Light At The End Of The Tunnel

S03E21

This half of tonight's extra-special two-hour Glee extravaganza was exceptionally light on the plot, but I feel I can't just slap up a list of the songs, so here goes:

New Directions almost gets completely derailed on the eve of this year's Nationals competition when Mercedes downs a bad burrito, but Coach Sylvester whips her back into shape just in time for the children to perform to a packed house that includes this evening's special guest judges Perez Hilton, Rex Lee, and Sméagol. Once again, the children's primary competition is Vocal Adrenaline, who perform a couple of numbers centered around Not Really All That Unique, and when Perez and Sméagol split the vote, it's left to Lloyd from Entourage to choose the winner.

Naturally, that winner is New Directions, and during the wild celebratory montage that ensues, Will and Emma finally knock boots. And in the end, Mr. Schue wins Teacher Of The Year because he's so inspirational, or some such bullshit, and everyone gets all misty-eyed and clingy.

Featuring little Steffi Germanotta's "Edge Of Glory," as performed by the fun-loving gals of Idina Menzel's erstwhile lady-choir, with solos split amongst Santana Lopez, Mercedes, Quinn, and Single-T Tina; "It's All Coming Back To Me Now," a song whose most notorious interpreter I will be doing my best to ignore, as performed primarily by Idiot Rachel with backing vocals provided by the other children of New Directions; Meat Loaf's infamously gonzo power ballad "Paradise By The Dashboard Light," with solo duties shared by Frankenteen, Puck, Dreamboat Blaine, St. Gay Of Lima, Santana, Brit-Brit, Mercedes, and Rachel; Nicki Minaj's "Starships," as performed by Vocal Adrenaline, with Not Really All That Unique handling the lead; "Pinball Wizard" from The Who's Tommy, as performed by Vocal Adrenaline, with Not Really All That Unique once again handling the lead; a stirring tribute to Starlight Express, as performed by The Scaleblazers of Portland, Oregon; Grouplove's "Tongue Tied," performed by the children of New Directions as background music for their victory montage; and Queen's "We Are The Champions," performed by the children of New Directions as tribute to Mr. Schue during the Teacher Of The Year awards ceremony.

Ready, set, GO! Mr. Schue bursts into a crowded hotel room somewhere in "Chicago" to find the lovely ladies of New Directions -- minus Rachel, of course, but plus Coach Sylvester -- swarming around the bed upon which a deathly-ill Mercedes reclines, a mighty pout firmly affixed to her face. "What's going on?" I'm sure he shouts, offering the ever-efficient Coach Sylvester an opportunity to reply, "Her temperature's a hundred and one degrees, and given the fact that Weezie's complaining about an upset stomach, it's either Amazonian dengue fever or the H1N1 supervirus." "Or I have food poisoning," Weezie whimpers, a diagnosis that Santana Lopez is more than happy to confirm. Seems the lovely ladies of New Directions -- definitely minus Rachel, though Coach Sylvester's participation remains in doubt at this point in time -- decided to snag some Mexican for lunch, and while most of them opted for the relative safety of the local Chipotle, Mercedes decided to get all daring and "Let's try something real Chicagoans actually eat!" about the whole thing and somehow ended up at the infamous Taco & Burrito Palace on Halsted Street. I mean, I'm pretty sure that's what happened. In any event, the raging case of E. coli-related gastroenteritis Mercedes proceeded to contract has obviously laid her low, and it has also left New Directions without one of its primary vocalists on the very eve of this year's Nationals competition -- a Nationals competition White Sue needs to win in order to wrest control of McKinley High's Cheerios back from Black Sue, as I'm sure you'll all recall. Whatever will they do?

Cue Mr. Schue and Coach Sylvester springing into action, with Mr. Schue immediately ordering Quinn and Single-T Tina to begin rehearsals in order to replace Mercedes in her big number, should that particular need arise, while Coach Sylvester vows to place Mercedes on a Vitamin B12 drip, flush her system with Pedialyte, and plunge her into an ice-filled bathtub in a desperate attempt to get her ambient body temperature back down to normal. "Worked in Jacob's Ladder," Coach Sylvester correctly notes, marching off towards the suite's bathroom as Mr. Schue concludes this insane flurry of activity with a gung-ho "Let's do it!" Title card.

