Shout-outs this week to the Biscuit, Little E, Ernie, and Wing.
Things finally get underway this week with a dolly-cam shot of the Fearsome Foursome -- Dawson, Joey, Pacey, and Jen -- posing beneath that giant neon WB sign, and an endless recap sequence of scenes from last season with an inane voice-over blathering on about "last season's instant phenomenon" and "four lives discovering the world around them" and which more or less serves as a pretentious-dialogue-and-bad-hair Cliff's Notes for anyone who missed the episodes. Then comes a healthy portion of brand new pretentious dialogue and bad hair in the form of scenes from the coming season. Just as the words "for god's sweet sake get on with it" form on my lips, the WB posts its usual "not recommended for younger viewers" disclaimer, and the show begins.
Establishing shot of Chez Leery, with some estrogen-sodden Lilith Fair refugee crooning "say goodnight, not goodbye, you will never leave my heart" in the background. The camera pans up to the window of Dawson's bedroom, with the silhouette of Dawson and Joey kissing visible behind the shade. Inside the bedroom, Dawson "Cereal Box Head" Leery and Joey "Method Actress" Potter, still smooching away, complete with lip-smacking sound effects. Memo to sound guy: turn down the mix on the lip mic. Thank you. Okay, then Joey says, "Was that...?" and Dawson says, "...a kiss," and they stare at each other for a moment, and Joey smiles and says, "You kissed me," and Dawson sort of smirks and says, "Yeah," except he actually says something more like "yeeunnh," and let me take this opportunity to observe that James van der Beek's acting during this scene bears a remarkable resemblance to someone who has just taken about seventeen bong hits. They almost start to kiss again but Dawson says, "So..." and Joey says, "So..." and Dawson says, "Well..." and Joey, already getting defensive, says, "'Well' what?" and Dawson says, "Well, that was a kiss," as though we hadn't already established that to the satisfaction of everyone on earth including several people who dwell underneath large boulders, and then Joey says, "I'll say," and they touch foreheads, and I half expect their foreheads to light up a la "E.T." in yet another reference to Dawson's tiresome bedroom shrine to Steven Spielberg, and then Dawson says, "So now what?" Any other 16-year-old boy with so much as a single active hormone would have gone for the bra and asked questions later, but not Mr. I-Want-Romance Frosted Flake Head. Anyhow, Joey gives Dawson a look and says, "I don't know," and cross-eyed Dawson says, "Me neither." Joey: "Maybe we could..." Dawson: "What?" Joey: "...forget it." Dawson: "No, you were going to say something, what were you going to say?" By now they've both moved over to sit down on Dawson's bed, and this blocking gives the audience a better view of Dawson's hair, which has been combed down into a proto-mullet-meets-Prince-Valiant 'do, and someone went way overboard with the Sun-In because his hair has gotten much blonder and looks like a bad wig. Joey: "Nothing, I mean, I don't know, I don't know what I was going to say."
Then Dawson says, "You were going to say we shouldn't have done that, I mean, that's what you're thinking, right?" and Joey gives him a look that would kill while Dawson stares pensively into the middle distance and she says, "Dawson, I don't have a thought in my head right now, but apparently that's what YOU'RE thinking, so," and she gets up to deliver one of her Joey bon mots about Dawson's suckiness and storm down the ladder and back to her house, and Dawson gets up too and says, "No, I..." and Joey cuts him off and says, "Look, let's sleep on it," at which point the previously mentioned single hormone finally kicks in and Dawson leers (get it? "Leers?" Dawson LEERY? Okay, forget it) at her and Joey says, "Not TOGETHER, I mean you in your bed and me in mine," and Dawson stammers, "Right, absolutely, obviously -- we'll sleep on it, and we'll wake up, and this'll all be a dream," like, excuse me, Dawson, but Spielberg did not direct "Dallas" so please spare us the Bobby Ewing reference. Joey naturally takes this personally: "Like it never happened?" Dawson gets confused: "Is that what you want?" Joey's defensiveness escalates: "Is that what YOU want?" Before he can answer, she snaps, "Fine. Poof. Didn't happen, Dawson," and heads for the door, but Dawson grabs her as she starts out the window and says, "Joey! Joey. Don't even think about climbing out that window," and instead of saying, "Actually, I planned on JUMPING out that window, you charmless oaf," she smiles happily as Dawson takes her face in his hands and they kiss again, and could the sound guy PLEASE turn down the mix on the lip mic?
The credits. Video-verite clowning around of cast members; painful caterwauling of Paula Cole; J.Crew wardrobe.
