This Episode's Real Title Is Too Stupid For Words

S04E06

This week, it seems like they whipped up a frenzy of fake little mini-dramas just so they'd have some sort of framework upon which to hang a series of shot-by-shot rip-offs from Grease -- which is a movie I have not been screaming to see redone, by the way -- so you'll forgive me if this summary's a bit short. You'll also forgive me, I'm sure, if it's a bit lacking in detail, as I found myself zoning in and out over the course of the hour due to sheer boredom.

Anyway: The big news, I suppose, is that Urethra Franklin's out as Rizzo in this week's big musical production. Seems The Maharishi took it upon himself to phone Not-So-Unique's parents to congratulate them on their offspring's success, and much to everyone's surprise, neither Mama nor Papa wants Urethra drawing attention to herself like that. Yes, they had no problems with Not-So-Unique's performance at Nationals last year, but that took place in cosmopolitan Chicago where, as you'll recall, Mayor Emanuel gave her the key to the city for her absolutely amazing amounts of courage, or whatever. As Mama and Papa are pretty sure the town's reaction to their child is going to be quite a different in wee little benighted Lima, they refuse to give their permission for Urethra's participation in the play. Not to worry, though, 'cause Artie just calls up Santana Lopez, who gladly steps in at the last minute as Not-So-Unique's replacement. Just go with it.

But alas! The infernal backstage machinations don't end there. New Quinn, you see, has taken it upon herself to fuck with Boring New Rachel's mind by surreptitiously taking in the waistbands on all of Boring New Rachel's costumes. Because she's a moron, Boring New Rachel actually, honest-to-God falls for this trick, and she very nearly gets her bulimia on in a desperate attempt to slim down until New Finn talks her back from the edge during a scene I found to be awfully sweet, mainly because New Finn looked pretty hot with his hair all up in a '50s pompadour.

Needless to say, the show is a smashing success, but not everyone's happy about it. For some dumb reason, St. Gay Of Lima and Idiot Rachel decided to fly back into town to deal with their respective ex-boyfriends on opening night, and as a result, all four of them wind up miserable by the episode's end. It sounds exciting, I'm sure, but trust me: It's a great, big snooze.

In other news, Drunk Kate Hudson may or may not have slept with Dean Geyer in order to repay Idiot Rachel for yet another of the latter's foolish insults, and Mr. Schue formally hands stewardship of The Glee Club over to Bloaty The Gravy Clown.

Featuring exacting and therefore dull recreations of "Greased Lightning," as performed by New Finn, Really Old Finn, New Puck, Gaylord Weiner, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, Speed Racer, and No Longer New Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Can't Be Bothered To Look Up, the latter of whom is starting to look like that thing from Predator; "Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee," as performed by New Quinn, Sugar Motta, Brit-Brit, Single-T Tina, and Urethra Franklin; "Beauty School Dropout," as performed by Dreamboat Blaine and the various ladies of New Directions; "Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee (Reprise)," as performed (in English) by failed bulimic Boring New Rachel; "There Are Worse Things I Could Do," as performed by Drunk Kate Hudson, Not-So-Unique, and Santana Lopez; and "You're The One That I Want," as performed primarily by the Old and New versions of Finn and Rachel, with backup assists from just about everybody else in the cast.

Snap open on Matthew Morrison, looking deeply depressed over the fact that this show's decided to shitcan his character for the foreseeable future, the better to pander to the idiot teenagers that now make up a majority of its rapidly dwindling audience. Oh, sorry -- my bad. It's actually Mr. Schue, looking deeply depressed about the news he must now deliver to the assembled children of The New New Directions. He heaves a tremendous sigh and begins, "I have an announcement to make." "Adele is dead!" Brit-Brit immediately guesses, which is funny because Glee has this amusing habit of killing the musicians it features. "No," Mr. Schue patiently corrects before confessing he's decided to take a sabbatical to join that much-vaunted (and ultimately useless, I'm sure) blue-ribbon panel of his down in Washington, effective immediately. The children, of course, are shocked and appalled, especially after Mr. Schue admits he'll be gone through Sectionals. Single-T Tina is particularly vexed by this bit of news, and her mood doesn't improve at all when Mr. Schue reveals that Frankenteen will be assuming control of the group as advisor. "Finn cannot take over Glee Club!" Single-T Tina screams, leaping to her feet. "He doesn't know what he's doing at all!" And...point to Tina. A painfully obvious point, but a point nonetheless.

