Brennan. Once again, even the girls in the tortured concrete world carry names of men.)
BOATWORLD
Remo has his whole list of best New Gils picked out, from Trace down to Becker to who else could it possibly be? Whoever it is, they're a half-hour late. Dylan stares out the window between the pot, and spots a person who is super gross and has tragic hair and is named Zane. Zane is ten miles of trashy bullshit but I mean, who were you expecting? We lucked out with Remo to begin with.
Remo: "Zane? Oh, gross."
Dylan: "Why is..."
Zane: "-- Hey I'm Zane, I'm tragic, my hair looks like a stupid movie about future homeless people that are addicted to virtual reality drugs, I drive a dumb muscle car and my whole life is a performance that I think I am pulling off."
Dylan: "Cool. I'm Dylan and this is just a job so we don't have to be friends. Or even really get to know each other."
Zane: "Here's how I see it, this is all Gil's fault for getting murdered, and the only way we can fix it is with more and more murders. Like in Eumenides or Romeo & Juliet, where violence solves everything."
Dylan: "Wait, that's the opposite of the..."
Zane: "Good thing I can't read, huh?"
Remo: "Oh my God. What even is my life."
WPBPD
Romero is called to an apartment complex where we find one of my favorite Vancouver Bingo guys, Brendan Fletcher, smoking a bong until the cops arrive and then flushing what seems like a lot of weed to me, then running around all tense around the drugs even though they are there for him killing a lady, which makes me think he did not kill the lady.
Who killed the lady? I don't know. I hope not Norman, but you never know. Who killed Jerry Martin? Almost certainly not Gil Turner, right? This town is so funny like that!
Romero finally gets him -- Kyle -- on his face in the sad backyard strip-of-grass, and I guess now we have a suspect for Miss Watson's murder. And as we'll see, that would be okay even if he didn't do it, because this Kyle, he is a piece of work.
THE HOUSE
I don't remember the events exactly, but Norman and I think Emma came across a lot of Keith Summers/Jake Abernathy's cash money last year and I guess they hid it in the attic (?). I know it figured into how Norma eventually got Romero to kill Abernathy, and so then I guess she came back home with the duffle bag of money? Anyway there's money, and Bradley needs money, so here we are.
Downstairs, Norma hops up seven or so steps toward the attic, then back down again. She is wearing the most amazing black polka-dotted dress, with yellow trim and Peter Pan collar, and her hair is up in a kerchief, and she looks amazing. She looks like a Sixties stage musical. Gah. And her hair this season. What a woman she is.
Anyway, Norma heads down toward the basement -- the music going oh shit for, think about it, two reasons -- and narrowly misses Bradley hiding from her. There's a bit of cat-and-mouse where Norma wanders around, weirded out by her weird son's weird things, and Bradley thinks Norma is going to catch her and send her home and/or to jail, and so it's suspense basically without peril, which is a fun kind sometimes.
Norman: "Hey what's up why are you down here? Come upstairs and be there instead!"
Norma: "Cool because I downloaded some sheet music, let's sing songs together."
Norman: "You downloaded... You mean you printed it? What are you ever talking about. Okay, fine, get out of the basement."
Norma: "Worried about singing in front of your stuffed animals?"
They go upstairs and Bradley breathes, and then Norma sits down at the piano that is in tune and she's coy, and vulnerable, and eventually he joins in. I can't stand to see people sing, it makes me really nervous. It's like you walk in on somebody naked that you weren't planning to see naked, and they're like, holding your gaze, daring you to see them naked, in this very brave, very aggressive, very beautiful way, and it just sends all of my senses into overload.* The only thing worse to me is when somebody laughs until they cry. It makes me want to Kool-Aid Man away through the wall when people do that.
But sometimes, if you love the person very much -- like how much I love Norman Bates, which is more than most things -- then it's okay. You can stand your ground.
*(I already know everybody's a Picasso, I don't need to see it. That much knowing all at once could split you right open.)
Anyway, they sing "Mister Sandman," and Bradley's down on the steps listening hungrily and going more and more out of her mind from what I can tell. Eventually they collapse in Motherboy giggles and are as innocent as ten years before any of this happened, for a second, and he's like, "Fine."
