Well well well. Here we are -- together again for the very last time. Before we begin, my thanks to Wing Chun, for manning the Not! Line with grace and élan all these years and for writing rings around me; to Jessica for saving my stomach lining by stepping in to cover the show; and to all of you -- whether you joined up in the Dawson's Wrap days or you just got here, we appreciate your support. May lemon-flavored chewable Maalox smile upon you all the rest of your days.
Now let's get this over with.
We kick off with a self-congratulatory montage of scenes we will see in the series finale…except that, typically, it contains scenes that we totally didn't see in the series finale, at all, like Joey finding the engagement ring in Jeremy Sisto's dresser. I will take that as a shout-out -- the final annoying Desktopping of a plot point we should have seen onscreen. Aw, writers. [sniff] You shouldn't have! No, seriously. You shouldn't have.
Aaaaanyway. Tonight's WB presentation is intended for masochists and people who hate cereal. No previouslys, but let me sum up what's happened to date: [Eye-roll.] Okay, let's begin. We fade up in the Sanctum Pseudawsonorum. How do I know? The E.T. poster. Okay, I don't know if any of you guys watch the CHiPs reruns on TBS in the middle of the night, but I saw one recently from 1982 where this little girl with scary Brooke Shields eyebrows is basically hallucinating alien spaceships, and there's a scene where she's like, "The ETs are real, Ponch! You have to believe me!" and then her mom disappears or something, so she goes to live with Ponch, which is totally inappropriate and creepy, especially since Ponch just happens to have, like, a dozen stuffed animals lying around for whatever reason…what? Okay, okay. But you should definitely try to catch one of those reruns. You would not believe the package on Estrada. So anyhow, an indie-rock-looking kid named Colby and a girl who kind of looks like Rachael Leigh Cook (who? Exactly) are pontificating at each other in unrealistically polysyllabic Dawson-and-Joey fashion. I'll just save us all a bit of time here; it's a scene from The Creek, Dawson's TV show, which is pretty much a word-for-word, shot-for-shot recreation of everything we've already seen happen on DC. Like, ha ha. Whatever. So, Pseudawson is trying to determine whether Faux-ey has feelings for the unseen "Petey" (read: "Fake-cey") in this scene, and Faux-ey makes the "witty" meta statement that "your verbal deconstruction of teen angst is really outdated, Colby," and reassures him that there's nothing between her and Fake-cey, he's Pseudawson's best friend, blah. The girl playing Faux-ey actually has the patented Joey Behind-The-Ears Hair Tuck down pretty well.
Pseudawson isn't really buying it, and we cross-fade to a shot from behind Joey "If You Mean Stephen King's IT, Maybe -- What's With The Clown Hair, Girlfriend?" Potter's gigantic TV to see Joey herself, curled up on a fab couch from the West Elm catalog in her gigantic "New York" apartment. She's sipping wine and peering intently at the show through her prop reading glasses. She's totally engrossed, even though what's happening on the show happened to her, so it's not like she doesn't know what's . On The Creek, "we're just friends" / "are you sure?" / "yes, we fight all the time, it's nothing" / "that's what I was afraid of" blither from Faux-ey and Pseudawson before they replicate the ceiling-cam pretending-to-go-sleep shot we've seen so many times. As the show fades to credits -- which even use the same font as DC -- Jeremy "Creepy Jesus" Sisto mutters, "Thank God that's over." Word, Our Savior. Word. Joey snarks at him, and he clicks off the TV and grumps that The Creek is "like bad airplane food," adding that the "teen hyperbole" is "hard on the stomach." Yeah. Why don't you pull up a chair and tell me about it, buddy? Sisto goes on to slam the writers for sitting around with a thesaurus, thinking up "four-syllable ways to abuse the English language." Again, amen, but if the writers think that poking fun at themselves now excuses them for all the malapropisms, weak metaphors, bludgeoning of "solace," and all-around crap writing of the last five years, they can think again. Joey claims that she only watches it to torture him. Product-placement of bottled water; more blather in the "who talks like that?" vein; exposition about Joey's job (she's a junior editor, who in order to live in an apartment that size must supplement her income by robbing banks on weekends) and the fact that Sisto is a writer, that's how they met, blah bling blooey. Katie Holmes needs to consult an acting coach about how to do convincing stage business with glasses, because nobody who really wears them 1) handles them like that or 2) wears them that far down on their noses, and it's distracting me.
More defensiveness from Joey about liking "a teen soap -- so what?" "The way it possesses" her is what frightens Sisto. Another meta reference, and then Joey claims to have an "emotional connection to" the show that he wouldn't understand. I don't get that -- does he not know already that Faux-ey is based on her? Sisto makes fun of it some more, especially the love triangle part: "Find out week as we continue to beat a dead dog all the way into syndication!" See? My point, writers. The expression is "dead horse," for God's sack. How can you "abuse" the English language if you don't even have a speaking relationship with it? Joey says she thinks that, subconsciously, Sisto likes the show just as much as she does. Sisto responds that that sounds like Faux-ey on the show. "How dare you?" Joey mock-glares at him. Sisto grabs the manuscript out of her hands and mauls her for about a week as a Snuffy-Walden-esque guitar mutters in the background, "Get on with it." Then Joey interrupts and asks all worriedly, "Do you really think I sound like her?"
Credits. A cat furtively approaches Paula Cole's bedside, leaps up onto the pillow beside her, and steals her breath.