Frankenteen, who'd been precariously perched on a nearby stool, lurches to his ungainly feet to assure them, "I know I can do this, and I've got some really great ideas for Sectionals." "We'll all be DEAD by then!" Single-T Tina howls, igniting an explosion of truly satisfying Finn-bashing from the music room's cheap seats until Coach Sylvester materializes to summon both Frankenteen and Mr. Schue to The Lair Of The Maharishi, pronto.

"I-I-I don't even understand how you found out," Will flusters once we've leapt over to Figgins's office for the fun that's sure to follow. "I have the choir room bugged," Sue duhs, adding, "That plaque with the dead fat lady on it? Her eyes are cameras." Excellent. Will allows that particularly outrageous claim to pass unremarked upon, and after reminding Sue that none of this is really her business in the first place, he notes that he already cleared the whole Frankenteen thing with The Maharishi weeks ago. "I don't see what the problem is," he shrugs. "Of course you don't," Sue deliciously condescends, "because this is just another one of your ill-conceived, bizarrely sentimental schemes that displays absolutely no forethought and appears immediately ridiculous to everyone in America except you." I'm with her so far.

Sue then correctly points out that Frankenteen "barely graduated high school" a mere six months ago and lacks the prerequisites required to teach in the state of Ohio. The Maharishi sagely counters that extracurricular activities like The Glee Club can be and frequently are run by non-faculty volunteers, and Frankenteen himself pipes up to note that he's more than willing to offer his services for free, so what's the big deal? "Let me just remind everyone of something," Sue icily replies. "For the past year, I have shown The Glee Club mercy, and this school has enjoyed an unprecedented era of peace, but if Bloaty The Gravy Clown is allowed to take over Glee Club, my detente with the arts at this school will be over!" I think Frankenteen just got a new permanent nickname. Hee. In any event, as the gentlemen present stare gawp-mouthed at her, "O Fortuna" kicks in on the soundtrack to herald a classic Sue Sylvester rampage through the hall outside The Maharishi's lair, where she leaves innumerable underclassmen cowering in her wake while we hop onto this evening's title card.

Fake Drama School In New York, Blotto Dance Division. Drunk Kate Hudson staggers in with a gaggle of tight-bodied upperclassmen to berate her first-year students again, some more over their collective ineptitude, then orders everybody to partner up for some jetés. Naturally, this offers Idiot Rachel a chance to shoot a lengthy bit of shit with Dean Geyer while they await their turn, and long story short, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway's landed an audition for a pretentious-sounding bleeding-edge version of The Glass Menagerie "set in a zoo with Peter Dinklage as The Gentleman Caller." "You're too hot to play Laura," Dean Geyer LIES, and with that, they jeté across the floor. Well, Dean Geyer hoists Idiot Rachel up into the air, and she flails her legs around for a little while until he decides to put her back down again, but they're calling it a jeté, so whatever.

Once that's over with, Idiot Rachel asks Dean Geyer if he'd be so kind as to help her run lines, and barely has he agreed to do so when Drunk Kate Hudson reels on up to them to slur that Idiot Rachel's "not tough enough yet" to withstand the devastating demands Rachel's would-be director "Ivan" tends to place upon his actors, and I have no idea how Drunk Kate Hudson managed to overhear their whispered conversation, but again: Whatever. The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway foolishly insists she's got what it takes, then even more foolishly suggests Drunk Kate Hudson audition for Amanda -- you know, so Drunk Kate Hudson might "maybe get back in the game." I suppose Idiot Rachel's honestly trying to be friendly and helpful with that, but seriously: Thirtysomething Kate Hudson as sixtysomething Amanda Wingfield? Bitch, please. Drunk Kate Hudson -- clearly and rightfully insulted -- fixes a far-too-bright smile on her face at that, hollers for everyone present to take five, and teeters over to Dean Geyer to set her instantly-concocted plan for revenge in motion by convincing him to become her new T.A. "Could we start on Monday?" he asks, noting he's already promised his weekend to Idiot Rachel. "Yeah!" Drunk Kate Hudson cheerily agrees, though that hard glint in her eyes promises violence, so I suppose Idiot Rachel is fucked. Again.