Norman: "I will go make an ass out of myself for your sake, Mother."
Mother: "Yeah, I know. I mean, thanks. I mean, great!"
WPBPD INTERROGATION RM
Okay the whole thing with Kyle is so unsavory and he's so convinced of his innocence and so blasé about the rest of his litany of crimes that it's just gross. I will give you the facts and we will move right along.
Within thirty hours of her death, the very busy Miss Blaire Watson found time between chaperoning a dance and trying to molest a boy to have sex with at least two men, going by the semen samples, one of which is Kyle's. Who in his time has sold tainted drugs that killed at least three people, and also he murdered his old girlfriend Carly Walters, and left her -- Romero says poetically -- "floating face-down out in the kelp beds," which is one reason Romero and Kyle are so intimate. Anyway, Kyle's sole response/alibi is that Miss Watson was fucked up and had daddy issues and was "troubled," and... sometimes I guess you die from that?* Kind of like the Twinkie Defense, only with hundreds maybe thousands of dicks.
*(Just kidding, all it really means is that you're not important enough for it to matter how you died. It flattens everything out, asymptotically, when you're a big old whore like Miss Blaire Ford Watson, of the White Pine Bay Drug Cartel Fords.)
She had sex, dot dot dot, she died. Any questions?
BASEMENT
Wearing the adorable coveralls he uses to keep the blood off his pristine clothing, Norman puts enough precision and detail into dyeing Bradley's hair for her that it could very well be the most carefully dyed hair in the world.
Bradley: "Is it all out?"
Norman: "It seems to be. The water's running clear."
They dry her off and run through their big romantic plan: Leave at 8 for Cold Creek, up the coast, where a Boston-bound bus will pick her up at 10:30 and then she's gone forever, dead and gone and free.
Bradley: "Wait, you can suddenly drive?"
Norman: "Babe, I do what I want. Mother can't tell me what to do. Not tonight.*"
She thanks him, stepping close. Not because of the sex they had, or the feelings he's still got for her, but because she was the first person in town to fall under his spell.
"I always knew there was something special about you," she says, "Something different. I wasn't wrong."
She's young enough -- they're both young enough -- that even telling him this doesn't quite feel like a quid pro quo, or a manipulation. It passes the sniff test. There was always something special about her too.
*("Please do not tell Mother I said that.")
REMO
Is rocking quite a large belt buckle, futzing around the scene pulling weeds apart, hair perfect as usual. Zane drives up in his stupid car with his stupid hair and just...
Remo: "Zane? Is a lame-ass poser. He thinks life is Scarface. The Big Boss is his brother. Classic guy who shouldn't be in the business, but is."
Dylan: "He does sound horrible. You said he was in prison? Was it something awful?"
Remo: "More masculinity posturing, what else? He was taking a shipment to our Vegas distributors and got clocked doing 95."
Dylan: "Why would you speed with drugs in your car?"
Remo: "That's our friend fuckin' Zane, in a nutshell. When I think about it I almost understand how your mom feels all the time. Being under the control of an asshole simply by the accident of his birth, and knowing you can't do shit about it."
Dylan: "You're in physical danger the second you ask the question. And that's your whole life. And meanwhile the guy in question is so safe in the world he gets to spend all his energy impressing other guys that only exist in his head."
Remo: "Plus he looks like a slightly less gross Ethan Hawke."
Zane opens the trunk of his stupid penis car and out pops a fairly tragic young fella named Johnny B, who works for the Ford Family, as in Nick Ford, and then after about one second of asking Johnny B about Gil's murder, which the Ford family did not do, he pulls out a gun and shoots Johnny B in the head and that's the end of Johnny B. I cannot relate to you how quickly this all happens or how much Zane hated the few middle seconds of narrative that he had to wait, before the shot. How happy all this makes him.
"Wrap him up in the tarp and drop him off in front of Nick Ford's house."