Hotel Hall. Will slumps dejectedly against one of the walls and, after an adorably-attired Emma wanders on over to wonder what gives, he frets that should they blow this year's Nationals as badly as they blew last year's, the graduating children will never have had a chance to roam the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High as champions, and it'll all be his fault. Now, I gave up trying to keep the children's ever-shifting allegiances straight a very, very long time ago, but aside from Idiot Rachel, hasn't every other graduating senior had a chance to roam the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High as a champion, either as a member of the nationally-renown cheerleading squad or as a member of a game-winning athletic team? Or, in St. Gay Of Lima's case, as a member of both? And as far as Idiot Rachel goes, wasn't she just crowned Prom Queen last week? SHUT UP, WILL.

By Demian

Fortunately, before Will gets a chance to wallow further in his annoying self-pity, Beiste charges on up to them with news of the dire doings currently transpiring in this anonymous hotel's "Wrigley Room." Coach Beiste, Miss Pillsbury, and Mr. Schue race downstairs to find the children quite literally at each others' throats because, as Artie notes, they've "been rehearsing for three straight hours," which when you think about it is an absolutely torturous amount of time for these morons. Oh, and Puck's decided that studying for his European Geography final's just a wee bit more important than going over his dance steps for the thousandth time. And St. Gay Of Lima just found out that Rahm Emanuel handed Not Really All That Unique a key to the city for some stupid reason. And Brit-Brit accidentally dropped both her blanket and her pillow into the hotel pool. Disaster! More screaming ensues, so Santana Lopez steps to the center of the room and shouts at the other children in general, "If you are not giving this everything you've got, I will go all Lima Heights on your sorry asses!" The threat of violence seems to shut everybody up for a moment, so Mr. Schue steps into the conversational breach to deliver a heartfelt lecture on the subject of "Passion," or whatever, and just like that, the children get back to rehearsing their various routines. Well, that was easy.

Cut to the façade of the Nationals performance venue, and while this episode is supposedly taking place in Chicago, the building we're looking at in this shot is actually The Luckman Fine Arts Complex at California State University Los Angeles. Maybe you've heard of it? It's in Los Angeles. And in a blessed case of If I Quote Him, He Will Come, Jesse St. James appears on plaza to inquire of the just-arriving Idiot Rachel, "Looking for what's left of your dignity?" Jesse St. James's eminently mackable hair is looking quite fine this evening, but that garishly-patterned tuxedo jacket of his is unfortunately giving me a rash. And don't get me started on that tacky little impresario scarf he's insouciantly knotted around his neck. Yick. Anyway, Idiot Rachel approaches him, and he immediately starts trying to psych her out by insisting that Carmen Thibodeaux would never, ever show up at Nationals just to listen to her sing. To her credit, Idiot Rachel immediately calls him on his crap, correctly surmising his surly demeanor's due to the fact that he's incredibly nervous about Vocal Adrenaline's chances at this year's competition, and she even goes so far as to point out the physical tics he tends to display when he's tense. For whatever reason, this causes Jesse St. James to collapse completely right there in front of her, and he spends the several minutes babbling on and on and on about his own self-perceived failures as a glee club coach until Idiot Rachel's left with little choice but to offer him the same sort of pep talk Emma gave Will a couple of scenes ago, and it's boring as hell. But, you know, at least we're not finding out that his failures as a glee club coach are due to the fact that his boyfriend's been secretly beating him for the last several months, so I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies.

In any event, his confession leads to the two of them chatting rather amiably with each other as equals, or something, until Idiot Rachel excuses herself to powder her nose, leaving Frankenteen an opening to lumber on over and glare. And did they suddenly decide to, like, dye all the gray out of Cory Monteith's hair for this episode? Because it's looking unusually dark and monochromatic against his terminally pasty face in this scene. Oh, whatever -- it's not like I really care at this point, and besides, we've got about twenty blissful minutes of near-uninterrupted Nationals performances to get to, so: Long story short, Jesse St. James makes a mild-on-the-surface, snide-underneath comment about Frankenteen's impending dunderheaded nuptials to Idiot Rachel and, after the two icily wish each other luck, we hop inside to the venue's...

...remarkably capacious dressing room to find Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel talking some more about their impending dunderheaded nuptials, and the only thing you need to know about the conversation that follows is that Frankenteen admits he bet that be-mulleted hockey jock who's supposed to be in a medically-induced coma five hundred dollars that New Directions would triumph at Nationals. Idiot Rachel is shocked and appalled, because that money was meant to pay for their idiot honeymoon in idiot Niagara Falls, but Frankenteen's certain everything will work out for the best. Everybody got that? Good. Moving on!

