Welcome back! So, anything interesting happen over the summer? No need to answer that question right this very instant, of course -- after all, we've got lots and lots and lots of time to catch each other up on various recent events over the couple of weeks, am I right? Of course I'm right. So, let's get to it:
In Ohio: Even though we're still in the middle of last season's school year -- which means it's supposed to be January, mind you, in Ohio -- Dreamboat Blaine invites his Brooklyn-based ex-boyfriend out onto the McKinley High Lanai for a little light luncheon, during which the ever-suffering St. Gay of Lima agrees to possibly perhaps consider maybe dating his hometown honey again. Maybe. Dreamboat Blaine, of course, decides this means St. Gay would have zero problems accepting that engagement ring they so heavily teased the last time we saw all of these bozos, so he enlists the aid of the remaining kiddies in The New New Directions plus various members of such past Glee Club rivals as The Dalton Academy Swallows, Carmel High's Vocal Adrenaline and the gang at The Haverbrook School For The Deaf for the massive blowout of a proposal he's pretty much been planning from the moment St. Gay initially broke up with him last October. Fortunately for absolutely no one but Dreamboat Blaine, St. Gay accepts.
In New York: Old Idiot Rachel arrives at her Funny Girl callback to discover the revival's being directed by a heretofore unseen Peter Facinelli. Rather than spinning immediately on her pert little heel to walk -- nay, fly away from what's certain to be a theatrical disaster of utterly epic proportions, she instead remains to read through a few playful little scenes with her supposed Nicky Arnstein, and to say it does not go well might be something of an understatement. Undeterred, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway later confronts her would-be director and costar under the most contrived of circumstances, but by episode's end, it remains unclear whether the part is hers or not.
In Other News: Pretty Kitty and Artie go public with their relationship that I totally forgot was happening until just now and still totally don't care about at all, most of the remaining Glee Guys take it upon themselves to rescue Single-T Tina -- again, some more -- from her increasingly embittered ways, and Coach Sylvester successfully connives to replace The Maharishi as McKinley High's acting principal. In other words: Business as usual.
Featuring eight -- eight! -- mainly early-album songs from The Beatles, including "Yesterday," as performed by a lonely Old Idiot Rachel on the cruelly indifferent streets of New York; "Drive My Car," as performed by Artie and Pretty Kitty at a pop-up carnival of some sort; "Got To Get You Into My Life," as performed by St. Gay Of Lima and Dreamboat Blaine amid the balmy wintertime breezes of McKinley High's outdoor plaza; "You've Got To Hide Your Love Away," as again performed by Artie and Pretty Kitty, this time under the foil stars of the school's impressively equipped astronomy laboratory; "Help!," as performed by Dreamboat Blaine and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen whilst traveling approximately 460 miles around the state of Ohio; "A Hard Day's Night," as performed by Old Idiot Rachel and Santana Lopez during those most contrived of circumstances mentioned above; "I Saw Her Standing There," as performed by most of the remaining Glee Guys on the stage of The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion; and "All You Need Is Love," as performed by Dreamboat Blaine and a cast of thousands within the ever-expansive halls of stately Dalton Academy.
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We open on an overhead shot of The Horrible Hooker of Broadway striding down a brilliantly-lit West 44th Street in Manhattan towards The St. James Theatre, where a team of workmen are just now installing a set of temporary banners advertising this show's impending Funny Girl revival. We then cut down to focus in on Old Idiot Rachel's face as she tilts her head back to positively beam up at the theater's freshly-decorated marquee, and if she's at all nervous about the callback she's arrived for, she's showing absolutely no sign of it. Of course, this means she's gonna totally blow her audition straight to hell.
