Finn Hudson's dead -- in fact, he died nearly a month ago -- and Mr. Schue has decided to hold a week of memorial performances in his honor at the McKinley High music room. A number of Frankenteen's former peers return from their new lives to participate, including Santana Lopez, Gaylord Wiener, St. Gay Of Lima, Mercedes Jones, Old Puck and Old Idiot Rachel, with each of them coping with Finn's sudden loss in a variety of ways that are equally difficult to watch, either because bits of real life start hemorrhaging into this fictional piece of televisual entertainment or because the script the actors were handed to play pretty much sucks. (Notable in her absence during all of this is Quinn Fabray, though I think everyone knows by now that Dianna Agron is never coming back to this show, ever, because Ryan Murphy hates her with the fiery passion of a thousand blazing suns for whatever bizarre and most likely melodramatic reason.)
For once, the adults on this show don't find themselves completely ignored, and we get a few chances to see how Congressman Hummel, Denim Carole, Emma Pillsbury-Schuester, Sue Sylvester, Coach Beiste and Will himself are faring in the aftermath of recent events. Actually, now that I think about it that sentence should read, "For once, the adults on this show don't find themselves completely ignored, and we get a few very welcome chances to see how Mike O'Malley, Romy Rosemont, Jayma Mays, Jane Lynch, Dot-Marie Jones and Matthew Morrison rise above the always-iffy material they've been given to deliver performances that are quite often genuinely touching in so many different ways." And that's pretty much all I have to say about that. For now.
Featuring "Seasons Of Love" from Rent, as performed by The New New Directions along with many of their Old counterparts; The Pretenders' "I'll Stand By You," as performed by Mercedes; James Taylor's "Fire and Rain," as performed by Artie and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen; The Band Perry's "If I Die Young," as performed by Santana Lopez; Bruce Springsteen's "No Surrender," as performed by Old Puck; and Adele's version of Bob Dylan's "Make You Feel My Love," as performed by The Grief-Stricken Hooker Of Broadway.
Think you've got game? Prove it! Check out Games Without Pity, our new area featuring trivia, puzzle, card, strategy, action and word games -- all free to play and guaranteed to help pass the time until your show starts.
We begin in darkness as the opening piano chords of "Seasons Of Love" from Rent strike the soundtrack, then follow three spotlights as they travel across the stage in The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion until they land on last year's five principal additions to the show's cast. The new versions of Finn, Quinn, Mercedes, Rachel, and Puck begin the song itself on their own, each appropriately attired in a mournful black, though to be honest with you, only Unique appears particularly walloped by grief, here. I'd wonder what that signifies, but -- spoiler alert! -- these kids pretty much disappear for the rest of the episode after this opening scene, so maybe stick a pin in that for now, and we'll see if it develops into something later in the season.
Spoiler alert, part two: It's totally not going to develop into something later in the season, but I figured I might as well point it out.
In any event, the initial five are soon joined by the four elder members of The New New Directions, and as you'd expect, Tina, Artie, Sam, and Blaine all seem a bit more deeply connected to the song's message, but it's not until the group parts to reveal the Famous Original versions of Santana, Kurt, Mercedes, and Puck (oh, and Gaylord Wiener, too) that things get really sad and depressing. And not just because Mark Salling looks like he's about forty-five years old at this point. In case you haven't guessed by now, this melancholy gathering of The Old New Directions and The New New Directions is meant to mark the untimely passing of Finn Hudson, and before you ask why Famous Original Quinn isn't there, or Brittany, or Old Idiot Rachel (or Sugar Motta, or Lauren Zizes, or The Leprechaun, or even Butt Munch from way back in Season 1), I'll answer that question for you: I have no idea. Well, I have a couple of ideas, but let's not veer off into any unnecessary digressions so early in the episode, okay? Good.
So, the Famous Originals materialize to step forward and assume rightful control for the remainder of the song, with Mercedes of course handling most of the heavy lifting, and while I'm not a fan of Rent (I can go look at deadbeat hipsters on the street for free, you know) and while I'm not a fan of this song from Rent in particular, I've got to admit this opening number is well done, even if does feel a tad bit rushed. Did they really have to hack forty seconds off the full recording? No. No, they didn't, and -- spoiler alert, part three! -- it's one of my major problems with the episode as a whole. Even here, during a tribute episode to one of the show's major characters, they felt the need to hack down the songs in favor of...what, exactly? More crappily written dialogue? To have more plot and character points that come out of nowhere? All of which mean absolutely nothing because they therefore have no context? That are certain to disappear forever the instant this evening's presentation is over? Whatever, Glee.
When it's over, The One True Santana Lopez retreats to The Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High to tack a few Missing Jacket flyers to the walls. "That's a pretty hefty reward," Mr. Schue observes, eying the promise of ten thousand dollars to whoever returns the thing unmolested. "It's not a reward," Santana snaps back. "It's bait -- I'm gonna kick the crap out of whoever brings that jacket back," she promises, "and I want it back before I go home." "'Home' meaning...?" Mr. Schue leads. "New York," Santana replies, adding, "I'm not coming back here for a while." "More than a while," she amends, before finally admitting, "Maybe never." "I used to love coming here," she confesses, "but now this just reminds me of everything that I've lost." And no slam on Naya Rivera, here, because this little bit is probably her best scene all evening, but once again I find myself thinking that all of this would make more sense coming from Quinn. But whatever -- it is what it is, and as Santana starts in with the crying again, Mr. Schue pulls her into a hug.