Mr. Schue takes a few moments to compose himself out in the hallway, then bounds into the remarkably capacious dressing room to offer the children a few final words of encouragement and advice. Fortunately, Frankenteen interrupts him. Unfortunately, Frankenteen interrupts him to deliver a speech about how super-fabulous Mr. Schue has been as a teacher over the last three years despite all evidence to the contrary, so I'll skip ahead to the bit where a miraculously recovered Mercedes swans into the remarkably capacious dressing room to sass, "Now, I know you weren't planning on doing a show circle without me!" Elation abounds, carrying the children directly into this episode's first commercial break.

Competition Auditorium. Beiste, Sue, Will and Emma take their seats, each expressing anxiety over the children's chances, with Will especially worried over the fact that New Directions is going first -- "the death slot," as he puts it -- and then the auditorium lights dim so Glee's usual Announcer Guy might get on the auditorium's sound system to welcome everyone to "The Forty-Eighth Annual National High School Show Choir Competition," which is being sponsored by a Chicago-area Chevrolet dealership that closed a dozen years ago. We are then introduced to this evening's special guest judges, who include Lindsay Lohan, Perez Hilton and Rex Lee. The latter guest judge is here meant to be playing "Martin Fong," the nonexistent alderman of the city's nonexistent fifty-first ward, but I suspect he'll always be Lloyd from Entourage for most people. The former guest judges are here meant to be playing members of the human race. Needless to say, they're failing miserably at it.

With all that over with, we duck behind the curtain to share a little last-minute pre-performance squee-filled moment with Santana, Brit-Brit and Quinn, and then Announcer Guy introduces the children, and it begins.

This first number -- little Steffi Germanotta's "Edge Of Glory" -- was initially meant to be performed solely by the fun-loving gals of Idina Menzel's now-defunct yet still-nurturing lady-choir, but Mercedes's momentary illness opened things up to include all of the lovely ladies of New Directions except for Idiot Rachel, along with quite a few anonymous backup dancers we've never seen before and shall never see again. Santana, Mercedes, Quinn and Single-T Tina share lead vocals, and the first time this aired, I was pretty much impressed with it all, even though it's just a straight-up cover of the original. However, upon rewatch, it becomes clear they're once again attempting to mask Amber Riley's inadequacies as a dancer with a lot of abrupt jump-cuts that obscure the choreography, to the detriment of the performance as a whole. The vocals are still first-class, of course, but the visuals end up leaving a lot to be desired. Also, I suppose I should note that despite her loud misgivings about them earlier in the episode, Quinn's formerly-squashy legs hold up just fine throughout, thank you very much. Almost as if she never had that asinine car accident in the first place, now that I think about it. Imagine that!

And when it's over, the audience offers them all a polite round of applause. Because, you know, they're going first, so nobody's been primed yet to give every single goddamned performance a standing ovation. Meanwhile Idiot Rachel sneaks a peek out at the seats from the wings, and to her dismay, she realizes Carmen Thibodeaux has yet to arrive. Frankenteen offers her a little pep talk -- this particular episode is dreadfully heavy on the pep talks -- so Idiot Rachel straightens her shoulders, takes a deep breath and...

...grinds down into extreme slow-motion to take her place center stage. Continents divide, great mountain ranges are thrown up and eroded down to nothingness and several new species evolve, but eventually, Idiot Rachel hits her mark and a spotlight opens up above her head as she throws herself into the opening lines of "It's All Coming Back To Me Now." And no, I'm still not going to acknowledge this song's most notorious interpreter, and you can't make me. Nyaaaaah. For those of you playing along at home, the children tasked with standing behind Idiot Rachel to sway and yodel are Single-T Tina, Quinn, Sugar Motta, Dreamboat Blaine, The Leprechaun and Gaylord Wiener, even though the show's taken it upon itself at numerous points in the past to prove to the audience that at least two of those people can't sing. The performance itself is of the stand-and-pose variety, with Idiot Rachel belting the lyrics all the way out to the cheap seats while the camera goes spinny around her, so there's not much to say about it, really. We are treated to a couple of audience reaction shots, though, the first of which I'll be forced to ignore because it involves Sméagol and That Thing From The Internet looking heavily medicated, but the second one's of Jesse St. James looking all photogenically stricken by Idiot Rachel's undeniable talent, or something, so that's okay, I suppose.

By Demian

And in the middle of it all, Carmen Thibodeaux comes parading down one of the side aisles -- ever so fashionably late, of course -- to take her reserved seat all the way down front, which of course reenergizes Idiot Rachel, or something, and when it's all over, the audience rises as one to its feet to cheer and holler while Idiot Rachel darts off into the wings to hug Frankenteen. Yawn.