She promptly proceeds to do just that the instant we cut to the theater's interior. The Horrible Hooker's onstage with her presumed Nicky -- an established Tony winner named "Paolo," here portrayed by none other than Horatio Hornblower himself -- reading the early scene where Fanny invites Mr. Arnstein back to her Henry Street digs for a family-and-friends after-party following her Follies debut. Old Idiot Rachel's made the rather unfortunate choice of mimicking Barbra Streisand's line readings from the movie, rather than creating her own interpretation of the role. She barely completes three of her lines before the revival's director -- the heretofore unseen Peter Facinelli, and that's not a good sign at all, because Peter Facinelli sucks -- calls a halt to the proceedings with a calculatedly even-sounding, "Thank you, Rachel. That was lovely." Horatio Hornblower shoots Peter Facinelli a look and hastily retreats to a nearby chair to fiddle intently with his trusty product-placed smartphone. Meanwhile, Rachel's confidence visibly collapses before our very eyes, and she squeaks out a weak little, "That's it?" "All I needed to see," Peter Facinelli replies, dismissively enough. To her credit, Rachel quickly regains her composure and crosses to thank Horatio Hornblower for his time and talent, then further diminishes her already minuscule professional stature in the eyes of her would-be costar by gushing all over his recent appearance in a revival of Camelot like some batshit fangirl.
And with so much damage thus so efficiently done to her chances of ever winning a role in this particular revival, Old Idiot Rachel retires upstairs to the theater's green room. It's there her evidently supernatural sense of hearing picks up the following exchange from the gentlemen down below as they exit towards the lobby: "What do you think?" "She's charming, and she certainly looks right for the part -- I just feel that she's too young, you know? Too green?" "That's my concern, as well -- the lack of experience? It's such a risk." "At her age, I never could have pulled it off -- now, where did we leave it with Claire Danes's people?" D'OH!
By now most thoroughly miserable, The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway blinks back a few incipient Tears Of Abject Melancholy before launching into her lonely version of The Beatles' "Yesterday" because -- lack of proper Broadway-level performing experience or not -- Our Dear Old Idiot Rachel is nothing if not a tremendous drama queen. Seriously, as she woefully warbles out the song's opening line, I want to scream, "You're eighteen years old! What the hell do you know about trouble and regret?! SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU INFANT!"
ANY-way, Old Idiot Rachel's woeful warbling eventually pulls her from the theater itself out onto the cold and indifferent streets of New York, where she wanders along past Sardi's and The Shubert for a bit before magically teleporting herself onto The Mall in Central Park, which is evidently the perfect place for her to hide away after her late humiliation. Her ongoing ramble then takes her past The Bethesda Fountain before depositing her on The Bow Bridge -- the scene, as you'll no doubt recall, of an especially happy moment in her past -- and she stares at a photo of the original New Directions (minus Quinn, of course, because Ryan Murphy and Dianna Agron hate each other) on her trusty product-placed smartphone for a bit before retreating to the relative privacy of...
...The Improbably Bohemian Bushwick Loft, where she finishes this thoroughly morose opening sequence by staring forlornly at her reflection in a mirror until that reflection's swallowed up by this evening's title card.
...this evening's musical number, which happens to be "Drive My Car," which also happens to be one of my least favorite Beatles songs ever, so color me considerably surprised by how much fun the subsequent montage can be at points. Yeah, sure, they literalize the song's title just a wee bit too heavily once we hop on over to the promised carnival, where Pretty Kitty actually drives Artie's actual (bumper) car for a bit, merrily smashing into other Glee Club kiddies as they all lip-synch to the prerecorded track, but everybody seems to be having a grand old time, and that counts for a lot. Besides, the visual of Artie riding the Round Up while still strapped into his wheelchair is pretty amusing -- and it sort of supports Kitty's earlier implication regarding how little toothless carnies care about their customers' safety. Heh.
