All Good Things...

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 lan 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 finaleexcept 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 reasonwhat? 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. In2008. 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, whoisn'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 freakbut 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, butas 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, "Uhlong story." Pacey gives Joey a big introduction to the entire restaurant, and she gets a round of applause, forcoming 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 seesew, 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!"