Those two can't spend very long in their touching embrace, though, because it's time for all of the children to retake the stage for the final third of the New Directions musical trio this evening, Meat Loaf's "Paradise By The Dashboard Light." And as several noted on the forum boards, there's an immense and immensely amusing disconnect between the song's actual lyrical content and the bright, peppy way the children have chosen to perform it. I especially enjoyed the bit where Frankenteen starts screaming for the end of time to hurry up and arrive because he can't stand spending another minute with Idiot Rachel, all while the audience in the auditorium cheers him on. I mean, I can't top that -- can you? That said, it's obvious they saved their best for last, and this sequence is one of the more entertaining of the season based simply on the flashy showmanship of it all. It's been a really long time, it seems, since we've seen a fully-developed razzle-dazzle jazz-hands take on a popular song everybody knows and most people love, and while Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel do assume control of a majority of the solo bits, they do make sure to throw occasional focus onto others like Santana, Brit-Brit, St. Gay Of Lima, Dreamboat Blaine and Mercedes, so it feels a little more balanced than it would have otherwise.

By Demian

And when it's over, even the normally reserved Madame Thibodeaux can't resist openly cheering for the plucky little underdogs from McKinley High -- of course she can't -- and as Will and Emma get all huggy with each other, Jesse St. James quietly freaks while we scamper into this episode's second commercial break.

When we return, we join Mercedes and St. Gay Of Lima as they venture backstage to wish Not Really All That Unique well. Alas, Not Really All That Unique has chosen this very moment to throw an enormous last-minute screaming diva fit about her supposedly miserable lot in life, and I start snickering when Mercedes and St. Gay toss a couple of silent "Bitch crazy!" looks at each other. Well, I'm choosing to interpret them as silent "Bitch crazy!" looks, and that'll be the end of the discussion about that. In any event, St. Gay and Mercedes eventually talk Not Really All That Unique back from the edge, and then Not Really All That Unique makes me fear for the fourth season when she threatens to transfer to McKinley year. Fortunately, however, we don't really have time to dwell on that fresh slice of horror at the moment because it's time for...

...Vocal Adrenaline to take the stage! The first of their two numbers this evening is a musically straightforward cover of Nicki Minaj's "Starships" that's greatly enhanced by the rather acrobatic dance routine Not Really All That Unique's fellow Adrenalines hurl themselves into while Not Really All That Unique does little more than strut-strut-strut! through them, taking great care not to get her wig whacked off by some errant flying chorus girl. And I might as well say it now: That strut-strut-strut! thing Not Really All That Unique does here? She did the exact same thing the last time we saw her, and she'll be doing it again during Vocal Adrenaline's number this evening, so I'm thinking she's basically a one-trick pony. Yet another reason they need to keep her away from McKinley year. I mean, yeah, I don't mind watching her fierce prancing schtick once or twice a season, but can you imagine week after week of this? No, don't answer that. In fact, forget I even brought it up.

First up is the competition's "Individual Show Choir MVP Award," and while Idiot Rachel obviously covets that particular trophy, it ends up going to Not Really All That Unique. And now that I'm getting a good look at Not Really All That Unique's fellow students from Carmel High, it's pretty clear Jesse St. James has continued Idina Menzel's fine tradition of deploying twelfth-year seniors, because that guy on the left is definitely pushing thirty. Possibly from the other side, even.

comes the award for third place, and they give it to The Scale Blazers, and nobody cares. Not even those poor kids from Portland, who are still laced into their goddamned skates, for Christ's sake.

And finally, we've arrived at the award for first, and I must commend them on their valiant attempt to prolong the tension, here. I must also note that their valiant attempt fails, but hey! You can't have everything, can you? McKinley High wins, and confetti cannons explode from offstage, and the children go bananas with the screaming and the hugging and the jumping up and down in slow motion, but honestly? It's Sue's silent salute from the audience that gets to yours truly. Or maybe I'm just saying that because I can't think of anything else to type about a slow-motion celebration montage that drags on for fifty full seconds of screentime.