HIS ROOM
Norma's making his bed when Miss Watson's pearls drop out from under the mattress, along with her obituary. His two totems. She barely takes a second to think before slipping them back under there and keeps it up for a second; after one hospital corner, she leans against the foot of the bed, silently. It's not an abstraction anymore, now. Whatever it is.
Worst case scenario, she thinks, they're trophies. But we know better. No version of Norman works like that, now or in the far-flung future: He doesn't keep things to gloat, he keeps them to honor; burial is betrayal. And this, we know and Norma doesn't, go beyond that: They're more like a rosary, because he let her die. Because caught between one kind of shame and another, he left someone kind and soft in the darkness.
AUDITIONS
Norma leads him by the hand, skipping, dancing, to a large stage. This shit is very professional that they have in WPB. And best of all, they have Christine Heldens. If you don't know the actress yet, Rebecca Creskoff, trust me that she is the best thing in the world. Her character on Hung, Lenore, was the standout of the show every single year, and one of those deals where it's impossible to imagine her played properly by anybody else. You know how much I hate camp and all that, so operatic bitches are a tough needle to thread anyway -- just ask Norma how rarely it works for me -- but I cannot stress how much she brought to it. What a lovely mix they will be.
Anyway, Norma's giggling to herself and so into this moment of being backstage (everybody being creative, doing their own thing instead of trying to constantly obstruct or suppress her) that she almost forgets to monitor Norman's entire life and body signs at all times as though it is her own.
Norma: "I'm Norma Bates, and I am here to audition!"
Norman: "There are fucking a million people here. We should leave."
Norma: "Great to meet ya!"
Norman: "I need to go at eight for reasons that are not important."
Norma: "Honey this place is great! Maybe we'll never leave!"
Norman: "How are you so happy right now? This is like if the taxidermy animals really did come to life, and dance up on you."
Norma: "These are our people! We are boho, we have a motel, but we're also middle-class because we're business owners! That's theater people, right in that sweet spot."
Norman: "Are you somehow unaware the stage calls to the most insecure, self-centered people on the fucking planet? Did you know the second you pull your bipolar shit on them they're gonna circle you like a parliament of rooks and peck your eyes out? Do you really think being a narcissist among narcissists is going to make you happy?"
Norma: "I kind of feel like it's going to!"
Norman: "Fine. Maybe this time."
She stares at him in that deep way, begging him to be present for this or else she will die, and he takes her hand, nodding indulgently. Back home, Bradley packs up in the basement, being all sad and lonesome, and the whole time he's getting antsier and antsier, and it's closer and closer to eight, and finally he lies that he's got a movie date with Emma, and that doesn't work either, and finally he just flails out of the room entirely. And Norma takes off after him -- engaging in drama/hating the drama, embarrassed/unembarrassed -- faster than we've seen her move since the time she ran around the entire car, and just as hilarious toward the end. Sister can hustle.
OUTSIDE
By the time they're outside, this is solely about Norma. She finally found a world, an oasis within the world, that was thriving in creativity and art that was calling to her and he's making her an asshole, embarrassing her. Norman does not do that math correctly.
Norman: "I don't care how it looks, Mother! I don't want to be here! I don't want to do this! It's stupid! You just get these ideas in your head, and everyone's supposed to want to do them, and you get hurt if we don't! Now all of a sudden it's community theater? Since when did you care about the theater? It's a stupid musical!"
Norma: "Before we walked in there, I wanted to do something fun with you. Like the mom and kid I saw at the..."
Norman: "Mother! We live together, yeah? We work together. We eat every meal together. We sleep six inches away from each other, with a thin wall between us. Don't you think that's probably enough?"
His nasty face, and the way his hands work the "six inches" part of the speech, are breathtaking. Even Norma is forced to take stock.
Norma: "...Oh, got it. I, okay, I want to protect you. This is about protecting you."
Norman: "Oh my God, from what?"
Norma: "Hmm. Okay. The night Miss Watson was killed, do you...? What do you remember, other than what you already told me?"
Norman: (Shivers.)
Norma: "Where did you get those pearls?"