By Demian

April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. We enter to find Boring New Rachel, Sugar Motta, and Brit-Brit in the middle of their costume fittings with that poor, put-upon drudge Single-T Tina, and of course, there's a problem: Boring New Rachel can no longer squeeze into her wasp-waisted poodle skirt. "This fit yesterday!" Boring New Rachel pouts. "Maybe it's stress-bloating," Single-T Tina suggests, and no, it's not, because it's actually part of a nefarious plot hatched by Hateful New Quinn to send Boring New Rachel whirling into a shame spiral that ends with Boring New Rachel face-down in the toilet, yakking up chunky little pieces of her digestive tract in a desperate and futile attempt to drop another two or three pounds, as we learn once Hateful New Quinn arrives on the scene to smear us sideways into a flashback of Hateful New Quinn secretly altering the waistband on Boring New Rachel's skirt. Yawn. Because Boring New Rachel is a complete fucking moron, she totally believes Hateful New Quinn when the latter states that Boring New Rachel's "metabolism is grinding to a halt" due to all of those disgusting fat-pig genes Boring New Rachel inherited from her mother, and then, after blatantly insulting everyone present, Hateful New Quinn invites them all to a sleepover at her house -- including "Silence Of The Lambs" "ladyboy" Not-So-Unique. Because everyone present is also a complete fucking moron, they eagerly accept. I want every single one of these dipshits dead.

Hummel Tires And Lube. Given the fact that there's a crapped-out 1948 Ford Deluxe convertible parked in the middle of the shop floor, we can all see where this is going, right? Right. So, New Finn, Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, New Puck, and No Longer New Guy With Gross Hair Whose Name I Still Can't Be Bothered To Look Up arrive from points unknown to be greeted by Old Finn, Gaylord Wiener, and Artie, and after Old Bloaty delivers an inspirational speech I will not be bothering to transcribe, they eventually launch themselves into a rehearsal of "Greased Lightning," inconsistently bowdlerized lyrics and all. It comes exceptionally close to being a shot-by-shot remake of the original sequence in the movie -- mid-song switch into fantasy sequence and all -- and as I've always thought that number was skeevy and gross when it wasn't busy being pointless and dull, I have little to say about Glee's careful recreation of it here aside from this: Blake Jenner looks waaaaaay better with his vile Bieber-wannabe emo 'do all poofed up in a '50s pompadour. Like, hot, even, especially when he strips down to that tight black t-shirt of his. Woof.

And then I remember that Blake Jenner just turned twenty three months ago, and I feel completely disgusting about myself and proceed to shut up, which means I actually have absolutely nothing to say about this number at all.

Fake Drama School In New York, Blotto Dance Division. Idiot Rachel and St. Gay Of Lima help each other with their stretching exercises until St. Gay gets a "Grease update from Tina." "Apparently," St. Gay reads from the screen of his product-placed iPhone, "the girl playing Sandy has gained so much weight, she can't fit into her clothes." Nope, still not buying that asinine and insulting subplot full of fucking idiot morons, so let's see what The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway and St. Gay have to say about recent events in their own lives: Not much, it turns out, because both are still obsessed with their ex-boyfriends, to the point that they're seriously considering flying to Lima for the weekend just to see the school play. Fortunately, neither of them can really afford the trip. Unfortunately, Drunk Kate Hudson wobbles into the studio at this very moment to craftily deploy phase two of her earlier-concocted plan for revenge by offering Idiot Rachel and St. Gay use of her frequent flyer miles on JetBlue. They're worthless to her, after all, ever since she got herself banned from the airline after a "Bloody Mary-fueled panic attack at thirty thousand feet that resulted in the hospitalization of three flight attendants," so Idiot Rachel and St. Gay would be fools were they not to take advantage of Drunk Kate Hudson's entirely unexpected largesse. Naturally, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway's too dumb to wonder why Drunk Kate Hudson's being so nice to her all of a sudden, so I guess she and St. Gay are heading back to Ohio.