And if you think that was a waste of time, it gets worse: Once we return from this episode's commercial break, we get thrown into another slow-motion celebration montage, this one taking place back in the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High. They try to fake us out at the beginning, of course, with a couple of be-mulleted hockey jocks approaching the just-returning children of New Directions with what appear to be slushie-filled plastic cups, but those cups actually contain a lot more confetti, and that sets off an endless sequence of parties scored by a cover of Grouplove's "Tongue Tied," which is yet another song I don't particularly care for. In all fairness, though, parts of this bit do serve a larger purpose by tying up loose plot threads both new and old, as when Frankenteen collects his winnings from a sheepish-looking Hockey Guy Who Should Be In A Medically-Induced Coma, and when White Sue presents The Maharishi with an oversized check for ten thousand dollars, thereby successfully wresting full control of The Cheerios back from Black Sue. Oh, and at one point, while the children are spraying fake champagne on each other over in the music room, Will totally has sex with Emma back at their apartment, so I guess we won't be dealing with her boring obsessive-compulsive disorder storyline anymore. And after Idiot Rachel signs her very first actual autograph -- it's for an apparently star-struck underclassperson who's apparently twenty-five years old -- the children plus Mr. Schue place their enormous award in the music room's trophy case and stare at it for a while until...

...Idiot Rachel and Frankenteen get summoned to The Maharishi's office for a chat. "Take a seat," The Maharishi instructs once they've arrived, "as I only have a few moments before I must chastise the cafeteria cooks for selling our frozen vegetables on the black market." "As co-captains of the nationally-victorious New Directions singing group," The Maharishi continues while Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel fidget and squirm on his sofa, "please accept these official William McKinley High School bumper stickers and miniature pompoms." Frankenteen is inordinately stoked by this generous gift, but wait! That's not all! "Although I don't condone youngsters getting married," The Maharishi notes, "and while I wish everyone waited until they were at least twenty-nine years old with solid employment and a full 401k retirement plan, here's a little something for your impending wedding celebration." The Maharishi draws a white envelope from his jacket pocket and hands it over to Idiot Rachel, who opens it to find a crisp new five-dollar bill inside. Heh. And before they go, The Maharishi has one small favor to ask of them: The high school is hosting some sort of super-secret special event the following evening. Could the nationally-victorious New Directions singing group grace said event with a tune or two? Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel of course immediately agree, but we have to wait until after this episode's final commercial break to find out what that super-secret special event involves, even though somebody said something about The Teacher Of The Year Award about a dozen scenes ago.

Teachers' Lounge After Dark. Will and the adorably-attired Emma make final sartorial preparations to attend that super-secret special event the following evening, and they make schmoopy noises at each other until Sue materializes in the lounge doorway, sporting a battered-looking top hat. "Award ceremony's about to start!" she calls out, so Will and Emma follow her out into the hallowed halls of dear McKinley High, where they politely listen as Sue regales them like so: "Lots of competition for Teacher Of The Year, but my source -- and when I say 'my source,' I mean Becky Jackson, hiding in a dummy filing cabinet that I put in Figgins's office -- my source said, 'Sue Sylvester, make room in your trophy case for yet another accolade.'" "Let us review why," Sue continues, as Will and Emma smile indulgently at her. "I led your tragic band of misfits to a victory at Nationals," Sue notes, "I defeated my Nubian nemesis, and of course The Cheerios welcomed me back with open arms, and I did all of this without losing a single day of work and in spite of the fact that I've been pregnant now for an indeterminate number of months!" Will spouts some platitudes in Sue's general direction by way of reply, and with that, Sue graciously gestures for the two of them to precede her into The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion.

By Demian

comes the award for third place, and they give it to The Scale Blazers, and nobody cares. Not even those poor kids from Portland, who are still laced into their goddamned skates, for Christ's sake.

By Demian

And, after a bit of business with the retiring Mrs. Hagberg, The Maharishi calls Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel to the stage to present the award for Teacher Of The Year. Unsurprisingly, given the morons who are presenting it, the plaque goes to Mr. Schue. Coach Sylvester offers him her warm congratulations, mainly because she's still zonked out on all those elephant hormones they've been pumping into her for the last few indeterminate number of months, but before Mr. Schue gets a chance to accept his thoroughly undeserved prize, Frankenteen and Idiot Rachel deliver a pair of entirely unnecessary speeches I'll not be bothering to transcribe.

And when they're done, the curtain behind them opens to reveal the other children of New Directions, who waste little time propelling themselves into their inevitable rendition of Queen's "We Are The Champions," and it's sort of sweet, but it's also sort of a great big mess because once they drag Mr. Schue onstage for yet another round of hugging, they sort of forget that this is supposed to be a live performance, and the soundtrack goes completely out of whack with the lip-synch. Oh, Glee. You'll never, ever change, will you?

week: Season finale! Season finale! Wooooooooo!

Demian had the great misfortune of sitting through a West End production of Starlight Express twenty years ago. You may forward your condolences to him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.