He's Norman; he doesn't bother making excuses. Always this relief in disclosure; in closing the gap between himself and the part of himself that is her: They were in his pocket the morning. He told her the whole story, dot dot dot, there were pearls. Norma breaks down in a terrifying way, and starts repeating, shaking herself apart with it: "I'm so scared. I'm so scared, I'm so scared, I'm so scared..."
He moves toward her like water, and half of her wants to pull away. But eventually he catches her, pulling her into his arms.
"Mother? Stop it. Please, stop it. You're being silly. Imagining silly things."
He confabulates a story for them both, a nonsense story about finding them somewhere at the dance and wanting to turn them in, and just forgetting. "You're getting all worked up over an idea about nothing." Without even hearing himself, or how skillfully she's done it, he tries to pilot her back into the theater, so they can do something fun together.
Norma: "I can't, Norman. I'm too upset!"
Norman: "Ugh, come on."
Norma: "And you're... You have to be somewhere..."
Norman: "All right, lady. Come on. You downloaded sheet music for this. We've prepared for this. We are going to do this together. It is going to solve the problem."
Norma: "Keep selling."
Norman, verbatim: "It'll break my heart if we go home now. Okay?"
Norma: "Well, okay. But only if you really want to."
But when she's gone, he's still got three women to care for. Miss Watson, who must be avenged, and Bradley, who must be saved, and Norma, who must be appeased. Whose pain hurts him worse than his own. He breathes, and immediately dials the phone. Norman really is being even more wonderful than usual this week.
"Hey. Dylan, I need you to listen to me, okay? You can't start asking a bunch of questions, because time is of the essence. I'm with Mom, and I can't get away, or I would do this myself. I lied to you, okay? I do know what happened to Bradley. She's hiding in our basement. And she's ready to be driven to Cold Creek to get on a bus that leaves in two hours, that'll take her to Boston, where she's going to start her life over."
Dylan: "Obviously I will do anything for you, but not until you explain why Bradley is in our basement. Please don't tell me she..."
Norman: "She killed the man that killed her father. Some guy Gil Turner. I think he worked in your business. Dylan? You there?"
Dylan: "Oh boy."
Norman: "You'll get her on that bus?"
Dylan: "...Yeah."
His softest voice; the tears that come out when he realizes he won't be there. That this won't be their story; that he's already said goodbye.
"Thank you, Dylan. And tell her I'm sorry? That I really wanted to be able to do this for her myself?"
That, he already knew. Dylan heads downstairs to get her, and she hops to without question. This is her story too. It's a beginning, because it has to be.
MAYBE THIS TIME
Norman is suave, when Christine calls Norma down from the stands for her song; she can't let go of his hand, quite, as she heads down the stairs in her flats and hisses at the pianist that she forgot her sheet music. When he smiles, she sets her back straight, and goes for it.
"Maybe This Time" is automatically one of the saddest songs in the world. It's one of those songs that's a little too Broadway for me to understand it as a song, but I'm familiar enough that I started tearing up the second she started. Oh, Norma. It couldn't be anything else, could it? In the whole hard world.
Maybe this time, I'll be lucky / Maybe this time he'll stay
Maybe this time, for the first time / Love won't hurry away
He will hold me fast / I'll be home at last
Not a loser anymore / Like the last time, and the time before
Everybody loves a winner / So nobody loved me
Lady peaceful, Lady happy / That's what I long to be
All the odds are, they're in my favor
Something's bound to begin
It's gotta happen, happen sometime
Maybe this time... I'll win
It is stunning, in multiple senses of the word. She breaks down toward the end, turning her face up like a sunflower; turning herself into something very bright, and very hopeful, like a fast-burning star. They are both crying, of course -- this is his theme too -- but his smile is proud and his eyes are prouder. The whole room is erupting in applause. They think she's acting: Everybody loves a winner, so nobody loved me.
I mean, my God. Sometimes I understand musicals for a second, and then it goes away again.
KYLE
Romero comes to Kyle's cell, and plops down to him on the bench. Keeps it short and sweet, and informs him he's been charged with the murder of Blaire Watson.
