“ Wow, that's a pretty broad generalization. But I guess Marla's just trying to make a point. About janitors. ”
Props to, of all people, DEK, for firing Robert Downey Jr.'s ass from Ally McBeal. He really needs a no-tolerance policy, and no work in Hollywood, and no support from anyone, so he can hit rock bottom and start to get better. Good for you, DEK. ("You fire him, David, right now, or no more nookie." "Yes, Michelle.") Now write some good dialogue for Boston Public, please.
Previously on Boston Public: The Bus Lady figured out that Steven had never really met her daughter; Coach Lamprey, in the only plot line he ever had, tried to convince Christine "Blob" Banks to wrestle on the boys' team; she did and kicked major butt; Blob's Dad tried to convince her to stop wrestling 'cause it's humiliating; Blob kept winning, and people cheered for her using the name "Blob"; the mother of the girl who puked in the morgue yelled at Steven and ordered Anthony Heald to smell a shoe; Harry told Dana "Slow-lita" Poole that they could still be friends even though she turned their measly kiss into a huge deal for the first five episodes of the show; Blob told the wrestling crowd that she wants to be called "Christine" and so they started cheering "Christine."
Scott "Look At Me" Guber stalks the halls, lookin' for trouble. Peering into an open classroom, he finds Harvey Lipschultz sitting at a desk, alone. "Harvey? May I ask what you're doing?" Harvey says that he's waiting to teach History, but his class didn't show up, and neither did Marla Hendricks. "I think she's done something with them." Yes, because she stopped taking her crazy pills. Anthony Heald asks if Harvey really thinks Marla did something with all of them, and Harvey says yes, gesturing emphatically to the empty room, in front of the large model of the solar system that graces every high school History classroom. "Do you see any, Scott?" says Harvey. Scott says, "No, and it might cause me concern, were this in fact your classroom, Harvey. You're on the wrong floor." Scott leaves. Harvey says, "Dammit." Yes, Harvey, the score now stands -- You: Zero. Senility: Eleven Thousand.
In the real History classroom, one floor down, "Men Are From" Marla "Women Are From" Hendricks is teaching a classroom chock full of students. She's saying how wonderful it was to spend the last few nights grading the students' exams. Hmmm. My sarcasma-sense is tingling. Marla says, "I was overwhelmed. Ms. Stuart, could you stand up please? Ms. Stuart, when was World War Two?" Ms. Stuart asks if she got that wrong, and Marla's all, "Did you get it wrong? I don't know. You answered late sixties. How many here think World War Two was in the late sixties?" No one raises their hand, not even Ms. Stuart, which begs the question: why did she put that down, eh, if she doesn't think it's the answer? Maybe she's familiar with the fine art of subtlety, as demonstrated by Marla in this scene. Marla now turns her attention to another student, who apparently said that General Patton "invented General Electric, and now whenever somebody invents something, he has to get a Patton on it, so no one will steal his idea." Well obviously there are no Pattons on storylines and characters from other shows and movies about high school, because otherwise there's lots of Patton violations right here in this room. Anyway, Marla asks how many people studied for the test, and only a few people raise their hands. "You wanna be high school dropouts? Fine. Let's all be high school dropouts. I want everybody out in the parking lot, now. We're all gonna be janitors. That's what high school dropouts become. Up. Everybody's gonna go outside and pick up trash." Wow, that's a pretty broad generalization. But I guess Marla's just trying to make a point. About janitors. The camera focuses on one kid in particular, who looks down, stung. He probably comes from a long line of janitors. Another girl objects to this punishment: "I studied for that test. I bet I did good on that test. So why do I have to pick up garbage, when I did good?" And before I can type "I guess the test didn't involve grammar," Marla's all, "You're picking up garbage for having awful grammar. And whether you did 'good' or not, school is not an institution that gives customized treatment. We treat the masses, and the masses in this classroom didn't do 'good.' Now go pick up some garbage, before I send your little do-goody self to Guber." That stuff about treating the masses sounds an awful lot like the "too many of them, too few of us" speech Steven gave to Courtney B. Vance in the pilot. I guess Steven didn't get a Patton on that monologue. Anyhow, all the students file out of the room, just in time for Harvey to wander in. He looks around the now empty room, perplexed. He checks the clock. He says, "Hm. Where is it?"
Chapter Eighteen
Credits. I hope Thomas Newman got a Patton on this music, or else people might listen to it while stoned at laseriums across the country.