In L.A., it's all Hollywood hectic at The Creek HQ. Dawson "Forehead: Reloaded" Leery strides down a hall, an assistant snapping at his heels about "network notes" -- namely, that "they did not clear 'masturbate' as acceptable dialogue." What euphemism is Dawson to use instead? "They suggested 'walking your dog.'" Dawson whatevers, "'Walking your dog'?" It's one thing to think it's a stupid euphemism, because, well, it is a stupid euphemism. It's another thing not to remember that it's your stupid euphemism, "writers." Blech. Anyway, yeah, ha ha, moving on to a reference to an actor on the show not knowing that his character is coming out of the closet, and "he's going to lose it!" Oh, all right: Hee! I'll take any dig at Kerr Smith, even if it's clumsy. Dawson escapes from the assistant and into the writers' room, which we enter in medias debate with one guy grousing, "They're soulmates, they have to end up together." Oh, barf. Another guy metas that that's all well and good, but "not in the first season, you got nowhere to go after that." A guy who looks like Andy Richter's cousin brings Dawson up to speed, and a woman at the table argues that if Faux-ey chooses Fake-cey, "it will break convention and surprise the audience." "Surprise, not satisfy," the first writer argues, and uses the word "soulmate" again: "It's destiny!" Richter, claiming that the show is about breaking convention (bwa! Pull the other one, Williamson), wants to discard the "notion of destiny and fate." The writers ask for Dawson's input. A long silence as he furrows his gigantic brow. "I think you guys are onto something," he finally non-answers before grabbing a couple of props and bolting from the room in a big old Hollywood hurry. Out in the hall, more exposition business with the assistant about the wedding and blowing off a woman named Rebecca and late for editing and bleh.
Awwwww yeah. Cut to a road in Capeside, where Jack "The Ballad Of Reading I'm-Not-Gay-ol" McPhee is zipping along in a red convertible with the music blasting. Sirens sound behind him, and who should pull him over but Sheriff "You Dirty" Doug Witter. Kerr Smith pulls over niiiiice and slow to produce-place the car, and you'd better believe he parks it straight. Doug swaggers up to Jack's car, and we get some porn-esque banter about issuing citations and attempting to bribe a public official before Doug lays a smooch on Jack. While that development did earn a small "ha!" from me, a couple of thoughts. First of all, it annoys me that, after all of Pacey's homosexist "neat = gay" haranguing of Doug over the years, Doug did in fact wind up gay; that stereotype is just so tired and lame. Second of all, if you freeze-frame Kerr Smith just the right way after the kiss, he's got a serious grossed-out face going. Tool. Anyway, then Jack's all, "Thanks, honey," and Doug gets all miffy, and Jack tells him, "Dude, it's a deserted road -- chill," so apparently Doug is Having Some Issues about taking their relationship public. "Don't call me 'dude,' either," Doug sniffs. Dinner later blah, Jack will bring the handcuffs blah, and Doug double-meanings, "Jack. Slow down." As he walks back to the cruiser, Jack leans around to check out his ass. Heh.
After that no-tongue shui moment, we head to the Icehouse, now under the ownership of Pacey "For The Love Of Beer And Skittles" Witter, who is wiping down a table. Exposition about how the restaurant is doing well. The staff, by the way, all have Hawaiian shirts on. Snick. Then we have a useless and annoying bit of tedium in which a slumming and mis-Botoxed Virginia Madsen needs to consult with Pacey about menu designs. Said "consultation" involves boinking him in his office while pantily expositioning that she's married.
Cut to a classroom at Capeside High. On the blackboard is written, "BATTLE OF DA BARDS." Oh, dear. At the front of the room, a jockstrap is awkwardly reading a selection from Whitman that involves hot boy-on-boy action. Ghost of Mr. Peterson, I implore ye -- RISE! No such luck. The kids in the class smirk at one another, because apparently homosexuality is still embarrassing and squirmy. In…2008. The jockstrap trails off, and Jack, seated at a desk, asks if there's a problem. Jockstrap doesn't want to keep reading. Jack points out acerbically that the poem isn't finished. "No offense, Mr. McPhee, but this is a poem by a guy, about another guy. It's, like, a gay poem." Jack plays that off with a bad pun about the poem not having a sexual orientation, and I cherish a tiny hope that he's going to ream the kid but good and assign him the more prurient works of Catullus as homework, but instead he talks about how that poem and others like it got Whitman fired in spite of the poet's deep patriotism, like, what does that have to do with the price of fish? Typical of self-hating Kevin Williamson to change the subject instead of calling bullshit on a character's homophobia. God. The bell rings, and Jack tells the class to find a way to say in poetry what they're afraid to say -- they'll have to read them out loud, so they should show each other the same courtesy they didn't show Whitman today. RISE, PETERSON! RISE! Nope.
But we do see Jen "Heart Of Darkness" Lindley lurking in the back of the classroom during that last exchange, and as the class files out, she and Jack greet each other. Jen wheels in a baby carriage containing her daughter -- and Jack's goddaughter -- and Jack says "hey, gorgeous" to the baby, who…isn't, so much. Au Bon Pain gets a product placement. Jen compliments Jack on his mad teaching skillz. Banter about erasing their traumatic high school memories. Beaming. Plans for later. Reference to Jack and Doug as an "old married couple" after six months. Bitching from Jack about the closet, and how it's getting stuffy in there. Jen's all, "Oh, still?" and Jack shrugs that Doug is "a paranoid, closeted freak…but he's my paranoid, closeted freak." Girl, please.
Casa Leery. Dawson enters. Gale "Book 'Im, Tan-O" Leery runs out to hug him and call him "handsome" without a hint of irony and ask how he's doing. Dawson's tired from the flight and has to knock off five scenes by the day, and he still doesn't have an ending for the season finale. Exposition about Gale remarrying. You know, good for her and all, but it's really too bad they couldn't exhume The Flash for the finale -- his overacting always cracked me up. Then Lily too-cutes, "Dawson!" and runs down the stairs to hug him. She tells him that she just got Annie Hall on DVD, and does he want to watch it with her? "Sure, go set it up," he says. Beek acts kind of sweet with the kid, actually, and it's nice to see that one sibling in that family has passable taste in directors, but…as Dawson raised-eyebrows to Gale, "Annie Hall?" For real. Annie Hall seems a little mature for a seven-year-old.