Morning in Capeside. Dave Matthews-wannabe band on soundtrack. Joey and Dawson awaken in their respective beds and stretch and hug their pillows and smile at the fond memory of last night's tonsil hockey match -- um, I mean, "romantic interlude." Joey apparently wears a Wonder Bra to bed. Cut to a man's naked shoulder -- looks promising, maybe someone got some last night, but no, the man rolls over and we see Dawson's dad Mitch "The Flash" Leery. Cut to Dawson's mom, Gale "Faithless Hussy" Leery, quite the morning-breath coquette in her satin Jaclyn-Smith nightie and her mussed-up ponytail with the so-called sexy tendrils hanging down, and she says "hi" and The Flash says, "Hi -- is everything okay?" and Gale says, "Mm hmm. I was just lying here, waiting," and The Flash asks, "Waiting...for what?" and Gale says, "Well...I don't have to be in until nine today, and of all the possible ways to spend a free morning" -- and she starts to swing a leg over The Flash -- "there's one idea that just kinda seems to stand out," and then she literally mounts The Flash and starts wiggling her big old child-bearing hips and trying to kiss him, and The Flash struggles weakly, and Gale says, "You can protest if you want, but resistance will only make the conquest that much sweeter," and can I ask who gave the Vicomte de Valmont a job as a dialogue editor on this show?
Gale kisses The Flash's chest as The Flash feebly reminds her that he has to shower because has a meeting or some pathetic excuse like that and Gale says, "That's okay, this act plays underwater too," and she gets about halfway to his groin with the kissing routine before Mitch gives her the whoa-Nellie, literally wrangling her off of him and saying, "Gale, Gale," and she starts to argue but The Flash gives her a look and Gale nods and says, "Shower, meeting," really grimly, and he says, "Yeah," and then we have a "heterosexual male refusing morning sex = trouble in paradise" moment of great foreboding as The Flash gets out of bed and Gale slumps back against her pillow. Fie ye, faithless hussy!
Shot of a tire going flat. Joey and Bessie "Sister Christian -- Not!" Potter get out of the truck and Bessie starts bitching about the truck and stuff always goes wrong with it, and Bessie has acquired a snazzy new soccer-mom haircut and a trim post-pregnancy figure this season, probably in order to distract us from the fact that, despite living in a town on Cape Cod, she has a Southern accent, and also her parents named her after a cow. Joey says, "Don't let it get you down," which sets off Bessie's radar and she says, "Your morning glow is highly suspicious -- how many cups of coffee did you have?" and Joey wants to know if a person "can't be in a good mood," and Bessie says, "A person can, but you? You're Miss Perma-Scowl." Ooooh, good comeback. Well, except for the good part. Then Bessie wants to know what Joey isn't telling her and Joey is doing her patented little disdainful "ecch" sound out of one side of her mouth and saying "nothing" as she gets ready to change the tire, and Bessie says, "Then what's with that LOOK," which she then describes as a "cheery yet sneaky 'I got lucky' look" and she asks where Joey was last night and Joey says "nowhere" and then guiltily she says "Dawson's" and excuse me, but they live on CAPE COD, and if last season started when they went back to school, and no time has ostensibly passed since the END of last season, that makes it November or thereabouts in Capeside, which means that Joey has NO business wearing a tank top because, well, they live on Cape Cod and it gets kind of cold. Okay, so Bessie tells Joey to "start talking" and then, speaking of "whatever," we cut to Dawson and Pacey The Monkey Boy at a beauty parlor, having a shampoo. Full-body, full-frontal WHATEVER. Pacey tells Dawson to "set the stage, I want details," and I actually want some details myself, like why these two are in a beauty salon wearing little lavender drape thingies, because I don't think we need quite that much subtext if you see what I mean, and Dawson says that "it's hard to explain...it was, in a word..." and then we cut back to Joey changing the tire and saying, "Hot. Extremely hot," (word count: three) and Bessie wants to know if it was a "peck on the cheek? Probing tongues? Fingers clawing at your neck?" Um, take it easy there, Bessie -- I don't know what kind of sex YOU'RE having, but that sounds like assault to me.