And when it's over, Pretty Kitty happily wheels Artie through the fairgrounds until she finds herself confronted by a Cheerio of color whom I'm just gonna go ahead and call "New Santana" until told otherwise. Well, actually, I'm just gonna go ahead and call her "New Santana" for the duration of her tenure on this hateful show because: Obviously. Obviously. Long story short, New Santana bitchily congratulates Pretty Kitty and Artie on their burgeoning romance, then too-casually directs their attention to the Instagram album she's just now established in their honor before waltzing off with a couple of her minions in tow. Pretty Kitty calls up said Instagram album on her trusty product-placed smartphone to find the first photo's been captioned "Beauty And The Gimp," and she immediately proposes the following to the mostly-clueless Artie, who asks "What if we go out, but we do it on the down low -- you know, like secretly gay conservatives? It'll make everything all fun and forbidden!" "So, you like me," Artie guesses, "but you don't want to be seen with me?" "I need status at this school to survive," Kitty shrugs by way of explanation. Artie reluctantly agrees to Kitty's conditions for dating him, and because I am constitutionally incapable of giving a single solitary crap about any part of this bullshit romantic subplot, we'll be moving things along, here.
Cut to a New York City bus, upon which we find both The One True Santana Lopez and The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway, each wearing a kicky little red mini-skirted waitress uniform with matching knee-high vinyl go-go boots. During the extensive babbling that follows once they've alighted at their stop, we learn that since we last saw her, The One True Santana bid farewell to slinging drinks at Coyote Ugly and said hello to slinging hash at a touristy theme restaurant called "The Spotlight Diner," and wouldn't you know it? Santana's managed to snag a spot on the café's staff for Old Idiot Rachel, too! Even though she basically had to "show [her] left side-boob" to her boss, Gunther, in order to do so. "Don't tell him if you're Jewish or black," Santana whispers in Rachel's ear as Gunther comes barreling out of the kitchen on cue to berate them for their tardiness, or something. Rachel -- clearly flustered due to, oh, never having had to hold down an actual job in her entire goddamned life before -- natters something I'm not going to bother to transcribe regarding Patti LuPone and Making It On My Own, and SHUT UP, RACHEL, and with that, we whisk our way back to...
...Ohio, where we find Dreamboat Blaine and St. Gay of Lima enjoying a little light luncheon on The McKinley High Lanai. "So, are you excited to go back to school?" Dreamboat Blaine opens. "Yeah!" St. Gay enthusiastically replies, adding, "Fashion Week's coming up!" And here's the exact point where I stopped listening to what they were saying to each other in favor of listening to my own head explode, because the only New York Fashion Week that falls in the middle of a school year is this New York Fashion Week, which means this scene is taking place in late January, which I now realize is impossible because this episode took place on Valentine's Day and this episode covered The New York City Ballet's spring fundraising gala, and what month are we in now, huh? WHAT FUCKING GODDAMNED MONTH IS THIS, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE?
You don't have to actually answer that question for me. Partly because I already know that you don't know the answer any better than I do, but mainly because it was rhetorical. Now, shall we continue? Excellent.
So, Dreamboat Blaine and St. Gay of Lima witter away at each other for a very lengthy period of time regarding the current state of their relationship, and because I am constitutionally incapable of giving a single solitary crap about any part of this bullshit romantic subplot, either, I'll be cutting to the chase: Dreamboat Blaine and St. Gay of Lima agree to start dating each other again. Yawn. Naturally, they seal their re-commitment to each other with a musical number right out there in the middle of The McKinley High Lanai -- much to the initial befuddlement of their fellow students, all of whom should be used to this specific brand of extra-special magical fuckery at this point, because come on -- and in this case, that musical number just so happens to be "Got To Get You Into My Life," which is a song about pot. So...hooray? For them? I guess?
St. Gay opens the number by summoning The McKinley High Marching Band, which makes sense given the original track's heavy reliance upon its horn section, but frankly, this whole marching band thing worked way better the first time I saw it on this show. In any event, the boys prance around and around for a couple of minutes, shouting the lyrics into each other's faces until the time comes for them to cap it all off with a sloppy wet smooch atop one of The McKinley High Lanai's numerous tables, which they do right before we head into this evening's first commercial break.