"You're a shit heel, Kyle, and if there were any justice you'd have been on Death Row a long time ago." And then he peaces, just like that. Kyle flips out, of course, since he didn't do it, but Romero's long gone.
THE HILLSIDE CAFÉ
Is a bus station diner in Cold Creek. Dylan and Bradley share a last silent meal together, waiting for the bus. She is wearing a beanie and looks tore up. He's sorry for her, but glad to see her safe.
Dylan: "You know, it killed my brother that he couldn't be the one here. Doing this for you."
Bradley: "Of course it did."
Dylan pulls up a notebook and rips out some pages; she watches with interest until he starts talking.
Dylan: "I need you to... Write a suicide note. Okay? There's a really bad guy, so lost that he doesn't even know how bad he is, so bad that it rattled me more than anything that's happened so far, and he's looking for the person who killed Gil. You need to be off the map. I'm going to leave some of your clothes by the rocks at the beach, with your note. Do you need me to tell you what to write?"
Bradley: "I've been writing it my whole life. I got this."
Maybe this time, though. She was a favorite. Everybody on this whole show is so wonderful.
BATES MOTEL
Emma runs up, breathing heavy, the second they pull in. It's around ten, meaning she closed up the office and waited for them, to save them a night of worry.
Emma: "They've, uh, arrested someone. For the murder of Miss Watson."
The response, from both of the Bates, is confusing. Norma gives him a look and they try to quickly do the math about how, or if, to celebrate this; as one they remember that Miss Watson was a beloved teacher who deserves justice, and they are allowed to be happy. Norma, of course, throws herself on Emma and overdoes it, earning a funny shrug over her shoulder at Norman. But he's happy too.
They are all three very beautiful by the lamplight at the bottom of the hill. He doesn't mince words, following his mother home on his old long-legs body; Emma waits to be a part of the story again, watches them go.
Emma: "Your mom's such a good person. She cares so much."
Norman: "She cares. A lot. Good night, Emma."
I hope that was the thaw and they can get back to their tricks. The fact that he plucked the movie-with-Emma thing out of the air makes me think that process is already underway, but I want to see it for sure. He heads upstairs, and waits on the porch for Dylan to come home.
Dylan sees Bradley onto the bus, and they stare, without waving, and she's gone. He drives back down the coast to White Pine Bay, parks that truck down the hill, and makes his way up, to where Norman's still sitting. His vigil is the best he can do, now.
He's happy to hear she's gone, and safe; Dylan watches his face for a moment before heading inside, and Norman reads her note.
Norman: You are the best person I have ever known. Bradley.
It's not even a shine-on: That would be literally true, wouldn't it. He needed a win today, and now he's got three. Miss Watson will be avenged, Bradley's safe, and Norma has found her joy in something other than him. So he allows himself a smile, and we pan up, and away, past even Norma's bedroom windows. Into white:
CALEB
We don't see the guy's face for a while, but his name was in the credits so we know. He approaches an old dude, working under an elevated car, and asks directions to the Bates Motel, a few miles down the road.
Mechanic: "I was just there, though. No Vacancy sign was on."
The guy says he's not really looking for a room there, no matter how tired (or wired) he seems. He's just trying to find his sister, Norma Bates.
WEEK
Dylan immediately gets a vibe off Caleb, I'd imagine, and tries to figure out what the deal is. This is, of course, the way to push all of Norma's buttons at once. That's the entire Perfect Storm right there. Christine introduces Norma to Bay society, while Cody does the same. Cody's boyfriend is maybe a little too friendly, with poor old mesmerizing Norman, because outlaws have no rules. Norma meets Nick Ford somehow, which is interesting, and the bodies start piling up, which Romero's not going to love. Mostly I just want* to know what the hell Caleb wants, and when he's apt to leave town.
*(Bradley to come back immediately.)
JACOB CLIFTON is a freelance writer and critic based in Austin, Texas. He currently recaps The Good Wife, Bates Motel, The Blacklist, and Pretty Little Liars for TWoP. Jacob can be found online at jacobclifton.com, Twitter, and Facebook, and a regular column for Tor.com, Geek Love.