The Hallway, where it all goes down. Literally, back in Chapter Four. The guest-star credits promise an appearance from Thomas McCarthy, a.k.a. Coach Lamprey the Plot Parasite. I bet he's back 'cause he heard someone strips in this episode, and he wants to have a scene where he tells someone to tell her to stop stripping. Anyhow, Scott is telling Principal Steve all about Harvey's funny senility. "We're going to have to outfit his desk with a lo-jack, Steven, otherwise" But Scott is then distracted by a passing teacher we haven't seen before, and flags him down, "Mr. Scofield! I couldn't help but notice, nearly all the students in your twelfth-grade language arts class are getting As, many of which students average a B-minus or less in their other classes." What is a language arts class? This school has two types of classes: History with Marla and Harvey, and Random Crap DEK Makes Up. I mean, honestly, what is Harry Senate ever actually teaching in the dungeon? What urban public high school really does have a class only on Shakespeare? What does Lauren actually teach? Social Studies? What is that? Anyway, we can see where this conversation is going: "Are you that good a teacher? Do these students just try harder for you? Or might you err on the generous side?" This question is rhetorical, but Mr. Scofield answers it anyway. "I'm not too stringent about grades, I admit, but my philosophy is that learning should be" Learning-schmearning, says Scott, insisting that he make his students earn their grades. Scott says, "There is a current movement afoot" And Mr. Scofield says, "Yes, in my bowels." Guh? What does that mean? Is that supposed to be a witty rejoinder? Are we to believe that Mr. Scofield's bowels move when people annoy him? Anyhow, Scott, with a slightly more menacing tone and glare, goes on, "There is a movement to obliterate SATs and other forms of standardized testing." Mr. Scofield says he supports it. Scott's all, "Excellent, I'll make sure you get a cookie." Heh. "Dispensing with standardized tests would place a greater burden on the faculty to reflect the skills of the students with grades." The conversation escalates at this point into two simultaneous rants, overlapping, making it impossible to make out what either of them are saying exactly. But, basically, Mr. Scofield tells Scott not to tell him how to teach, and that his kids might even be learning better, and Scott tell Mr. Scofield not to dole out As like lollipops to bolster his own confidence, and to stop talking while he is trying to talk. Ultimately, Mr. Scofield says something about not being a cadet at West Point (zuh?) and calls Scott an autocratic hack. Scott says, "Here's thirty-five cents. Call your union rep. Tell him you've just been fired."
Elsewhere in the school -- or rather, in the same hallway shot from a different angle -- Lisa "My-Fair-Lita" Greer chases down Harry Senate. "What's your relationship with Dana Poole these days?" Harry says it's completely platonic, which was more or less always true, and asks how Lisa's doing with Milton. She doesn't answer, probably because she hasn't seen him in weeks since he left the show. Anyway, Lisa tells Harry that Dana Poole, or "Slow-lita" as we came to know and love her in earlier recaps, is stripping during her break for study hall to pick up some extra cash. Harry looks perturbed. So do I. Okay: I buy a student stripping to pick up extra cash. I mean, lord knows we've all done that, right, Sars? Sars? But why would she do it during the school day? That can't be when the best money is made, and it would probably be easier for her to go strip at night anyway. Then again, I suppose doing it during school makes it less likely that a classmate will walk in and see her, but I don't recall that explanation being proffered when I watched this for the first time. But this time I'll actually pay attention.
From yet another angle, the hallway appears to contain Marilyn "I Couldn't Conduct Electricity" Souter and Christine "My Name Is Not 'The Blob'" Banks. The former is chasing down the latter. Ms. Souter says, "I'm gonna be honest with you, your essay was a huge disappointment. It read like you just whipped it off in an hour. Did you?" Christine says maybe, while making the look-to-the-side-and-scrunch-mouth-to-convey-untruth face. Marilyn tells Christine not to let her work slip just because wrestling has made her popular. What. Ever. Christine tries to walk away, and Marilyn stops her so she can give another lecture. "You used to reject what people said about you. Now that you like what they're saying you're accepting their version instead of your own, which was far more discriminating." Yeah, good point. Except it's not true. Christine always accepted other people's opinion of her, like that boyfriend who dumped her. Yeah, she was so confident; that's why Lauren found her crying in the shower. Maybe Marilyn would be better acquainted with Christine's past if she'd ever spoken to her before this moment. I don't know why they're spoon-feeding us this idea that Marilyn's her friend now. Christine tells Marilyn, as politely as she can, to back off because she's in the wrestling finals. Marilyn gives her another lecture about not letting the wrestling get in the way of her work ethic. Christine body-slams Marilyn against the lockers, breaking her lecturing face. In my fertile imagination.
