Shout out to owen, bstewart, and Sars.
So Dawson, with slightly better hair, welcomes us to the WB Wednesday. Previews. Disclaimer. Previously on Dawson's Creek. Fishcakes.
Open on a TV in the Sanctum Dawsonorum (tm Sars) showing some Jimmy Stewart movie. Pan across the Sanctum to reveal Pacey "Hedgehog Head" Witter at the desk picking at a pizza and asking Dawson "Tintin" Leery (who is sitting pyjamaed on his bed) for the crushed peppers. Dawson throws the shaker at Pacey and tells him, "you're driving me crazy." Pacey defends himself by saying he's a hungry person. Dawson counters that Pacey is "an annoying person," and not to get all Dina on him but TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE, Dawson, as you take a sip of product-placed Pepsi and try to concentrate on the movie. Pacey says he's a bored person: "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Dawson? Come on, it's in black and white!" Dawson answers, "It's a Frank Capra classic" like nice conventional movie tastes, Big D. Pacey says, "Buncha dead people in it. Everybody in this movie is decomposing somewhere. It's morbid! Y'know, we got this whole section at the video store; it's called 'New Releases.' You should check it out." Dawson starts to get agitated and says, "Pacey, this is a timeless tale about a man faced with his heroic nature," in a line that made no sense at all and is in fact just a bunch of significant-sounding words strung together without any logical arrangement. Dawson, you are not a failing second-year university English student at 3:00 AM the day a big paper is due. Please don't bother trying to impress Pacey, who answers, "You know, I can't really connect with the whole wholesome and morally [sic] ground; that's more your style, Dawson. Who you are," and that didn't make a lot of sense either but at least it got a bit closer than whatever blather was coming out of Dawson's sorry mouth. Dawson suspiciously asks, "Are you insulting me?" Pacey answers no: "You're an endangered species, my friend! The last of a dying breed. And this movie is killing you softly with its song." Oh, for God's sake. Okay, Kevin Williamson, we know you know a lot about pop culture. Please give us a damn break. Dawson squints at Pacey and says, "You are insulting me." Pacey insists, "No, I'm stating the obvious. You take in stray dogs, Dawson. You help old women across the street. You 'just say no.' You are Jimmy Stewart!" I have to interject here that in fact Dawson is not Jimmy Stewart anymore than was Tom Hanks, the last person erroneously identified as Jimmy Stewart's latest incarnation. Jimmy Stewart was Jimmy Stewart. Slightly naïve, apparently upstanding, soft-hearted men are not necessarily Jimmy Stewart. Enough, already. ["Jimmy Stewart was also pretty cute and a good actor, neither of which you can say about Dawson/Van Der Beek." -- Sars] Dawson asks, "What does that make you?" Pacey sends out the first invitation to his pity party and answers, "The needless waste. Born to walk in the shadows of greater men." "Somebody's having a self-esteem crisis," observes Dawson. I have never heard any straight guy refer to any of his guy friends as "somebody" in that way. The only people who do that are girls, mothers, and gay men. You know it and I know it. Pacey says, "No, no, no. On the contrary, my friend. Knowledge is power. I'm quite happy with my below-average status."
Before Dawson can give Pacey his patented "Buck Up, Little Camper" routine, Jen "Marinated Pork Chops" Lindley climbs in through the window saying, "I dropped my purse in your hedge; remind me tomorrow. [Indecipherable] in here. Hey, Pacey," all while crawling onto Dawson's bed and collapsing on it, width-wise instead of length-wise. ["Nope, nothing Freudian about that image selection...although if purse = vagina and hedge = mons pubis, I'm a little confused. Anyhow." -- Sars] Dawson gazes bemusedly at her. "Looks like you've got company," says Pacey. "Third time this week," Dawson replies. "Come here, help me out," he adds, moving toward Jen's feet and taking her boots off. Pacey says, "Once again, hero Dawson to the rescue." Dawson tells him to shut up. Pacey says, "It's not exactly the ideal situation...too bad for you." Jen starts groaning, sits up a little and says she thinks she's going to be sick. Dawson grabs a garbage pail and positions it under her face. There's a beat before she exhales loudly and says it was a false alarm, lying down again. "I don't know what to do with her; she's spiralling," says Dawson, as usual not sounding like any high school student anywhere ever has since the dawn of time. Pacey says, "Maybe you should just finish watching the movie. Jimmy Stewart would know what to do," and if the theme of this episode is that Dawson=Jimmy Stewart, I will be sick -- and I'm not even that big a Jimmy Stewart fan.
Over at Capeside High School, we get a voice-over of some bored, cranky authoritative man saying, "Witter, Pacey," instantly making me think it's a guidance counsellor. The guy continues (from inside, now): "Grade point average 1.7 [ouch!], currently failing Biology, and U.S. History. Extra-curricular interests: none. Tendency to be disruptive in class. Has difficulty with tests requiring a number 2 pencil. Let's see, here: Career Aptitude Test? I didn't realize that it was possible to fail an aptitude test. This shows that you have absolutely zero career objectives." Yeah, like you're one to talk; you're a guidance counsellor (and yes, I know they're an easy target, but there is a good reason for that). "Congratulations," continues Mr. Bitter, "most people with your academic record can't walk upright." Surely that kind of psychological battering is in violation of some school regulations; I mean, I never thought I'd say this but I really think that Pacey deserves better. Sure, he's obviously lazy, but he's not a bad kid, and this guidance counsellor is not behaving in a very professional way if he takes such sadistic pleasure in Pacey's difficulties. (This is not to say that I objected to the behaviour of the English teacher last week; at least teachers do generally have cause for their hopeless attitude: hard experience.) But I digress. Pacey shrugs and asks what his options are. Evil Guidance Dude answers, "Summer school. Followed by a return engagement of your sophomore year. And if, by some miracle, you make it to graduation, a life of leisure. Until welfare reform kicks in, that is." MAN! Someone call Superintendent Chalmers on this guy. Poor Pacey doesn't even have the self-confidence to glare at Evil Guidance Dude, but just gazes downward, licks his lips, and generally looks dismayed. "What?" says Evil Guidance Dude. "No witty comeback? Now I'm really disappointed in you, Pacey." Pacey throws his head back and groans. I am organizing an angry mob to go set Evil Guidance Dude's house on fire. Who's with me?