Upstairs, the Sanctum is festooned with The Creek posters, framed cover stories about everyone's least favorite blunderkind, and black-and-white pictures of the gang from Dawson's photog period. The boat shelving that Demian admires is still there, as is that dork-o-rama director's chair with Dawson's name painted on it. Dawson comes in and looks around broodily, then picks up a second-season-vintage picture of himself and Joey. The Flute Of Oh God, Here We Go Again tootles a warning.
Nighttime. It's raining. At the Icehouse, Pacey schmoozes with customers. Then he looks outside, and we go to IT-Cam Slo-Mo as Joey comes up the front walk. Pacey watches her and breaks into a big old grin, and as she folds her umbrella and comes inside, he rushes her and swoops her up into a revolving hug. Okay: Aw. He comments that she's "heavy," and she beams at him, "Watch it, Witter." Then he says something about how he thought she couldn't make it, probably in reference to the Sisto subplot that got chopped down to the bone, and Joey glosses it with, "Uh…long story." Pacey gives Joey a big introduction to the entire restaurant, and she gets a round of applause, for…coming back? To Capeside? I have no idea. Whatever. It's the IT. Joey looks around and enthuses at how this is "all yours," and Pacey self-deprecates that it's his, "the bank's, several family members'," and asks if she's hungry. She's starving. More hugging and "it's so good to see you"-ing, and Pacey says that "it's been way too long, Jo," and over his shoulder, we see him looking googly. She looks the same way over his shoulder, and then her face lights up when she sees…ew, Dawson. He's standing in the doorway with an icky "drop everything and worship me" look on his face. In response, Pacey and Joey look guilty, like, ew -- it's all ancient history, you three, so drop it already. Then Dawson has the grace to smile beneficently at them as we fade to commercial.
The cast says nice things about the crew. Katie Holmes gets choked up. So does Joshua Jackson.
Wing Chun: Not! Line.
Sars: It would have killed them to name the baby "Sarah"? Or "Tara"?
Wing Chun: Don't get me started.
Sars: Oh, crap, it's back on.
Shut up, Kate Hudson.
Back from the break, Jen and Jack turn up, and there's lots of hugging and squealing and smiling, and Pacey bellows, "Open bar for everybody!"
Fade to later, with the gang around a table full of beer bottles. Joey leans forward with her glass of wine and asks Jack if he remembers the time she painted him in the nude. Jen bursts out, "Oh, and you got excited and sprouted a woo--" Jack cuts her off before she can finish that thought, and Joey smirks, "Got a little more than I bargained for." Jack's all, whatever, it's just as well, and snorts, "Besides, Dawson would probably eventually have killed me for taking away his only soulmate, right?" It's clearly meant as a joke, and any other group of friends -- a group of friends with, say, any perspective at all -- would have laughed. This group greets it with an awkward silence and some embarrassed smiles. God, could all of you just GET OVER IT, please? Jack quickly changes the subject to what Audrey's up to these days; evidently she's touring Europe with John Mayer, and she has an "anti-Pacey" boyfriend, whatever that's supposed to mean (Joey tries to explain it, but it makes no sense, and nobody cares about Audrey anyway).
, Joey thanks Pacey for reopening the Icehouse; she didn't know how much she'd missed it. Pacey cracks that if her father hadn't burned the place down, "maybe it would still be yours," and despite the fact that that remark is a country mile more inappropriate than Jack's, it gets an appreciative groan from the table. Yeah, arson's hilarious. What is wrong with these people? Dawson laughs that he couldn't write this stuff if he tried. No comment. "How long has it been?" Joey needles Pacey, who answers, "Not long enough, apparently." Heh. Jen soggily asks Dawson, "Remember when I devirginized you?" AAAACK. The rest of the table is like, "Yeah…TMI, blondie," and Jack wisely decides that that's their cue to leave and slings Jen over his shoulder. Jen gurgles, "Hey, guys -- remember the time when my boyfriend knocked me up and left me to raise a baby on my own?" and then she breaks up laughing. Um…okay. When I first watched that scene, the bitterness of that line felt weird, and it feels even weirder and more misplaced given what we find out later, but I don't have the energy, so, whatever. The Tinkling Piano Of Life Didn't Turn Out Like We Thought It Would tells us we're supposed to consider that poignant, so poignant it is, then. Jack's all, "Okay, then, see you all tomorrow," but Jen stops him to tell them all that they're the best friends she's ever had in her whole life. Wow, Jen's had some assy friends, then. "I love you so much. That is all. Good night," she finishes grandly, and Jack keel-hauls her out of there.
The triangle is left alone. Pacey says he has to clean up, and Joey's going to head home; Dawson offers her a ride, but she'll walk, as it's not far and it'll sober her up. She hugs them both and takes her leave, and the guys watch her go. "My God, that woman's amazing," Pacey muses. All right…seriously? What's so amazing about her? She's not particularly smart, she's not particularly funny -- she's not particularly anything, except pretty, and Pacey and Dawson's respective obsessions with her say more about them than about any defining traits Joey might have. Pacey then tells Dawson that "that girl you cast on your show? Cannot hold a candle to her." Dawson shrugs, but says that he did "nail Petey, though. Perfect casting," and Pacey jokes that Fake-cey does have "the certain requisite roguish charm." Dawson observes him for a moment before saying condescendingly, "A lot's changed. You've changed." "Yeah, well, life happens," Pacey shrugs, and asks Dawson if he's happy. Dawson's not-really-an-answer is that he knows he should say he's happy, because otherwise he'll sound spoiled and ungrateful (yeah, go figure), but he hasn't actually given it much thought. In other words, he isn't happy, really. He turns the question around on Pacey, and Pacey shrugs again: "Oh, you know me -- I'd be miserable if I was happy." Dawson cocks a brow at him, but Pacey ducks any further discussion and says he'll finish cleaning up, and they share a long hug containing many manly back-slaps, and Pacey tells him it's good to see him. See you tomorrow, blah dee blah -- Pacey heads back into the kitchen, and Dawson stands there, gigantic brow furrowed thoughtfully.