Cut to Hateful New Quinn's barely believable slumber party, already in progress. After Hateful New Quinn shows Boring New Rachel her first-place trophy for "Most Tongues Spoken At Bible Camp," Sugar Motta, Single-T Tina, Brit-Brit, and Urethra Franklin enter with all sorts of delicious and fattening goodies for a veritable slumber party feast. When Boring New Rachel plaintively asks for something healthier to nosh upon (Brittany: "You can eat Kleenex. They taste like clouds."), Hateful New Quinn drags her into the bathroom for a quick private lecture regarding the many glorious benefits of teenaged bulimia. Because she is a fucking moron, Boring New Rachel remains in the can to obediently shove her fingers down her throat while Hateful New Quinn floats back into her bedroom to slap a tatty brunette wig on her head, the better to lead the others in a rousing cover of "Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee," and I'm sorry, but Stockard Channing did it better back in 1978. Even though Stockard Channing was fifty-seven years old at the time.

Now, I noticed that some people on the forum boards complained that it makes no sense for Hateful New Quinn to trash Boring New Rachel for being "lousy with virginity" when she herself is head of this year's Abstinence Club, and yeah, that does make no sense if you see this performance as some sort of fantasy sequence that's taking place in Hateful New Quinn's head. I'm thinking it's more straightforward than that, though, with Hateful New Quinn simply leading her new best friends in a playful karaoke slumber party romp that has the extra added bonus of insulting Boring New Rachel at the same time. And as the number itself is little more than yet another near shot-by-shot restaging of the movie's superior version, that's pretty much all I have to say about that. Oh, except for the fact that I shouted out, "SAY SOMETHING STUPID!" right as Boring New Rachel emerged from the bathroom to ask, "Are you making fun of me, Kitty?" because you can take the boy out of Sidetrack, but you can't take Sidetrack out of the boy.

Lair Of The Maharishi, the following morning. Frankenteen lurches in to find Figgins already waiting for him with a glum-looking Urethra and her parents, "Rob and Betty Adams," who are there to pull Not-So-Unique out of the musical. It's not that they're bigoted and wholly unsupportive trolls, mind you -- in fact, they've been completely on Not-So-Unique's side her entire life, even back when she insisted on going as Shirley Hemphill for Halloween when she was five. Rather, they're afraid Urethra will become even more of a target for McKinley's Neanderthals than she already is should she star as Rizzo as planned. The miraculously-appearing Coach Sylvester agrees, and with that, Not-So-Unique's been cut from the play. "I can't believe you would do something like this!" Bloaty The Gravy Clown hisses once Urethra and her parents have left the room. "You mean do something like conveniently protect the welfare of a student so that it just happens to derail the school musical?" Sue coolly and magnificently replies. "I think that sounds exactly like something I'd do," she continues, happily adding for emphasis, "Classic Sue Sylvester!" "If you don't have a Rizzo," Sue concludes triumphantly, "you don't have a show."

Cut to Santana Lopez graciously accepting the role in question. Of course. Of course. "Are you sure?" Artie squeaks, noting, "We open tomorrow, and we just gave you the script!" Santana assures him she was born to play the part, and adds that she's quite conveniently known it by heart since she was an infant. The other children currently assembled in the music room are way stoked, with the notable exception of Single-T Tina, who just got unceremoniously screwed out of yet another leading role. D'OH!

Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High, opening night. No, I can't figure out this episode's twisted internal timeline, either, so let's all agree to drop the subject forever, okay? Excellent. In any event, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway and St. Gay Of Lima presently round the far corner arm-in-arm to reminisce their collective way toward The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion, and they're soon enough joined by Mercedes, who insists upon dragging them backstage so they can say hello to everyone.