Cut back to Dawson and Pacey The Monkey Boy; Dawson says something about "no thingamajig involved" and tells PTMB to get his mind out of the gutter. Then Dawson describes the events of last night as "the sweetest, most romantic, [something I couldn't understand due to loud sounds of rinsing in the background], firework-y, waves crashing on the shore, beyond any movie I could ever imagine kiss," thus managing to hit every cliché in the book and make fun of himself at the same time, and also smiling that weird no-teeth smile that makes him look like the chick from the "Twilight Zone" movie who had no mouth. More back-and-forth cutting while Pacey and Bessie ask the Dastardly Duo if they plan to have sex, to which Joey responds by saying "don't go there." No, really -- she actually said that. Bessie asks about France. Cut back to Pacey expounding on how kisses change things, and what will Dawson do , and as they sit in front of a big mirror with hairdressers waving scissors around the backs of their heads but not doing any actual styling because Dawson has his hair cut with a Flow-Bee as seen on TV, Pacey refers to "years of gratuitous self-examination" on Dawson's part and says, "I mean, I thought you and Joey were gonna draw out this whole will-they-won't-they drama for at least another couple years, 'cause you know, Sam and Diane didn't get together for at least four seasons and Mulder and Scully, they haven't even kissed," thus referring to the show's eventual demise, because the source of any dramatic tension got flushed down the toilet as soon as Joey and Dawson's lips touched, and we only have a short time to wait before it turns into Melrose-By-The-Sea. Anyhow. Pacey is "inspired" by this turn of events because it means that "anything can happen" and that he "can score with high-quality chicks" like the cheerleader several chairs down from them at the salon. Dawson rolls his eyes a few times. Pacey tells his stylist that he needs "a new look," which I guess is supposed to explain the blonde hair. "Frost my tips or something," he tells her, and Dawson says skeptically, "Frost your tips?" and if this passes for humor, we have a long long season ahead of us, my friends. Oh, and Pacey, meet your right hand. Right hand, meet Pacey.
Then newly-frosted Pacey The Monkey Boy walks out to his dad's police cruiser and gets into it, presumably to drive it to school. As if. Pacey calls to the little blonde cheerleader in her little mini-dress and her little backpack, and since she has no interest in inter-species romance, she of course ignores him. Presumably while trying to loosen his seatbelt to make his raging hard-on a bit less uncomfortable, Pacey crashes his dad's police cruiser into the new girl in town's Saab convertible. The new girl, one Andie "Calista Flockhart Jr." McVee, freaks because she thinks Pacey is a police officer. Pacey rises to the occasion by impersonating a police officer. Wacky hijinks ensue in which Pacey calls Andie "Blondie" and also "Little Miss." Excuse me while I extinguish a cigarette in my eye.
Cut to school hallway. Dawson and Joey meet at Joey's locker and almost kiss again but don't, because Joey loses her nerve at the last second and starts making small talk. Then again, perhaps she felt so nauseated by Dawson's toupee-esque hair that the thought of kissing him made her gorge rise. If so, I can sympathize. Joey announces that she thinks she might have made "the biggest mistake of [her] life." Dawson's eyebrows, which could really really use some tweezing, like with that Ron Popeil weed-whacker thing, indicate confusion and dismay. Then she says she told her adviser that she wasn't going to France. See, HE thought she meant the KISS, but really she meant her TRIP. Awwww, how cute! Well, not really, but it would have been cute if it hadn't been stupid. Anyway, Dawson starts laughing with relief except it sounds like the laugh of a sociopath with tuberculosis, and then he says "wee hoo" or something to that effect and they hug. Then they have some light-hearted banter about her "staying in Capeside for some guy" who, Joey says, she will introduce Dawson to sometime "if [he's] lucky" -- again, dialogue that headed towards cute but took a wrong turn at stupid. Joey asks Dawson's opinion on her decision and he says, "Well, I'm relieved, I'm ecstatic, I'm psyched, I'm...aroused," which sort of grosses Joey out (once again, I can totally sympathize) and he tries to kiss her again and she ducks it AGAIN and wonders if they're making a big mistake and he says they'll be fine and they'll "just concentrate on the simple stuff" and she says "like what" and he says "like a date," and I say, "like, shut up." So does Joey, who sort of sneers "me and you, on a date?" and jokes that she has to stay in and watch TV because she heard that Luke Perry was back on "," but Dawson convinces her to go to a movie with him because "the Rialto [movie theater] is closing," as IF they wouldn't have to drive like forty miles to one of the THREE movie theaters on Cape Cod, one of which is a drive-in anyway and doesn't show movies in the off-season, and could someone PLEASE do some sort of research into Cape Cod climate and culture, because in addition to her tank top Joey also has short-shorts on? Anyhow. Joey asks him if "[he'll] still be aroused on Saturday night" and he says, "I think I can guarantee it, yeah," and the thought of James van der Beek sporting wood nearly causes me to lose consciousness, and they almost kiss again, but they don't.