At the Potter B&B, Jack crabs about having to change a diaper while Jen gobbles pills and tells him he's doing fine. As he messes around with the diaper bag, he finds a prescription bottle and asks Jen about it, and Jen lies that they belong to Grams, and she just keeps them around in case Grams forgets them. Jack expositions that he didn't know Grams still took painkillers: "She looks like she's in good health." "Looks can be deceiving that way, huh?" Jen smiles sadly. Okay, I never thought I'd say it, but…nice one, writers. Sincerely. Initially, I thought they'd set it up for Jen to OD on Vicodin and Grams to suffer a relapse or something, but now that I know the upshot of the plotline, it still works. Well done. Jack asks Jen if she ever wonders if she could survive without Grams: "You think you could really do this alone?" "I used to think I couldn't," Jen says absently, looking down at the baby, "but really, I don't feel that way anymore." Aw. Nice work by Michelle Williams here, too. Jen says that "it's really wonderful -- parenting," and she can't program her TiVo (shout-out?), but she can take care of a child. Jack tells her she's changed the most out of all of them. Well, except for Andie, who's a stripper in Milan now. Okay, not really, but they could have at least mentioned her even if Meredith Monroe wouldn't come back for the finale. Mentos residuals pay a pretty penny, I guess. Right, the episode. So, Jen responds that the change didn't come from her, but from Amy. Jack sighs, and wonders what he's doing in Capeside: "What sane gay man of this era moves back to a suburb?" Jen correctly diagnoses this as about Doug, not Capeside itself, and when Jack continues to grump about going back into a closet that's not even his, Jen says he needs to give Doug some time. Jack disagrees, saying it's not his fault his boyfriend "lives back in the Stone Age," and Jen understands that, but says that Doug is "so scared." "What's there to be scared of?" Good question, KERR. "Of what's real," Jen tells him. "It terrifies us, all of us," and yes, she's changed, but she didn't do so willingly. "And if you think that anything of any value comes at an easier price, you're wrong." That kind of doesn't make sense, but it sounds good, so let's just go with it. "Your wise sage superpowers have increased with motherhood," Jack snarks good-naturedly. "I think I might have to buy you a cape pretty soon." Jen appoints him her sidekick, her "Boy Wonder" (heh), and Jack smiles, "Any time," and kisses her hand.
Dawson works at his laptop in the Sanctum. Hearing intruder-y noises, he slams the laptop shut and sneaks over to the window, preparing to bean whomever might enter with it. Because it didn't cost three grand or anything. It's called "a seven iron," Dawson, and it's a lot cheaper. Fool. Anyway, as a newborn baby just telephoned to inform me, it's not a burglar -- it's Joey, falling drunkenly through the window and getting way too "look how drunk I am, tee hee" about the whole thing. Dawson's all, "You scared the hell out of me, freak show," and asks what she's doing there, and Joey starts to answer by saying that she got to the B&B and decided to just keep walking, and hey, did he know there's a McDonald's on blah blah blah my how Capeside has changed, blah blah blah too late to ring the bell so I climbed up the ladder blah blah blah fishcakes. It's worth noting that Dawson is sitting in front of his Mr. Brooks poster here. Aw -- Mr. Brooks. It's also worth noting that there's no damn way Gale would have left that ladder there for ten years. Anyway, Joey saw his light on and thought she'd climb in, and she hopes she didn't wake him, which she didn't -- he didn't get much alone time with her earlier, and he's excited to hear about New York and what she's up to "and…everything." Dawson does, to his credit, seem genuinely interested and not all melodramatically creepy, but Joey stares at him and then defers having to talk about Sisto for a few more minutes by pretending that she bruised herself tumbling through the window. God, grow up.
Icehouse. Pacey's locking up when Mr. Virginia Madsen and a few of his henchthugs show up to take it out of Pacey's ass. Pacey tries to talk his way out of a beating, which fails. Then he tries to Crouching Witter, Hidden Dragon his way out of it, and almost pulls it off, but that too fails. Then Mr. Madsen and his friends beat Pacey up.