Then we get Dawson excitedly running down the hall calling to Joey "Archie or Reggie?" Potter, who, when he catches up with her, looks alarmed. He tells her they won, "The Boston Film Festival: we won the Jurors' Prize for the Best Short Film in the Junior division." Um, first of all, yeah right. Second of all, whoever wrote this episode should have put a whole lot more conditions on that award, like maybe "Best Short Film in the Junior division among Directors with Bad Dye Jobs originating on Cape Cod and featuring a Porcine Performer in a Leading Role." Anyway, whatever, I will TRY to believe that horrible film won anything outside the Razzies, as will Joey who gets excited too, as Dawson reads from the letter: "'The clever send-up of the horror genre shows a profound understanding of the traditional Hollywood machinations [except that Dawson pronounces it "massinations"] and turns them upside-down in an entirely refreshing and entertaining way,'" and I really doubt an official letter like that would use adjectives so indiscriminately and excessively, but if I'm suspending my disbelief that far, I guess it can be suspended that little bit more. Joey grins a little scarily. Dawson reads on: "'Writer-Director Dawson Leery and Producer Joey Potter have been allotted a budget of $2500 toward their project,'" and I think they'd call it a grant or an award, and not a budget but WHATEVER. And Dawson reiterates for Joey, whom I guess he thinks is not so bright, "It's a cheque for $2500 to finance our movie. We've already been pre-accepted into their winter workshop." Joey looks dismayed, and certainly less excited than Dawson, and says, "We?" "Yeah," says Dawson. "I mean, I understand that we said we'd give each other space and I totally respect that" like NO YOU DON'T "but I was wondering, I mean, hoping, that you'd still produce. Think about it; we could actually rent equipment. Say goodbye to halogen lamp lighting or shopping-cart dollies. And if we move fast we could get it finished by the summer, maybe travel with it to other festivals," and I hope Joey is seeing what I do -- that Dawson's plans are pitifully unrealistic -- but is trying to spare his feelings by telling him, "Dawson, I'm really sorry, but I don't think I can do it. I mean, I don't think I have the time right now. I just signed up for some art classes, and between work and school --" "We made such a great team!" Dawson says, even more pitifully. Joey nods sadly, but says nothing. Dawson recovers as quickly as he can and says he understands. Joey says, "Listen, this is amazing, you should be thrilled. It's incredible." Dawson stammers a bit and answers that he is, and then takes off, presumably to go nurse his fragile ego. Joey gazes distressedly after him for a moment until Jack "Not Wanted at the Orgy" McPhee comes up behind her and asks if she's got a second. She says she's late for second period. Jack says he wants to make things right between them: "It was a full moon." Somewhere, Sars sticks a fork in her eye. "I know that's no excuse, but I'm really sorry. Just tell me what I gotta do to get our friendship back on track here, because this whole silent treatment thing is killing me." Joey says she hasn't been giving him the silent treatment, but that she's trying to figure things out. Jack says she's been avoiding him like he's got some kind of disease. I can attest to the fact that he's giving me a rash, but Joey insists that she's just had a lot on her mind lately. Jack: "So you're not mad at me." Joey: "I think you had it right the night of the dance. Um, more than anything I guess I was mad at myself." Jack: Oh, well, then, you know, get over it already. This whole inner personal turmoil thing, it just kinda wrinkles up your forehead." Both: "chuckle." Wing Chun: "Please shut up, both of you." Jack: "Besides, I miss hanging out with you." Bell: "Ring." Joey: "Gotta go." Jack: "Yeah, see ya." Wing Chun: "WHATEVER."
In the cafeteria, Dawson is pecking at the keyboard of a pretty top-of-the-line-looking notebook computer which looks better than the one I am writing on at this very moment. And, okay, I admit that I am not in high school now, nor have I been for some time, but when I was in university occasionally you'd see the odd person using what was then called a "laptop" computer in class, and everyone would hate that person and assume that he or she was a pretentious jerk, which was usually the case, and is here as well with Dawson who pays no attention to Jen as she approaches until she says hey, and even then all he says is, "How's the hangover?" like how about a hello, or how about looking at her for longer than a split second, or can't you spare the energy as you swim across LAKE SUPERIOR? Jen says, "Post-Advil, it's fine. So, what are you writing?" Dawson flicks his eyes back at her to answer, "A script." "Really, that's great," says Jen. "Yeah," says Dawson, "great, and, funded," and hands her the letter. She reads it and marvels, "Twenty-five hundred dollars? Dawson, you won. You actually won?" And I guess Dawson does have time to talk to Jen as long as they're talking about him because she actually looks at her and smugly answers, "Yeah. Yeah, I did." Jen says, "Congratulations, I am so proud of you," and smiles quite nicely and sincerely at him. Aw. "Well, thank you!" beams Dawson. "So how does it feel to be the star of an award-winning film?" and, okay, it's all well and good to crow a little when you get something like this, but take it down a notch, Dawson, because there is such a thing as modesty, and you'd do well to at least learn how to fake it. Jen says, "An honour. Although time, I would like to request that you extend my dialogue beyond 'help' and 'aaahhh'." Dawson says, "It's a deal."