Why don't they? Funny you should ask, but they are interrupted by Miss Piggy karate-chopping her way down the hall and shouting, "Hiiiii-YA!" Well, actually, it's Jen Lindley, and she only says, "Hi," but whatever. Anyway, Jen has her hair swept up in back to make us think she didn't cut it all off already, and she holds the straps of her backpack looking all shy, and she sways back and forth on her little cloven hooves, and as usual her little piggy face has squinched itself up in pre-cry mode. Did I mention that I find Jen's face somewhat porcine? Oh, I did, yeah. Dawson and Joey say "hi" back and Dawson says "how are you" and she pre-cryingly says, "Not great -- my grandpa died last night," and Dawson says, "Omigod, Jen, I'm so sorry," while Joey stands there seeing straight through this for the attention-getting ploy that it so blatantly is, because sad to say I have used it myself to get a boy's attention, but Joey feigns concern and says "how are you doing, how's your grandmother?" and Jen says, "She's okay -- actually, she's handling it better than me," as though that would be hard to do since Jen can't handle anything without whining and snuffling, and why didn't she just stay home from school in the first place?
Joey and Dawson want to know if they can do anything for her, and Jen says no, she thinks she'll just go home because she thought she'd "stick out the whole day" but that doesn't seem like such a great idea, especially since she totally must have seen Dawson and Joey almost-kissing for the last ten minutes, and Dawson turns to watch her go and Joey grudgingly says, "You should go see if she's okay," but neglects to add the crucial "but if you DO go after her I'll sulk about it for days" clause to that sentence, and he goes, and she plays with her hair and decides if she should start sulking now or wait until after they come back from commercial.
Exterior shot of Capeside High, which looks a lot like the exterior shot of the high school in "Sixteen Candles." Cut to Blond Monkey Boy in the hallway, bragging to two random guys about hoodwinking Andie. They give each other fives. Andie comes up behind BMB, overhears the whole conversation, and says, "Officer Pacey...you little scum." She threatens to turn him in; he says, "Now that's a conversation I'd love to hear, seeing as how my father is the town sheriff." Color me unimpressed with that rank-pulling comeback. Not to be dissuaded, Andie informs him with much finger-wagging that "I have been having major anxiety attacks, to the point of medication, since you pulled me over." Everyone who thinks Andie really needs to get out more, raise their hands. Then she starts yammering on about going to jail and becoming "a sex slave to some sadist named Bomber Bertha," and everyone who thinks Andie should stop watching "Reform School Girls" on the USA Network's Late Night Movie, raise their hands. Pacey more or less tells her to shut up. Then the cheerleader from before walks up to them and it seems that she and Andie know each other and Andie says "hey Kristy" and Pacey says "hey Kristy" also, but very awkwardly, and Pacey and Andie bicker some more and we have another unfunny reference to Pacey having had his tips frosted, and Pacey wants to know how Andie knows Kristy Livingstone ("I presume") and Andie tells Pacey that Kristy is a "homo sapien" and thus Pacey has no chance with Kristy, and excuse me, but who called that one? I did. Then in some weird blocking which has them, uh, pacing up and down the hallway and back and forth about five times, Pacey turns around again and walks off and Andie offers to "set up an intro" between him and Kristy. Okay, can someone, anyone, on the show PLEASE learn at least one or two of the particulars of life on the Cape? First of all, even in early fall it gets COLD up there so enough with the short-sleeved shirts and tank tops. Second of all, once "the season" ends almost NOBODY lives up there; the towns are very very small, and all the kids go to one of two satellite high schools. Third of all, believe me, in a small town, everyone knows everyone, especially kids, and I knew every kid my age in my town even though I went to a private school, so it makes NO sense that Pacey wouldn't know this Kristy Livingstone ("I presume") practically from birth. Whatever -- anyway, Pacey takes Andie up on her offer.
Cut to Jen's grandmother as she folds clothes. Jen comes home from school and finds out that Grams has decided to give away her grandfather's old togs to the church charity drive. Jen asks, "Don't you think that it's a little early to be clearing out his closet?" and I sort of agree, because if memory serves, planning the funeral and calling the family and making arrangements for the body pretty much take up all of your time for the first few days after someone dies, but Grams points out that "he's not going to be needing these things, and those less fortunate do." I don't know if that sort of gallows humor really has a place on this show, and neither does Jen, because she promptly gets all judgmental on Grams and pre-cries, "Gramps just died yesterday. We haven't even buried him yet," and Grams wonders what Jen would have her do and Jen says, "You're not exactly the picture of the grieving widow," a snotty line which in my family would have earned its speaker a ringing backhand slap across the face at the very least, but Grams somehow bites down on it and tells Jen sternly that she loved her husband and took care of him and prepared for his death in her own way, and meanwhile Jen's lips puff out into a little snout as she starts crying in earnest, and Grams says she feels relieved that he finally died and got some peace because she had prayed "not for his recovery, but for his release" and "he's gone -- he's been gone," and Jen stares at her and she pats Jen's face, and let's hear it for Grams, who manages to take Jen so not seriously while at the same time somehow refraining from drop-kicking Jen's sorry judgmental ass into week.