Up in the Sanctum, Joey is telling Dawson about how she met Sisto. Dawson asks, relatively mildly, if it's serious, and Joey looks at her hands and stammers that it's at that point where it's either going to get serious or it isn't, but she doesn't know what's going to happen. What about him? Dawson is "absolutely, one hundred percent intensely committed to" his show…"and nothing else," which he says with an "I have no life" eye-roll that's kind of funny. Joey says sort of flirtatiously (ew) that "that's today -- it's not always going to be like that, Dawson." He's not complaining, he says, but then he essentially does exactly that, wondering what he's doing with his life and reminding us that he "wanted to be Spielberg." "Dreams aren't perfect, Dawson," Joey sighs. Especially not that one. "They come true, not free." "Nicely put," Dawson says, and Joey shrugs, "Someone famous said it." (That someone is Stephen Sondheim, if anyone's interested.) They stare at each other ruefully, and Dawson says, "I'm just so tired." Joey takes that as her cue to head home, but he says he meant "in general." Still, she says, it's late and she should go, so he offers to drive her, but as they both get up, he busts out a huge yawn and says, "On second thought, no, I won't," and points at his bed: "Go to sleep." Joey, incredulously: "What?" Dawson chuckles, "You know the drill -- that's your side, that's mine. Lie down and go to sleep." Joey laughingly protests (too much, methinks) that she can't, but Dawson points out that she already climbed through the window: "It's only fitting, wouldn't you say?" Joey smiles. Dawson adds, "No one's pining away for each other or masking their feelings, so just sleep for sleep's sake." "Works for me," Joey chirps too-brightly. "We are adults." Again, no comment. Both of them hop under the covers fully dressed. Shot of Joey, looking weirded out; shot of Dawson, directing an inscrutable stare at the back of Joey's head; ululating of alterna-testicle. "Good night, Dawson." "Good night, Joey." Shot of Joey looking even more weirded out. Shot of Dawson looking…well, stuffed up, actually. Pan up to the familiar ceiling-cam shot of them brooding to themselves in bed together.
That's it for me -- Wing Chun's got it from here. Mornin', Sam.
Mornin', Ralph. Fade up on Joey and Dawson, saying their vows at an outdoor wedding. That this scene is clearly a dream sequence from the very second it starts proves (a) once again, how creatively bankrupt Kevin Williamson is -- that Williamson can't find any way to communicate Dawson's inner thoughts other than by taking them completely literally and turning them into a not-at-all dreamlike dream; and (b) The WB really, really loves putting dream sequences in their promos to make you think the events of the dream sequence are actually going to happen in the episode. Anyway. Joey and Dawson are holding each other's hands, and of course Joey's wedding dress has freaking spaghetti straps, and of course her posture is horrendous, and of course I now have to recap a recap. Joey: "There's so much, Dawson. So many good times and bad. When I loved you, you loved Jen. When you loved me, I needed to be on my own. So I left you for Jack. And then he realized he was gay." Dawson: "And then I convinced you to turn your dad in for trafficking cocaine, and you said you'd never speak to me again." Joey: "But I did. I offered myself to you at that party after you crashed your dad's boat." Dawson: "And I refused...for some reason." Wing Chun: "That reason being because YOU ARE GAY." Dawson: "And so you fell for Pacey." Wing Chun: "In large part because he's straight." Joey: "And years passed, and finally here we are, saying 'I do.' The way it should be -- the only way it can be, for star-crossed, ill-fated soulmates. So I do." Dawson: "I do, too." Joey smiles. James Van Der Beek clenches his jaw, pictures John Wesley Shipp, and grabs Joey's face, leaning in for a totally convincing heterosexual kiss of the kind I'm totally sure he lays on his female fiancée, like, all the time. The crowd applauds. Dawson and Joey gaze at each other and smile, and as they turn to face the crowd, the shot changes, and we're looking at "Colby" and "Sam" in place of Dawson and Joey, and some guy yells, "Cut!"
Dawson wakes up with a start, and now we know that he is just as creatively bankrupt as Kevin Williamson, if he's even prepared to crib from his subconscious for trite-ass storylines for his moronic show. Anyway, Dawson -- his hair still maintaining its carpet-like nap, even after a full night's sleep -- glances around the bedroom before his eyes alight on a note on the pillow beside him: "See ya later Joey." Nice punctuation from the alleged editor, there. Dawson gazes at the note with faint amusement, or something, and then we get another fucking straight-over-Dawson's-bed shot, like I haven't already seen enough of those to last me a lifetime in the last day. Dawson -- alone again, naturally. It just feels right, doesn't it?
Jack and Sheriff Doug jog through the strangely yellow grass. Doug tells Jack he booked them a room at some lodge in some undisclosed location so they could go away the weekend. Jack is not psyched. Doug notices, and calls him on it. Jack passive-aggressively asks whether Doug thinks that's "what [they] need right now -- another weekend away from Capeside?" At least you have a choice, jackass; I would have enjoyed another weekend away from Capeside, but here I am. They start walking up a bridge (?) to what I assume is Jack's house (…? I don't actually care). Doug snits, "I'm sorry I made the mistake of planning something nice for us." Jack tries to backpedal, saying he appreciates it, but that he'd prefer hanging out in town. Doug snaps, "Look, you knew when we started seeing each other that I wasn't ready for all of Capeside to know my business." Jack snaps back that that was six months ago: "You know, we do live in a post-Will & Grace world. Do you really think people care who [sic] you sleep with?" First of all, the only thing we in the post-Will & Grace world have learned from it is that stunt-casting is lame, and that fag hags can get married while their gay friends will be constantly disappointed in their romantic lives. Second of all, every time I think that the cause of gay acceptance has made any significant strides, all I have to do is read the letters page in People and realize that there is a large chunk of America that thinks Rosie O'Donnell is immoral. And third, shut up, Jack. If you can't hack dating a closeted man, don't date one, but don't turn it around on Doug to make it seem like his legitimate feelings are such a hassle to you.