"America," everyone's favorite tracksuit-ed sociopath announces via voice-over the instant the break ends, "your prayers have been answered -- Sue Sylvester is back at McKinley!" Now, this is a storyline I could care about. Maybe. Let's listen in as Sue's voiceover offers the following explanation for her completely expected return to The Hallowed Halls of Dear McKinley High, shall we? "Sure, I enjoyed my time away, but once Becky Jackson fessed up and started serving her month-long suspension, the school begged me to return." So, there's that bit of horrific stupidity dealt with, I suppose. "But I knew if I was gonna come back," Sue's voiceover continues, paying me no mind at all, "I had to come back big time -- in a -level way." At this point, some anonymous student interrupts what had been Coach Sylvester's entirely unmolested slow-motion progression through The Hallowed Halls of McKinley High with an unbearably chipper, "Welcome back, Coach Sylvester!" Sue stops dead in her tracks, lowers her sunglasses, and levels her gaze upon the chirpy bit to intone, "That's Principal Sylvester!" This oughta be good.
Cut to an obvious flashback -- there's no sideways smear, but we get it -- of Sue picking the lock to The Lair of the Maharishi. "I broke into Figgins' office," Sue's voiceover narrates, "and planted incriminating evidence of every conceivable variety: Gambling receipts. Porno mags. Gay porno mags. Gay foot fetish porno mags. A polygamous marriage certificate, a bill of sale granting campus drilling rights to a fracking company, and an autographed copy of Mein Kampf." We get a shot of each item mentioned in Sue's list, of course, and most amusing is the fact that the gay porno mag's cover features prominent teasers for articles on gay-friendly restaurants and jazz clubs. Hee.
Inter-cut with above are scenes of the local police arriving to escort a loudly protesting Maharishi from the building, and the sequence culminates with Sue herself graciously allowing, "Well, Superintendent Harris, I have to say I'm truly humbled." "We're in a pinch, here, Coach," Superintendent Harris responds as The Maharishi's screams echo away down the hall, "and you're a proven champion -- you've led this school before as interim principal, and if all goes well? After a few months, I see no reason why this position shouldn't become permanent." Sue smiles, evilly.
...the music room, where Dreamboat Blaine has A Very Special Announcement to make: "As most of you know, [St. Gay of Lima] and I are officially back together!" Generalized whooping and hollering erupts from the cheap seats, because of course it does, and once it's died down a bit, Dreamboat Blaine continues like so: "What most of you don't know -- and this is top secret -- is that I'm going to ask [St. Gay of Lima] to marry me!" A shocked and uneasy silence greets this bit of news, and I would say it's because all of those present remember the clusterfuck that ensued the last time two of their number decided to get married while they were still in high school, but then I remember that most of these idiots weren't even around a year and a half ago, so I absolutely must assume that everyone else -- even Stupid Boring New Idiot Rachel, for Christ's sake -- understands what a deeply, brutally dumb idea this is. Well, everyone else except Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, that is, the latter of whom presently leaps to his feet to maniacally applaud Dreamboat Blaine's dreadful decision, but I think after last season we can all agree that Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen is a certifiable moron, so let's ignore his dimwitted ass, shall we? Besides, he looks like he hasn't bathed since May, so whatever.
Anyway, where the hell was I? Oh, yes. Because Dreamboat Blaine wants this to be "more than an ordinary proposal" -- because, in fact, he means it to be "a cultural statement" -- he intends to enlist the aid of such longtime New Directions rivals as Dalton Academy, Carmel High, and The Haverbrook School for the Deaf for what promises to be a super-gay gay marriage proposal musical extravaganza. "If we can get a bunch of cutthroat show choirs to stand side-by-side and unite in something," Dreamboat Blaine reasons, "then anything is possible!" So, are the other guys in, or what? Not exactly, with Single-T Tina voicing the loudest and most strident opposition to the entire plan, so Dreamboat Blaine has little choice but to...