From still another angle, Steven can be seen in this very hallway, stopping to talk to a group of four young female students, giggling together. "You're Marie Roening," he says to the one who looks like the Bus Lady from Chapter Seventeen. She agrees that, indeed, she is. Steven introduces himself, and tells Marie he's heard a lot of great things about her, and that he just wanted to say hi. Then he asks the other girls their names, and they seem very realistic, much more like high school students than like actors playing high school students. For one thing, they're the right age. Anyway, at a loss for anything else to say, Steven says, "Don'tdo drugs," and wanders off. Smooth. The girl walk off in the other direction, to do some drugs.
The office. The Exposition Fairy hands Steven some notes as he comes in, and also tells him that Scott is waiting in the Sanctum Stevenorium, for reasons unspecified: "He just marched in and sat down." Sure enough, there he is, looking abashed. "I may have acted with imprudence," he says. And you know he's done something really bad when he regrets an exercise of power. Steven asks what now. "I fired Darren Scofield." Oh, the grade-inflater who called him an autocratic hack -- that Darren Scofield? That's not such a big deal. But Steven begs his pardon. Scott swears that he did not intend to usurp Steven's authority, but we've heard that before. Scott's just the Prince John of Winslow High, waiting for Steven's King Richard to go off on a crusade, as it were, fighting, oh, I don't know, the Moors from Spain. King Steven asks why Prince Scott fired Darren. "We had an exchange in the corridor which unfortunately grew heated, it culminated in him calling me a hack in a common area, I felt the insubordination was egregious, I fired him." Steven points out that Darren is a good teacher (maybe, but so are Lauren Davis and Marla Hendricks in Steven's opinion), a popular teacher (well, no kidding, him tossing out As like confetti an all), and, they say in unison, "we have a shortage." Steven wants to rehire Darren, and Anthony Heald resists for a moment, but caves when Steven reiterates his point of view slowly and with more of a gravely tone. "And at some point," Steven adds before leaving his own office and leaving Scott in it (buh?), "you and I need to talk as well."
To the strains of a very appropriate song about moving your sexy body, a scantily clad woman moves her sexy body. She's wearing as little clothing as she can get away with on prime-time network television, but too much clothing to convince me that she's a stripper. If this were Europe, she'd be topless. I hate America. A nation of puritanical hypocrites. (Uh-oh, using the phrase "I hate America" has now flagged this recap for research at the FBI domestic terrorism unit. So has the phrase "domestic terrorism." I can just see it, Feds poring over my whole oeuvre: "Coach Lamprey the Plot Parasite is obviously a code-name for a high level operative in this so-called 'Mighty Big TV' cult-like criminal cell." Wait, who's that at my door?) Anyhow, various sexy bodies dance around poles, and Harry Senate sits, eyes downcast, not looking at the dancers. He has a pointless exchange with the guy to him, whom he insults, I guess to establish that Harry is just so much better than the people who "really" come to these places. His moral superiority is evinced by the fact that the guy to him is wearing a fake-hair-crooked-teeth-and-sunglasses disguise. No, really, he is; I'm not kidding. I don't know what that part of the scene is about. Anyhow, the current act ends, and the dancer comes out, and it's Dana "Slow-lita" Poole, who, not so slow at all now, makes short work of her halter top and fringed hip-covering-thing and is down to a G-string by the time she notices Harry sitting right there. She dances well, by the way. I never thought she was that pretty, but she looks good here. I am inspired to write a novel about her, and it will begin thusly: "Slow-lita. Light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul. The tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps, down the palette, to tap at three on the teeth. Slow. Li. Ta." Aaaanyway, unfortunately for Dana, she's bending over and looking back between her own legs when she spots Harry, upside-down, shaking his head in condescending admonishment at, I suppose, her ass. She stands up, a little stunned, and then runs off the stage. Wow. I guess she's not so Slow-lita after all, but we'll reserve judgement on a new nickname until we determine why she's stripping. Okay, so I've already picked a new nickname for her, but it won't make sense until later on, so just wait, okay, it's coming. Harry leaves, his work done: he got her to stop stripping for the day, and got a look at her rack.