Anyway, Doug says he does think people care whom he sleeps with. Jack gets even more hostile, spitting, "Why do you care what anybody thinks, anyway? I mean, your family knows; they have no problem with it. Pacey knows; he couldn't be happier." Doug: "That's because Pacey gets the last laugh." Jack, in the snidest, most contemptuous tone imaginable: "No, it's because Pacey loves you, and so do I." Yeah, that's convincing, Snappy Gilmore. In fact, I'll bet he'd believe it even more if you added, "and so do I, BITCH." The last word's already implied anyway. Jack continues complaining that it "really sucks" to have to keep spending weekends away from their backwater burg with his hot boyfriend -- yeah, that's fucking rough. Jack winds it up by complaining that it's like they're having an illicit affair, and Doug's face gets hard so he can verbally punch Jack back: "Not all of us were fags at fifteen, Jack. It's not so easy for some of us." As soon as he's said it, Doug recoils like he regrets it. Kerr Smith aims for "stunned," but lands somewhere closer to "told the deli is all out of egg salad, and would he like tuna instead." Jack shakes his head all, "Uh uh, not cool," and breathes that he can't believe Doug just said that. Doug apologizes quietly, and Jack says Doug's not sorry: "You know what the difference is between you and me, Doug? You were a fag at fifteen. You just haven't stopped hating yourself for it." Doug tries to cry. I'm going to assume that line was written by this Maggie Friedman and aimed at Kevin Williamson, because damn. I've heard of self-hating gay men, but he makes Tom Cruise look like the grand marshal of the Pride parade. Not that Tom Cruise is gay, because he totally isn't. In fact, I didn't even mention Tom Cruise in this paragraph. That's a typo. It's supposed to say "Rip Taylor."
On to the wedding everyone has supposedly gathered to attend. Gale and some extra...oh, I guess that's her new husband. ["Who looks like he was cloned from her DNA. The hell? -- Sars] Anyway, they cut the absolutely gorgeous wedding cake. Mmmmm, cake. Everyone claps. Including me. Because that cake is hot. Gale kisses Mr. Extra. Dawson hugs Gale and says he's happy for her, "And Dad would be, too." Um. Well. You say he "would" be, meaning that he would if he were alive. And were he alive, he probably wouldn't be "proud" that his wife was marrying some other dude. So it's a very strange thing to say. But whatever.
Capeside's finest jazz combo -- I assume -- plays some smooth tunes, and guests dance. It's like two in the afternoon, by the way. Pacey, glass of red wine in hand, strolls through the party with huge Ray-Ban sunglasses on. Virginia Madsen -- packed into a really ugly celery-coloured sleeveless top that's at least one size too small for her -- shoots a look at him over her shoulder and makes this "let's hook up later and fuck" motion at him; the camera closes in so that we can see her tattoo, but it still really just looks like a polio-vaccination scar. Pacey doesn't react, and walks on.
Cut to Jen and her incredibly terrible hair, furtively taking a pill out of her purse. Pacey rolls on up. Jen makes this guilty little startled squeak. Pacey greets her by asking what she's taking, as though that were an appropriate question. Jen smoothly replies, "Oh, you caught me medicating. I'm an anxiety-ridden mother. They help." She pops her pill -- I mean, literally, tosses it in her mouth with this exaggerated neck jerk instead of just putting it on her tongue like a normal person; what is this, a silent movie? -- and Pacey hands her his glass so she can down the pill with a swallow of wine. As she swallows (which is, like, an eight-second process so that the director is totally sure we all notice that JEN TOOK A PILL OKAY A PILL DID YOU SEE THE PILL SHE TOOK), Pacey blandly asks if he can borrow one; he removes his sunglasses and says he could "really use it today." Jen takes a break from SWALLOWING HER PILL THAT PILL SHE TOOK I WONDER WHAT FOR to notice Pacey's slightly rough face. Oh no. Oh yes. Pacey glances back over at Virginia Madsen and groans. Okay.
Later. More dancing. This woman chases this kid across the dance floor, and for a second I think it's Bessie chasing Alexander, except I guess Alexander would be ten or eleven now, and this kid is younger than that. Gale and Mr. Extra dance. Joey and Pacey also dance, Joey asking whether he's going to tell her how he got that shiner. Pacey: "Let's just say that mistakes were made." He stares at her real hard. Joey asks "what's going on," and Pacey pensively replies, "'What's going on.' What's going on is that I forget how much fun I have when I'm with you, and it's really, really nice to be reminded." In the shot where we mostly see the back of her head and just the side of her cheek, Joey grins, but when we cut to a shot of her from the front, she's looking all grim. Whatever.
Jen and Dawson stumble up, and Jen -- a little giddy AND MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE OF THAT PILL SHE TOOK REMEMBER THE PILL -- cuts in, asking to switch partners because Dawson won't let her lead. Joey and Pacey acquiesce, Joey greeting Dawson with this really fond, indulgent "heeeeeey." Dawson grins that Joey left in a hurry that morning, and he has never looked more like Guy Smiley than he does at this moment. Joey says she had to get ready, besides which Dawson was snoring, besides which some blah about acid flashbacks. Dawson smirks that he's glad she's nervous, too. Joey's all, "Huh?" and Dawson says she babbles when she's nervous. Joey gets faux-indignant, asking whether this is "Rag On Joey Potter Day." Who else was ragging on you, bitch? Okay, other than me. And Sars. And Jessica (soon). Shut up, Joey. Dawson: "I like that you ramble when you're nervous. I like that I know you ramble when you're nervous. I like that I still make you nervous." Yeah, well, you probably make gerbils nervous, too; it's not necessarily a compliment. Joey stares. Dawson smirks, because James Van Der Beek is not a very good actor.