Cut to the House of Cuckoldry, as Mitch comes out onto the porch while Gale hurries up the front walk, wearing Weather-Inappropriate Tank Top Number Three and much too much make-up and making a whole bunch of excuses about why she's late and saying "I know what you must be thinking," and Mitch says, "Yep," and she tells him about the "promo meeting" going long and the traffic "all the way up I-95," as IF she would have to take 95 if she lives on Cape Cod, and I must once again beg the producers to do some goddamn research because after you get off 95 you have at least 20 minutes before you get to the bottom of the Cape, and where exactly does she work, Bridgeport? Gale then says she knows she should only give one excuse if she wants to get him to believe her -- basically admitting that she already second- and third-guessed his responses -- and he says he believes her, and she sighs with relief, but he only believes her because he heard about the traffic on the radio -- not that he tells her that, but whatever. Gale doesn't want those "old suspicions to come creeping back"; Gale says "those days" are behind them now. Gale has really fluffy hair in this scene, like she crimped it and then brushed it out or something. Mitch makes a big fake deal of taking off for a mysterious appointment in his shiny black shirt, and Gale doesn't know what to think, except perhaps "fie ye, suspicious cuckold!"
Pacey. Kristy Livingstone ("I presume"). Andie; dorky comment. Pacey; dumb limerick. Pimp-daddy organ music. Pacey does his best Jack Tripper and asks Kristy out on a date. Kristy actually accepts, to everyone's shock, including Pacey's.
Mitch in a waiting room. Mr. Drake will see him now. The receptionist shows him in and answers the phone by saying, "No...we specialize in divorce." Fie, faithless hussy, and meet your punishment at the hands of Drake, Witherspoon, and Hall!
Jen in an outdoor swing. Dawson comes over with a casserole his mom made, wearing a sweater vest that pretty much guarantees a complete loss of appetite in all who behold it, not to mention that so-'94 dweeby necklace he has on. Jen tells Dawson he looks "spiffy" and asks him where he's going; he tells her "the movies -- it's the Rialto's last night." She says that Grams is also going. Dawson asks if she (Jen) is going but she says she "thought [she'd] sit here and curse the world instead" with this bizarro faux-old-lady head movement, and also, I could see cursing the world if he had died in a car crash, but he had a serious stroke and suffered for two years, so let's not go overboard with the damn-thee-cruel-fate routine. Then we get to the heart of the matter. Jen, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably: "So, you going with Joey?" Dawson, also trying for nonchalance and sounding very fake: "Yeah, who else?" Jen, pre-crying but valiantly putting on a smile: "So, how did things work out between you guys? The two star-crossed lovers?" Dawson, flustered and half-laughing: "You know us -- just Dawson and Joey. We'll always be Dawson and Joey." Woodward and Bernstein would have called this a non-denial denial, but anyhow, Dawson adds, "Whatever that means." Jen, looking down but sort of hopeful: "How about Dawson and Jen?" Dawson, dismissive and patronizing: "Honestly, I think you could use a friend right now, more than anything else -- how 'bout it?" Jen does not tell Dawson to stuff it, or that the trite store called and they have run out of him, despite the fact that his last line set a new standard for conflict avoidance and condescension; instead she says, "I'd like that." They hug. Someone check this girl for a gag reflex. Just as Jen starts enjoying the hug in that special way, Dawson says he has to go, but that she shouldn't "sit here and curse the world all evening...okay? It's beautiful out," as IF the weather means fuck-all to someone who just lost a blood relative, and if one of my exes talked to me in that school-nurse-ish, buck-up-little-camper tone of voice, I would speeyack all over his shoes. Then Dawson says, "All right," and takes off across her lawn in his periwinkle sweater vest and Jen just watches him go instead of going all Miss-Piggy-ninja on his ass and burying a throwing star in the back of his head.
Cut to Joey sitting at the end of the pier. Oh goody, time for a sisterly talk about love as Bessie comes down to the end of the pier and sits down. Bessie has on a vest made out of old neckties. They chat about the weirdness of the situation and Bessie asks if it felt weird when they kissed, and Joey says, "No, that felt pretty right," and I have this little peeve about when people say that something feels "right" -- it just sounds really phony and Smurfy. Joey worries that they haven't kissed again since the first time. Bessie dispenses the wisdom that the second kiss is "always tougher than the first one," and then they debate the semantics of kissing and whether one kiss and multiple kisses on the same night are the same thing, and Bessie describes the first kiss as "the passionate one, the one fueled by desire," and the second one as "rational -- you've got time to think about it, to worry and over-analyze," and Joey's face falls, and Bessie says that most women like the first kiss better but she likes the second one, "because it's about something more." Bessie reassures Joey with more blathering about the second kiss. They share a sisterly hug, Bessie remembers her lost youth, Joey has her fears alleviated, and boy oh boy, does my heart feel warmed, especially when I remember my first kiss, which felt not romantic or passionate but rather like someone had put a piece of raw meat in my mouth and I felt relieved to have finally gotten it over with, but okay.