...launch himself into this evening's production number! That number is, of course, "Help!," during which we travel first from McKinley to Carmel, where Dreamboat Blaine and his merry band of idiots have little trouble persuading Vocal Adrenaline's exceptionally athletic members to join them on their ridiculous trek across the great state of Ohio, and thence on through both Haverbrook and Dalton, with the exact same result at each of the subsequent schools. And yes, it's peppy and bright and high-energy and somewhat endearing and all that, and God knows the song itself is fun as hell, but over the course of the sequence, I found myself thinking, "Okay, so Lima to Akron is about 150 miles, and Akron to Dayton is another 200, and Dayton to Westerville is another hundred, and Westerville back to Lima is another hundred, so why didn't these motherfuckers just call? Jackasses."
We return from tonight's commercial break to land back in The Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High just in time to watch Single-T Tina confront Artie about his secret relationship with Pretty Kitty, and...nope! Still not giving a crap. !
Café Contrivance. The One True Santana Lopez sidles up to Old Idiot Rachel atop the diner's rickety-looking balcony area and directs her attention towards one of the booths on the floor below. Why? Because out of all of the available dining establishments in Midtown, Peter Facinelli and Horatio Hornblower just happened to select this very one for the latest of their pre-production lunches. D'OH! "I got this," The Horrible Hooker of Broadway more-or-less assures The One True Santana Lopez, and no, she doesn't. She really, really doesn't. Know how I can tell? She marches straight up to the gentlemen in question and proceeds to confirm through her petulant and childish attitude every single misgiving these two gentlemen expressed about hiring her all the way back at the top of the hour. That's how. And then, just to make matters worse, Old Idiot Rachel hurls herself into this evening's blowout production number, a shrill version of "Hard Day's Night" that does no favors at all for anyone involved -- including, I am very sad to say, Santana Lopez, who willingly joins in to offer backup at several key moments along with every single other goddamn employee in the restaurant. It's just so...noisy -- both visually and aurally -- that I have zero desire to re-watch it ever again, so I think I'm just gonna skip through to the end.
Ah, that's better. And once the migraine has passed, both The One True Santana Lopez and The Horrible Hooker of Broadway bail on the diner in the middle of their shift, because making a dramatic exit is more important than paying the rent for these assholes, apparently. Also: Commercials!
Principal Sylvester's Office. Coach Roz Washington and Will Schuester huddle together in the guest chairs, frantically wondering how Principal Sue's going to screw them over . Naturally, Will's certain he's Principal Sue's primary target, but Black Sue has more than a few issues of her own to worry about. "I took her job, remember?" she snaps at Will before adding with a dramatically self-pitying sigh, "I just know she's dug up all kinds of dirt on me." "What kind of dirt?" Will, because he's a nosy bitch, prompts. "Number one," Black Sue replies without hesitation, because she's an idiot, "this bronze damn Olympic medal in Individual Synchronized Swimming I won at them Chinese Olympics? May have been the result of some performance-enhancing drugs and weed." Will nods all faux-sympathetically, silently encouraging her to go on, so Black Sue foolishly continues, "Number two: I may have perpetrated a buttload of credit card fraud, an old lady in Florida may have paid for my condo, and I might have just flat-out stole my Lexus off a used car lot!" Way to go, Black Sue. You just handed him enough ammunition to blow your witless ass off the face of the planet when the time comes, you feeb.
For the moment, though, Will simply agrees they're both in rather a bad position, and gripes that Principal Sue will likely "take out both The Glee Club and The Cheerios in one fell swoop." "Oh, now," Principal Sue chides as she sweeps into the room from points elsewhere to take a seat at her desk. "Why on earth would I do something like that, Butt Chin?" "Because you're vindictive and petty!" Will retorts, clearly getting his panties in a wad. "You're forgetting one thing, William," Sue calmly replies. "I have been given the post of interim principal at this school -- a post that will be made permanent at the end of the year if all goes according to plan." And just what would that plan involve, I'm sure I hear you asking right about now? "I need the programs at this school to be successful," Principal Sue emphasizes before adding, "I need the teams at McKinley High to be winners." "You're not firing us?" Will frowns, not quite following Principal Sue's impeccable reasoning just yet. "Not if you win a national championship, I'm not," Principal Sue kindly clarifies, because she knows how slow on the uptake Will can be at times. "However," she warns, "if you fail to win at Nationals, I will fire you, and you'll be forced to build creepy relationships with teenagers on your own time." "Congratulations!" she smiles at both of them. "You're on my watch now, which means you're winners!" Will and Black Sue gawp at each other with something approaching pure terror in their eyes.