Before Joey can say anything in response, Jen comes stumbling back over, squealing AND ALL LIKE HYPER AND STUFF LIKE MAYBE THAT'S WHAT THAT PILL DID TO HER THAT SHE TOOK EARLIER that she wants to trade partners again because Pacey keeps stepping on her toes. Joey goes back to Pacey (gee, that's a recurring theme in this episode), who murmurs, "It's a conspiracy. New shoes." "New shoes," Joey agrees. "Must be the new shoes." It's the pill! I mean, "shoes"! Although that "new shoes" line (the first time) really sums up the difference between Dawson and Pacey, and why Pacey is better. When Joey is dancing with Pacey, he's telling her how much fun she is and making jokes (however lame), whereas Dawson's being all intense and needy (with the pointing out that she left early) and creepy ("I like that I still make you nervous"? Okay, Paul Bernardo). Pacey's natural behaviour is to make Joey comfortable. Dawson's natural behaviour is to make Joey anxious. Pacey is fun. Dawson is a drip. Anyway. Pacey and Joey dance. Virginia Madsen stomps up to the edge of the dance floor in her uuuuuuuuuuugly shirt and stares at Pacey. Joey notices her and tells Pacey, "I think we might have an audience." Pacey looks at Virginia Madsen and mutters, "Oh boy." Joey says it's good to know some things never change: "Still breaking hearts?" Pacey: "Yeah -- her heart, my jaw." Joey says it's all starting to make sense. Virginia Madsen folds her arms and fumes. Pacey asks Joey if she wants to help him out. She asks how. Pacey leans forward and plants a big smooch on Joey, dipping her backwards and everything. It's the kiss we saw in the promos, and it's pretty good. Virginia Madsen blinks a few times, and then pouts off. Joey looks stricken. Pacey breathes, "Thanks," and kisses Joey softly on the cheek. Joey wets her pants, if you know what I'm saying. Wait, that wasn't subtle. So you do know what I'm saying.
Suddenly, there's a commotion behind them; Jen is flat on her back on the dance floor, people starting to gather around her. Dawson squeals that they were dancing and she collapsed. Jack runs over. Grams hurries over, taking Jen's hand, and tells someone to get Jen's bag: "She needs her pills." Pacey says he just saw her take one. Grams says that "this should not be happening." Jack tears over, and Grams tells him to get an ambulance. Dawson gets up, asking what's wrong with Jen, and Grams ignores him (rightly), telling him to hurry the hell up. Jack asks Grams what's wrong. Grams does not reply that what is wrong at the moment is that about a dozen people are crowded around Jen, keeping her from getting a breath of air; instead, she says that Jen is sick. Jack says that Jen is fine, and Grams says she isn't fine, and repeats that she's very sick: "It's her heart." The camera pans around everyone's worried faces, starting with Gale, who makes this absolutely awesome face, like, "Thanks a lot for fucking up my wedding, HEART GIRL." Everyone stares at Jen real hard.
Hospital. Medical personnel bustle around Jen, who's gowned and lying on a bed, out cold, an oxygen mask over her face. At least now she has an excuse for having assy-looking hair.
Dawson stomps around the waiting area, bitching, "It's been hours. Why won't they talk to us? What's going on?" Um. "Us"? The fuck do you have to do with it, Dawson? I don't think patients' tenth-grade boyfriends really have much standing when it comes to being informed about said patients' care. Grams -- Jen's only blood relative present, let us not forget -- blahs something about the doctors monitoring Jen. Joey asks Grams, "What's wrong with her? You know, don't you?" Okay, seriously, I get that they're worried, and social etiquette is sometimes forgotten in times of stress, but if they've really been sitting there for "hours," they should have been acclimated to the situation enough to behave like thinking adults and not assholes. "You know, don't you"? Shut the fuck up, Joey -- it's not Grams's fucking job to tell you shit about Jen's physical health, particularly if you both live in New York and yet are not on good enough terms as friends for her to have volunteered the information herself. "Shut up"s all around. Grams (who has a lisp, suddenly, like she burnt her tongue on some hot tea) tells Joey that Jen has a heart abnormality; she's had it her whole life, but it wasn't detected until she got pregnant. Grams adds that it's not serious, and that Jen will be more embarrassed than anything else when she wakes up. Joey pretends to care about Jen, and Grams reassures her.
A doctor shows up to give Grams some news, and when she gets up to speak to him, Joey accusingly glares, "Jack, did you know anything about this?" Jack sucks his cheeks and says he didn't. Pacey asks if Jen has a heart murmur or what, like he's surrounded by doctors or something, and says it sounds serious. (It sounds like horseshit to me, but I'm not a doctor either.)
Grams returns and says that Jen is stable, and that she fainted from a palpitation caused by her medication; there's nothing more that they can do, so they should get lost. Dawson, Joey, and Pacey all pretend to care some more -- Joey's pretending so hard that she can't even remember to STAND UP STRAIGHT. Dawson presses Grams to assure him again that Jen will be all right, and Grams duly reassures him, before telling them again to go home, and heading down the hall to call Jen's parents. Everyone stares.
Cut to the love triangle: Now On Wheels! Pacey drives; Dawson has shotgun, and Joey, appropriately enough, is riding bitch in the back. Blah, Joey's nervous. Blah blah, Dr. Leery, Boy Cardiologist is sure Jen will be fine, and pronounces, "The best thing we can do is just be ourselves -- carry on in our typical, usual, distracting --" "-- sordid love-triangle ways," Pacey concludes. Joey makes a grapefruit face, and Dawson exhales loudly, smirking, "Leave it up to you to say the most inappropriate thing possible." Oh, please. That is the most inappropriate thing Dawson can think of that Pacey could say? That's not even gallows humour! I can think of many far more inappropriate things. "Guess Amy's going to be in a Party of One, soon, am I right?" Or "And here I thought the most abnormal thing about Jen was her terrible haircut!" Or "Man, when I heard the awful news, I felt like I'd been kicked square in the ventricles!" Or a simple shaking of the fist, accompanied by, "Why aorta..." Anyway. We all know Dawson is as fragile as a porcelain kitty, so I guess it makes sense for him to clutch his pearls at Pacey's rather innocuous remark. Pacey snerks that he's dependable like that, and Joey sniffs, "So very not funny." Her cell phone rings, and all her indignation is forgotten as she answers it and promptly babies, "Hi, Christopher!" Dawson blahs some unfunny crap about the triangle becoming a square, but it's not a joke or even much of an observation, so I won't recap it.