Rather Freudian shot of Dawson zipping through reeds in his powerboat. Ew! Okay, Joey is getting ready for the big date, and we see a time-lapse of her trying out and rejecting various hairstyles until she settles on just leaving it down the way she always does, because Dawson loves her for who she's always been. Except with boobs. Or something. Dawson and his penis-surrogate speedboat; Joey and her time-lapse lipstick. Dawson penis-boat; Joey necklace. For the sake of all that is holy, please let this date begin sometime before I start collecting Social Security. Finally, the phallus-craft pulls up to the Potter pier and Joey comes out onto the porch and the two of them gaze at each other in their not-dressy-dressy outfits -- you know, the casual clothing you have that makes you look like a stone fox but not like you tried too hard, so you save it for when you go out or when you have a proper date -- as more X-chromosome wailing goes on in the background, and Joey holds her arms out from her sides all stiffly, and Dawson with his Flow-Bee haircut picks her a flower from beside the pier, and Joey comes shyly down the steps all smiling and happy, and I do NOT remember the downshift from "friends" to "dating" happening this smoothly with me and my boyfriend, and we had ten years on these kids. Dawson says, "As my first act as your date" -- as if he had just been sworn in or something -- "I thought, chocolates, diamonds, convertibles...but I settled for foliage," and he holds up the flower, and Joey says in a come-hither voice, "Foliage is good." Another almost kiss, but it doesn't happen because Dawson tramples on the moment with hobnailed boots by wondering, "Should we go?" Then he says he's glad they've "already bypassed the end-of-the-evening 'will she kiss me?' drama," and as the camera circles them in their awkwardness you can actually SEE Flow-Bee tracks in his hair, which looks like Dog Boy's on Liquid Television, and then Joey comes back with some pseudo-witty line about checking into a motel and making like porn stars or something, and then Dawson says he could handle that, and I must disagree because they don't make bigger prudes than Dawson Leery, and then he wants to hold her hand, which I assume the writers intended as retro sweetness but which comes off, like so many other lines in this show, as thuddingly self-conscious and annoying. So they hold hands.
Cut to the theater. Dawson "can't believe they're tearing this place down." I can't believe they expect us to accept that a town of maybe three thousand people in a summer community has an art-house theater to begin with. Dawson and Joey find seats while decrying the forces of change, and Dawson gazes at Joey with that creepy smile that makes him look like that guy Pete from "Benson," except with more hair. Another almost kiss. Okay, I think we may have gotten the point. The lights go down and they take hands again and Dawson is still totally staring at Joey and making her really uncomfortable so that she twirls her flower around and looks anywhere but at Dawson, and the movie, "The Last Picture Show," begins. Okay, I think we may have gotten that point as well. Dawson, stop leering at Joey and watch the goddamn movie.
Cut to West Hollywood, where -- oops, my bad, cut to a town square-type place where Pacey waits, attired in cast-offs from the closet of Cosmo Kramer and rapping to himself, for his big date with Kristy Livingstone ("I presume").
Back to the Rialto, where Dawson continues to beam at Joey. Pan up the aisle to an usher in a coat with a double row of brass buttons and one of those little monkey-caps on, who leads Jen down front, but Jen zips in to the row where Dawson and Joey are sitting. The Saturday Night Live skit "Bad Idea Jeans" springs unbidden to my mind. Jen and her little cardigan and her Reese's Pieces and her "Babysitter's Club" hairdo plunk themselves down on Dawson's other side (Bad Idea Jeans!) as Dawson says in consternation, "Hey," and Jen says, "I thought I'd take your advice and get out of the house for a little while," and Dawson stutters, "M-m-my advice?" as Joey begins doing her trademark slow burn, and Dawson tells Joey, "I don't know what she's talking about," and Joey twists her lips to one side as the glare of Jen's lip gloss threatens to burn a hole in my retina. Dawson asks if Jen's grandmother came and Jen says yes, but she thought she'd come and sit with them instead (Bad Idea Jeans!) and that maybe they could go out to "the Icehouse" afterwards and "grab some food" (Bad Idea Jeans!), and Joey's nostrils have flared out to full slow-burn extension, and then Jen continues, "Unless I'm not welcome," as the light of comprehension at last begins to dawn, and Dawson tries to salvage the situation by protesting that it's not that she's not welcome, and then Jen gets flustered and stumbles over everyone in her row and out of the theater while Dawson says, "Jen! Jen! Jen!" (Bad Idea Jeans!) but she leaves anyway. Dawson squeezes his eyes closed to block out the little sun-spots left by Jen's lip-gloss glare, or maybe he just feels confused, but then he actually gets up (Bad) and leaves Joey behind (Idea) and goes after Jen (Jeans Jeans JEANS).