Meanwhile, Boring New Rachel's deep in the throes of a last-minute crisis because she's convinced she somehow added another two inches -- two motherfucking inches -- to her waistline overnight, and Boring New Rachel's officially too stupid to live, so let's wave goodbye to her dumb, boring ass as Hateful New Quinn drags it off to The Novak for a quick little refreshing purge and focus instead on... Yeah, no. The Horrible Hooker and St. Gay have just run into Dreamboat Blaine and Bloaty The Gravy Clown, and as I still don't care about their eternally annoying romantic links to each other -- especially now that their relationships are dunzo -- I have zero problems skipping through this scene, too, to land on...

...the curtain opening for Dreamboat Blaine's turn as Teen Angel, in which he croons his version of "Beauty School Dropout" to the divine Sugar Motta as the vividly-coiffed Frenchy. And as it's yet another exacting recreation of the movie version, I find myself bored nearly to tears. Though I suppose it would be remiss of me were I not to mention those couple of beats wherein Dreamboat Blaine's nearly thrown off his game thanks to a pair of surreptitious glances he steals of a stony-faced and martyrlicious St. Gay in the auditorium. So, you know, consider them mentioned. Naturally, Dreamboat Blaine recovers nicely from these momentary lapses, and the number's end is of course met with an enthusiastic round of applause from the audience.

Meanwhile, New Finn tiptoes into The Novak, where he finds Boring New Idiot Rachel attempting to hork up her small intestine because she is a fucking moron, and oh, for gross: Boring New Idiot Rachel left the toilet seat down. Who the hell voms with the goddamned toilet seat down? This disgusting dipshit, apparently, but that's not really all that important at the moment because what is important at the moment is the fact that New Finn is once again smoking hot with his spiffy little pompadour and his tight black tee and his SHOULDERS! and I am going straight to Hell, aren't I?

ANY-way, New Finn drags Boring New Idiot Rachel from the stall to lecture her about some wrestling-team cousin of his who crapped himself in the middle of a meet because he kept scarfing down laxatives to stay in a lower weight class, and it's a way cuter story than it has any right to be, mainly because OHMYGOD ARMS! but also because Boring New Idiot Rachel can't help but let loose with a cute little series of giggles once it's over. And after she promises never to shove her fingers down her throat again, New Finn and his alluringly wonky right eye exit to take their places for the big finale, leaving Boring New Idiot Rachel alone to drift her way through a shortened fantasy version of the "Sandra Dee" reprise that takes her from The Novak to backstage, where she, like, vows to become a slut so she can finally land a boyfriend, or something. I don't know. I do know, however, that Melissa Benoist sounds absolutely lovely in this little bit, so good for her.

Over at the makeup mirrors, Santana Lopez takes a moment to touch up her mascara right before her big number, and Brit-Brit stops by to offer a few addled words of encouragement along with the slyest, subtlest of guilt trips regarding their no-longer-extant relationship. Well, it's sly and subtle for Brittany, I guess.

The former lovebirds' brief exchange leads into what is easily the best performance of the night, mainly because it's the only one that deviates from the tiresome and unnecessary shot-for-shot remakes they've been thrusting upon us all evening. Santana begins "There Are Worse Things I Could Do" all by her lonesome up there on the stage, but she's soon passing off various lyrics of particular relevance to Drunk Kate Hudson over in New York City and the boy-bedragged Urethra out in the audience back at McKinley. And I don't want to oversell this -- yes, it's the best of the episode, but that's sure as hell not saying much -- but it really does end up working quite well. Not-So-Unique has the somewhat thankless task of using her parts of the song to bemoan her miserable lot in life, while Drunk Kate Hudson gets the far better end of the deal as she fantasy-belts the "flirt with all the guys" and "hurt someone like me" bits while blatantly seducing a shirtless Dean Geyer during a lazy pas de deux, and it all ends with the lovely ladies harmonizing on the song's final line as the shot cuts quickly from one to the other and back again. Not bad. Not terrific, but not bad.

By Demian

And then they fuck everything up by jumping to a scene wherein Single-T Tina and Gaylord Wiener yammer at each other about their mind-numbingly dreary relationship issues for about three thousand years. Thanks for nothing, Glee.