McKinley High Music Room. Mr. Schue enters from the hall, already jabbering on and on and on about some supposed life lesson we can all take from The Beatles' early career, and absolutely no one on the screen or in the audience cares about any of his bullshit at all at this point anymore. So it's almost a relief when Single-T Tina interrupts him to complain about the way Pretty Kitty's been treating poor little wheelchair-bound Artie as of late, even though Artie's perfectly capable of managing his affairs by himself, thank you very much. Even though none of this is Single-T Tina's goddamned business in the first place, thank you very much, and even though I am still constitutionally incapable of giving a single solitary crap about any part of this goddamned stupid bullshit romantic subplot, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. So, long story short, Single-T Tina confronts Pretty Kitty about the whole down-low thing, and Pretty Kitty immediately apologizes to everyone for her atrocious behavior while promising never to do it again, ever. Pretty Kitty's actually very sweet about it all, and she delivers a touching -- and lengthy -- speech regarding her true feelings for Artie during the course of her apology, but come on: Do you really want me to waste any more time on a goddamned stupid bullshit romantic subplot that took less than a half an hour to play itself out? I didn't think so. Also: more commercials.
Music Room. For some reason, Dreamboat Blaine has taken it upon himself to rescue Single-T Tina from her bitter, bitter ways -- again, some more -- so he's assembled the remaining Glee Guys to formulate a plan. Well, the remaining Glee Guys minus Artie, of course, because none of the original Beatles were in wheelchairs, and there were only four of them, anyway, so I think you can see where this is going, especially since the four Glee Guys present in this scene just happen to be the four Glee Guys featured in those imitative black-and-white photos we last saw about seven and a half hours ago.
First, though, we must duck outside into the hall, where The Maharishi has just finished buffing the tile to a high shine. Principal Sue presently approaches to tease and taunt, prompting The Maharishi to seethe, "You had better be nice to Donna." Who the hell is Donna? "My long-term secretary," The Maharishi continues, almost as if he actually heard my question. "That woman is a saint," The Maharishi insists, "and she is my rock!" That's nice, but I still don't know who the hell you're talking about, dude. No matter, though, because as soon as Becky returns from her terribly convenient suspension, Principal Sue intends to fire this saintly Donna person's rock-hard ass and install Miss Jackson in her position.
The Maharishi glowers impotently as Principal Sue roughly sets an industrial-sized bucket of something foul and disgusting down on the freshly-waxed floor. "What is that?" The Maharishi spits. Principal Sue: "That's a five-gallon bucket of expired Grade-D meat slurry the poor kids at this school were forced to eat every Taco Tuesday under the jackboot of that corrupt, decadent regime from which they were recently liberated by one Sue Rodham Sylvester!" "That's not your middle name," The Maharishi mumbles distractedly, so intently focused is he on Principal Sue's bucket of filth. "Oh, yes it is!" Principal Sue practically sings. "I had it legally changed this morning -- now what would you like me to do with this can of rancid horse offal?" Principal Sue gives the bucket a playful little kick. "Noooooooooooooo!" screams The Maharishi, sliding down into a tortured and torturous slow motion as Principal Sue's playful kick upends the bucket, sending a deluge of expired Grade-D meat slurry across The Maharishi's formerly clean floor. "YOU'RE A MONSTER!" The Maharishi howls once again as she glides past him to disappear around a corner, and yes, I realize that scene shouldn't have entertained me as much as it did, but you know what? Compared to the rest of the boring crap they've flung at us this evening, that little bit shone like a jewel. God bless Jane Lynch and Iqbal Theba.