Dawson swaggers into the lobby but thinks Jen has gone, only to see her sitting behind him on a velvet banquette, and he turns around, and I cannot get over his hair and the fact that it looks as though someone squeezed it out of a tube and spread it onto his head. Sorry, okay, so Jen remembers aloud that they went to their first date in this same theater, and observes that "now they're tearing it down," as if the two events have any relationship to each other except in her bobby-pin-addled head. Then she says, "How's that for your metaphors," which if it had made any sense would still have sounded dim-witted. Dawson tries to explain that he and Joey have come to the theater on a date, but the loud and irritating squeaking of a fifth wheel -- oops, my bad, Jen interrupts him to ask in a teary voice, "The whole time that we were dating, were you wishing that you were with Joey instead?" To which Dawson responds not "we dated for all of three and a half minutes" and not "OINK" but "Whaaaat? No!" Then Jen wallows (pun fully intended, thank you very much) in self-pity with a whole oh-woe-is-me routine about how she only served to show Dawson who he really loved, but, see, Jen, you only dated him for three and a half minutes, besides which, YOU broke up with HIM. Dawson says, "Please don't think of it like that -- you and I had fun," like, buck up little camper! Jen blames herself for pushing him away and losing him; Dawson says she hasn't lost him and says, "I want to be a part of your life, I want to be your..." and Jen stops him and says, "...'friend'?" and she nearly starts crying. Where did this "part of your life" business come from -- their relationship lasted approximately as long as a car commercial, and now they're acting like they have children together or something? Get over it already! Dawson shrugs sheepishly and says, "I'm sorry," and Jen goes into her rueful "sorry?" routine in which she slumps over to the banquette and muses sadly, "From the girl door to the object of your affection...to the third wheel" (FIFTH wheel -- if you must use a cliché, use it correctly) and Dawson tells her not to think about this now and to let herself "heal" and Jen says that he has to say things like that and that she sees through it and then she asks him "one favor -- all I ask is that you don't jump Joey right away," and Dawson snaps, "I'm not going to jump anyone, Jen," like, yeah, really, and also chill OUT, sister, and Jen tells him that she doesn't think she could handle seeing them together, that "it might send [her] to razorblades or something," and then Dawson -- wait a minute, everybody HOLD IT. In high school, people "go out" for like five or six days, and then they break up and go out with other people, and "going out" often consists of kissing like once, and despite the relative triviality of these high-school affairs if we look at the big picture, feelings get hurt and people get bummed out, but talking about offing oneself over a scenery-chewing, schlock-film-loving, sweater-vest-sporting, hair-with-a-Flow-Bee-cutting dingbat? Pardon me while I climb into a plane, start up the steam exhaust, and sky-write the word "WHATEVER" in giant fluffy letters visible to the entire state of Massachusetts. So Dawson tells her not to joke about that and she says that Dawson and herself and her whole life in Capeside is all a joke, and I would agree with her except that I ain't laughing, and then she flees, again, crying, again, and they have PILLS for this, Jen, so please go get some and wash 'em down with some scotch.
So Dawson goes back into the screening area and of course Joey has ditched Dawson's blow-dried waffling ass and left the "foliage" on the seat. NOW I'm laughing at Dawson's look of disappointment, ha ha HAAAAAA.
This commercial break lasts a really long time, and the last commercial features a rent boy -- oops, my bad, Pacey still waiting for Kristy to show up for their date. Kristy finally turns up wearing a dress she borrowed from Pamela Anderson and Pacey gets all excited and starts planning their evening, sprinkling his dialogue with a couple of passive-aggressive references to how late she showed up, as if he couldn't have dropped a quarter and called her house, and Kristy tells him she can't stay because she has a date with -- surprise, surprise -- her boyfriend. "Today's our five-week anniversary," she explains in a helium-enhanced voice, "and he wasn't too stoked that I made other plans." Okay, the writers have actually earned themselves a couple of snaps from me for the so so high-school five-week-anniversary line, and then they ruin it by inserting the word "stoked." Pacey's simian synapses don't really fire and he stares at her and sort of gestures towards the waiting car while Kristy tells him, "I just wanted to stop by and tell you how brave I think you are," and Pacey uncomprehendingly says, "...brave?" and eventually the truth comes out, namely that Andie made up some damn-fool story about Pacey having a supposedly secret congenital "heart stripe" to get Kristy to take pity on him and go out with him, and Kristy keeps talking about his courage in enjoying life even though he lives it "under the constant threat of death," and his stoicism in not wanting any special treatment, and I have to wonder how these two DIDN'T KNOW EACH OTHER if they grew up in the same minuscule town their whole lives, and even if they didn't, Kristy would have heard of the kid with the heart ailment, especially if she saw him in gym class every week, and where did her Valley Girl accent come from, because, like, bag Pacey, I am so SHURE, and do the writers of "Three's Company" know that Andie stole this idea without their permission? Anyhow, it turns out that Kristy suffers from asthma and wouldn't want special treatment either, and after a few more admiring comments, Kristy "Obviously NOT Doctor" Livingstone ("I presume") dusts Pacey's ass and trots off to the car when her meathead boyfriend honks the horn and yells, "C'mon, Kristy, let's go" so that her boyfriend can drag her back to his cave by the hair.