Elsewhere, New Finn gets what appears to be his first look at Boring New Idiot Rachel in her Slut Sandy Naughty Black Hot Pants 'N' Heels -- which: What? They had no dress rehearsals, ever? -- and he is justifiably agog, because she looks pretty goddamn good. Not as good as he does, but pretty goddamned good nevertheless. Boring New Idiot Rachel's another one who should be volumizing her hair on the regular from now on. And she should burn all of those fucking twee newsboy caps while she's at it. Hateful things. And speaking of hateful things, here comes Hateful New Quinn to babble something unimportant about a tertiary character we've yet to meet, and then, after yet another last-minute pep talk from New Finn -- this one accompanied by a big sloppy wet one that somehow manages to elicit the ire of New Puck -- the children of The New New Directions...

By Demian

...take the stage for this evening's grand finale, which is of course "You're The One That I Want." It starts out as a standard cover version and continues in that ponderous, shot-by-shot way until about midway through, when the camera spins around to take a sudden dive into Idiot Rachel's face out there in the audience, and here's where the acid kicks in: The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway evidently recasts the entire finale in her head with members of The Old New Directions and, after a brief flashback to the very first episode, The Old New Directions finish things up with The Horrible Hooker and Bloaty The Gravy Clown taking over the leads from their younger counterparts while Brit-Brit, Santana, St. Gay, Dreamboat Blaine, Single-T Tina, Gaylord Wiener, Mercedes, and Artie pair off appropriately in the background to provide backup, even though I don't think Artie and Mercedes ever got it on with each other. Not that I care. I'm just saying that Miss Rachel's memory of prior seasons' events might be a little different from ours. Also -- and much as I am loath to admit this -- Old Finn And Rachel sound way better on this song than New Finn And Rachel do. Dammit.

In any event, the actual cast's curtain call in the here-and-now snaps Idiot Rachel out of her batshit reverie, and she quickly flees The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion in near tears to scuttle into The Novak, where she places a hasty call to Dean Geyer in New York. Unfortunately for her, Drunk Kate Hudson's already deployed phase three of her earlier-concocted plan for revenge by banging Dean Geyer, and it is Drunk Kate Hudson herself who answers Dean Geyer's cell phone. Yeah, I know I said in the recaplet that she "may or may not" have banged Dean Geyer, but that was before I noticed that his phone's sitting to his watch, so unless Drunk Kate Hudson swiped both of those personal items while Dean Geyer was otherwise busy being shirtless in the rehearsal room a couple of scenes ago, I'm pretty sure she actually did him. And who, frankly, can blame her?

By Demian

But I'm veering away from the point of this scene, so: Long story short, Drunk Kate Hudson loudly revels in every last detail of her earlier-concocted plan for revenge, then Muah-Ha-Has! like the excellent boozy villainess she is until Idiot Rachel finally cuts the call short to ugly-cry into the depths of her ugly top. Shut up, Rachel. You totally had that one coming.

And when it's over, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway emerges from The Novak to find Bloaty The Gravy Clown more-or-less waiting for her out in the hall. He begins by gently chiding her for missing the curtain call, but he quickly switches gears once he realizes she's been ugly-crying into her now snot-streaked top, and OH MY GOD I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID FUCKING RELATIONSHIP ISSUES. Assholes. At some point, they break up -- again, some more -- and then both Dreamboat Blaine and St. Gay Of Lima arrive on the scene to carp and whine about their stupid fucking relationship issues that I don't care about, and once they break up -- again, SOME MORE -- Idiot Rachel and St. Gay finally -- finally -- flounce off back to New York. Let's hope they stay there this time.

Music Room. Mr. Schue and Artie have gathered the children of The New New Directions -- plus Frankenteen, of course -- to regale them with a glowing insta-review of the musical that Artie found online somewhere, and when that's all over and done with, Mr. Schue stands to offer them all a teary -- albeit temporary -- farewell. Yaaaaaaaawn.

And when that's all over and done with, Will and Bloaty The Gravy Clown excuse themselves to the hallway, where they exchange a couple of more personal goodbyes, and then everything...just sort of fizzles out, actually.

That certainly felt pointless.

week: Some cracked-out and bizarre superhero bullshit. Happy Thanksgiving!

Demian can no longer stand to watch the original Grease because John Travolta is disgusting. Oddly enough, though, he has no problems with Hairspray. You may reach him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.