And God bless this show's costuming staff, because they finally got something right tonight. Single-T Tina enters The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion to find the remaining Glee Guys -- minus Artie, of course -- arranged on the stage in Beatles-esque skinny suits and Chelsea boots, and these boys look hot. Well, with the possible exception of Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen, who needs to hem his goddamn pants already, and he still hasn't washed his frigging hair, but whatever. After spending the evening squinting at eye-searing lime green camouflage prints and lemon yellow striped bow ties and neon orange sweater vests and fashion fuchsia coat dresses with fussy little bows all over the fucking place, I'm happy the boys here went for basic black.
Anyway, where the hell was I? Oh, yes. Single-T Tina enters The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion to find the remaining Glee Guys -- minus Artie, of course -- arranged on the stage in Beatles-esque skinny suits and Chelsea boots because they've chosen to save Tina from herself by recreating The Beatles' Ed Sullivan Show performance of "I Saw Her Standing There." Just go with it, because aside from a truly dunder-headed Tina-centric dance break in the middle of the thing that includes little more than a whole lot of spastic jerking from everyone involved, it's probably my favorite number of the evening.
And when it's over, the remaining Glee Guys -- minus Artie and New Puck, of course, both of whom are already spoken for -- offer Single-T Tina their services as arm candy for the prom, because Tina's such a frigging loser that she'd never be able to find a date anywhere else, apparently. For some reason, Tina finds this gesture charming, rather than finding it insulting as all hell, and she selects Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen as her escort to the spring formal, even though I swear to God there are new and exciting species of mold growing in his goddamned hair at this point. Also: More commercials!
Das Hummelfahrzeug. Burt's driving St. Gay of Lima to the latter's surprise proposal, and as I am still constitutionally incapable of giving a single solitary crap about any part of this fucking goddamned stupid bullshit romantic subplot, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, I'm unable to enjoy what seems to be a typically well-acted scene between these two characters. In fact, I find myself unable even to hear a single word they say to each other over the course of the several minutes, so I'll just skip ahead to...
...Dreamboat Blaine's Super-Gay Gay Marriage Proposal Musical Extravaganza, and it is quite seriously the super-gay gay marriage proposal musical extravaganza to end all super-gay gay marriage proposal musical extravaganzas ever. It's a ridiculously romantic romp through the ever-expansive halls of stately Dalton Academy set to the tune of the inevitable "All You Need Is Love," and while the primary focus is of course on Dreamboat Blaine serenading his St. Gay of Lima, it's the cast of thousands swirling around the two boys throughout that really kicks this one over the top. There's something very Golden Age of Hollywood about how overblown it all is, only in this version of all those old musicals, we finally -- finally -- get two guys as the romantic leads who live the Happily Ever After. And that's pretty fantastic, to be honest with you.
(By the way, that cast of thousands foolishly includes Mercedes, Santana, and Rachel, a trio whose presence only serves to make me wonder where the hell Finn is during all of this, but I suppose we'll be dealing with that issue later in the season).
And in the end -- amid a shower of rose petals that seems to cascade down through Dalton's central stairwell from nowhere, no less -- everyone applauds the happy couple, and as far as I'm concerned, they could have ended the episode right there. I mean, of course Kurt's going to say yes after all that, right? Instead, though, we must first listen as Blaine delivers a terribly heartfelt speech, and that's unfortunate, because at one point he veers into whacked-out Shirley MacLaine territory when he starts jabbering effusively about past lives and Capital-F Fate and such, but after the number they just delivered, I think we can overlook this little misstep. And after Kurt accepts, and after Blaine slides the engagement ring onto Kurt's finger, the two kiss as the camera spins, and the applause continues until we finally cut to black.
week: Beatlemania continues. See you then!
Demian can't believe it's goddamned September already. You may reach him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.