Cut back to the Rialto, where a bunch of Old Navy-clad extras have begun filing out of the theater, as well as Grams, who spots Jen sitting in the back pre-crying, and when Grams beckons to Jen to join her Jen juts her jaw out and says half-tearily and half-sulkily, "Fancy meeting you here. So what are you up to now, gonna go find some action now that you're a single woman?" It evidently has not occurred to Jen that Grams, who delivered a baby last season and who packed up her husband of forty years's stuff the day after he died, probably wouldn't hesitate to chuck Jen and all of her worldly belongings out onto the front lawn for talking to her like that, but Grams just says, "Jennifer -- don't SAY those things. I know you're upset about your grandfather, but..." and Jen shakes her head and chews her lip while pre-crying and says, "No, it's not just that. Look at me. I'm sixteen years old -- look what I've become." Good thing it isn't a bit early for a midlife crisis. Not. It is. Jen goes on, "My parents couldn't stand me, so they shipped me off to you." Good thing her parents probably didn't get fed up with all the pre-crying and lip-biting and melodrama. Not. They did. Jen, still blithering: "Here I am, in this strange town without a friend to my name, and...you know what the sad thing is, is that actually I think you may be the best friend I've got -- I'm just not all that sure that you like me." Good thing Jen makes herself so very very likable by whining and whingeing and whimpering all the time and saying what a terrible person she is and waiting for people to correct her and getting depressed when they don't because her Indian name is Wet Blanket. Not. She doesn't. Of course Grams protests that she loves Jen and that she doesn't have anyone else, which she sort of has to say because they have the same last name and everything, and Jen says while crying that she pities her if that's the case, and I have to agree, except that if Grams tolerates this behavior then she forfeits my pity. They hug. Jen asks how Grams liked the movie and Grams chuckles and says, "They're not like they used to be," and I hate to tell her this but "The Last Picture Show" came out in 1971, so I don't know how much more "used to be" she expects, but then she talks about her first date with Jen's grandfather and how they came to the Rialto and how handsome he looked, and that she didn't come to watch the movie, which we could have figured out because Peter Bogdanovich doesn't exactly promote Christian family values, but to be with her husband. I found this hokey, but somewhat touching, particularly since Grams now has to put up with Jen all by herself. Jen says, "I'm so sorry." The two of them watch the usher sweeping up popcorn in his jaunty little uniform.
Cut to Pacey, still attired in his "Designs By Cosmo" shirt, browsing in the hair-colorant aisle of the drugstore, and who to our wondering eyes should appear but Andie, who looks much blonder herself than when we last saw her -- um, memo to the casting director: when you select actors for these roles, get people who have the right hair in the first place. Pacey busts Andie for busting him. Andie tells Pacey that if he thought Kristy would hop and leave her "beautiful all-state football boyfriend" for Pacey, "a sophomore with a heart stripe," he's "massively deluded." Speaking of deluded, what precise brand of crack made the writers think an all-state football player would EVER come off of Cape Cod? Pacey then expounds to Andie on Kristy Livingstone ("I presume") being "kind of like a metaphor," which if we look at that statement closely means that she was actually a simile, but I'll save the semantic hair-splitting for later and confine myself to remarking that the characters on this show should spend a little less time using the WORD "metaphor" and a little MORE time figuring out how to draw a decent one. Anyhow, Kristy and his dyeing his hair both represented his effort to break out of "the black sheep, the loser, the brunette" rut he has gotten stuck in, and I have two words for the rockheads in the media who insist on equating brunettes with mousiness and lack of sex appeal: Sophia. Loren. Thank you and good night. Anyway, Andie sort of takes pity on Pacey and helps him find a decent dye to change his hair back, and he doesn't know if he should trust her, and she says, "You'll just have to take that chance, won't you? Bye, Officer Pacey," in a sing-song voice, thus completing the groundwork for the semi-antagonistic boy-girl friendship-with-sexual-tension that I like to call "Dawson And Joey II: Electric Bugaloo."