Hospital. Jack paces the hall. A door opens and Grams, accompanied by a doctor, steps out into the hall, sniffling. She spots Jack and they walk toward each other; Grams shakes her head and sobs. Jack hugs her. The doctor stands by, looking useless and failing to earn his SAG card.
Jen's hospital room. Jen's arms are crossed over her chest in a posture befitting her vague and Victorian malady. Jack enters. Careful, Jack! If you aren't properly anointed with Balsam's Specific Tincture, you also might contract a case of Galloping Rickets, or Whooping Gout, or (God forbid) Splenetic Vapors! Jen sighs loudly as Jack enters, and exhales, "Hey, you." Kerr Smith tries to look sad. Jen asks what he's doing there, since it's so late: "Doesn't this hospital have visitation hours?" Jack says he flirted with the nurse to bend the rules, and that Jack can be charming when he wants to be. That remains to be seen. Jen asks what happens when the nurse finds out that Jack's gay. Jack distractedly tells her that it was a male nurse. Jen: "Cute?" Jack gets up on the bed and huskily says, "I would love nothing more than to engage in our patented, meaningless, good-humoured, Jack/Jen fag hag banter, but first I was kind of wondering -- I mean, since you're lying here in this hospital bed and you're hooked up to all these machines -- how come? How come you didn't tell me, 'cause I thought I was your best friend." Jen's only been dying for about four hours and she's already mastered the philosophical, fond smile of The Bravely Dying Woman Who Knows The End Is Nigh And Thus Speaks Only Profound Truth. She replies, "Because I didn't want you to be worried. I was already worried enough. Because I thought that if I pretended it didn't exist, it would just go away. Because I like it -- I like our patented, meaningless, fag hag banter. And because I was scared if I said it out loud it would be true -- because I was just...I was just scared. 'Cause I was an idiot." Jack agrees that she is an idiot, and tells her he could have handled the news, and helped her handle it. Jen murmurs that she needs Jack. Yeah -- she needs him to run up and down the hall when she finally conks out, screaming, "I don't understand why she has to have this pain. All she has to do is hold out until ten, and IT'S PAST TEN! My fag hag is in pain, can't you understand that! GIVE MY FAG HAG THE SHOT!"
Jack asks her, "straight up" (God knows that's how he prefers to get all his news), how bad her condition is. Jen carefully enunciates, "Decreased left ventricular systolic function. It's a hole, blood not pumping right to my heart; it's causing a lot of problems in my lungs. It's called pulmonary congestion." I could look this stuff up and see if it's a real thing and how fatal and untreatable it is, but the writers didn't care enough to make it seem legit, so why should I help their asses? Jack asks what can be done to fix Jen's bad heart, like treatment or surgery. But, like I said, Jen's got a Victorian bad heart, and surgery is just a gleam in a barber's eye, I guess. Jen says there's nothing to be done: "I have been doing everything. And at first, the odds were good. But you know me and odds." What? Jack asks about a specialist. Jen says she's seen specialists, and that she's sorry to lay all this on him like this, but that she thought she could get to Capeside and back "in one piece." The glycerin is flowing freely down Jack's cheeks by now, and he leans down, clutching Jen's hand. Jen gasps, "I've been trying to get okay with this, but I can't do it alone anymore. 'Cause I am gonna die, Jack." She says it like her dying is something he's been waiting impatiently for, and she's finally about to get around to it, like, "I am going to take out the garbage and die, just get off my back!" Jack sniffles. To her Declaration Of Intent To Die, Jen adds, "And like everything else in my life, I don't really know how to do that. But I'd like to not screw it up. I'd like it to be something that I get right for once." Well, it's good that, since the writers have had Jen screw up every relationship she's ever had, her education (as far as we know), her career (probably), her ability to please her parents and grandparent, and GALE'S WEDDING, dying is the one thing Jen's going to get to do as a total pro. Jeez. Jack murmurs that he's there to do anything she wants him to do. Jen says that, right now, she wants him to get into bed with her, tell her about the cute nurse, and make her forget everything she just told him. She feebly raises an arm as an ovary -- not subtly, as tradition dictates -- whines, "Say goodnight, not goodbye." Jack gets into bed and LEANS HIS GIANT HEAD ON BAD HEART GIRL'S CHEST as he sniffles, "His name is Max." Jen, gazing over Jack's head: "I like 'Max.'" Jack: "He has a goatee." Jen, bemused: "Hmm. We can work on that."
Oh, sweet montage. No one can carry me painlessly into the commercial -- and the end of the episode -- like you. Give it to me. Oh yeah. Pacey drinks at the Icehouse. Jack walks up and shakes his head.
At the PB&B, Jack struggles to keep it together as he breaks the news to Bessie and Joey, who -- speaking of inappropriate, as she was earlier -- makes this really underblown "dang, that sucks" moue with her mouth. Way to pretend to care, Joey.
Dawson puts down the phone at Leery Manor. Behind him, a berobed Gale stands, clutching the shoulders of a pyjama-clad Lily, who I guess paused her Last Tango in Paris DVD to come get the scoop. Dawson furrows his brow; Gale gasps, a bit too stagily.
At the hospital, Grams and Jen play with Jen's ugly-ass baby.
Leery Manor. The door opens, and Joey is standing there, trying really hard to look like she gives one half shit about Jen's heart. She barrels forward into Dawson's arms. James Van Der Beek imagines that he's hugging a smaller, more breast-intensive John Wesley Shipp, and his eyes roll back in ecstasy. So the last shot of my long and storied Dawson's Creek recapping career is of Joey's back, a wide swath of flesh showing (of course) over the red waistband of her panties. Nice thong, trash.