Meanwhile, out on the lawn, Incredibly Old Puck's just now finished replanting the memorial tree he ripped out by the roots earlier in the episode, and as he and Coach Beiste crack open a couple of soft drinks to celebrate, Incredibly Old Puck wonders, "So, what do you think? Fifty years from now, when this tree is thirty feet tall and kids come to make out under it, will they know who it was planted for?" "Probably not," Coach Beiste replies, and God love her for that bit of honesty. The two chat some more, and the upshot of it all is this: Incredibly Old Puck is joining the Air Force, and Mark Salling is officially off this show for good. And as Incredibly Old Puck roars off on his motorcycle for the very last time, Coach Beiste bends to note he's carved "QUARTERBACK" in positively enormous letters down one side of the sapling's trunk, so I'm pretty sure that tree's going to be dead in two or three weeks. Way to go, Noah.
McKinley High Music Room, and let's start wrapping this up. After another intensely uncomfortable scene during which we watch as Lea Michele mourns her real-life boyfriend for our at-home viewing pleasure, Old Idiot Rachel presents Mr. Schue with a new plaque for the music room wall. It's a photograph of Famous Original Finn, of course, with the following quote inscribed beneath it: "The show must go...all over the place...or something." That's from this episode, by the way, though I apparently didn't find it amusing enough at the time to include it in the recap. The camera lingers on Famous Original Finn's face for a moment.
We cut to Chez Schue, where we watch as the gentleman of the house lets himself in through the front door. Will settles down on the sofa, digs through his briefcase for a moment or two, and pulls out...Famous Original Finn's letterman jacket! Dun-dun-DUN! Will promptly bursts into tears at the mere sight of the thing, and he quickly turns into a blubbering wad of snot-streaked grossness right there on the couch, weeping and sobbing and gnashing his teeth. When Emma finally arrives home to find her teary-eyed mess of a husband with his face buried in one of his former students' letterman jackets, she cracks open the Yellow Pages to start looking for another divorce attorney, because this shit has officially gone too fucking far. Having the rotting corpse stowed away in the crafts room would have been less creepy than what we got here. God, this show. This awful, awful show.
up…baseball! No new episodes until November 7th! Have fun!
Demian will not be watching the baseball, but he plans to have fun, anyway. You may reach him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.
Anyway, I'd indulge in an actual analysis of the song, I'm sure (why does Old Puck get the "bridges he burned" line, for example?) but we all know from past experience how useless that would be, so I'll simply note how short Darren Criss looks when you throw him into a lineup with all of his fellow cast members, and then skip to the end. The characters, who had spread themselves out across the front of the stage in a clear imitation of the original's blocking, now rejoin in the center to sing their final lines to the large image of Famous Original Finn in jock drag that's now being projected against the back wall. Title card.
By the way, the "L" in tonight's title card has been replaced by a silhouette of Famous Original Finn with his arm in the air from the premiere's version of "Don't Stop Believin'." Just so you know. And just to remind us all of the highs this show's not likely to hit ever again, apparently.
Cut to My Ancestral Homeland for a lengthy, exposition-filled, monotone voiceover from St. Gay of Lima, who's wearing a $300 shirt, because busboys make bank at theme diners in Midtown, apparently. Long story short, it's been three weeks since Famous Original Finn's untimely demise, and Mr. Schue has summoned various former Glee Clubbers back to Lima for a "special memorial." It's unclear if Old Idiot Rachel will be attending, as she evidently drew the curtain on her sleeping nook in The Improbably Bohemian Loft the instant she received the horrible news about her ex-boyfriend from high school, and she apparently hasn't emerged since. Where that leaves the Funny Girl revival, I don't know, but as that particular development from last week is never mentioned this evening, I suppose I shouldn't even bother wondering about it.
I also suppose I shouldn't even bother wondering about Famous Original Finn's cause of death. In what emerged as the most contentious bit of St. Gay's voiceover, here, Kurt admits, "Everyone wants to talk about how he died," before defiantly scoffing, "But who cares? One moment in his whole life -- I care more about how he lived, and anyone who has a problem with that should remember that he was my brother." Well, no, he was your stepbrother, and he's only been that for about three years, and I don't seem to recall you having much contact with him after graduation pushed the two of you in radically different directions a year and a half ago, but I can let all that slide, because grief does weird things to people. However, refusing to let the audience in on what is really quite a major plot point? Not cool, honey. Not cool.
In any event, as St. Gay heads off to LaGuardia, he vows, "I'm going to spend my entire life missing him," and then we get kicked over to...
...the McKinley High teachers' lounge, where a ragged-looking Emma's just now explaining, "I cleared my entire schedule to provide my services to students and faculty, and not a single person's come in for grief counseling." I'd argue that doesn't say much for Famous Original Finn's standing in the general McKinley High community, but the just-arriving Principal Sue has other ideas. "Maybe that's because you're not a certified grief counselor," she opines as she pours herself a cup of coffee. "Maybe," she adds in that casually cruel way of hers I love so much, "that's because you're just the jittery, mentally ill bird-lady they turn to to find out what college they won't be attending because they missed the application deadline."
"If students wish to mourn Finn's passing," Principal Sue announces, "they're free to visit the memorial garden I erected in the exact location where I caught Finn and Quinn Fabray fondling each other's breasts." Hee! For some reason, Will fails to find the humor in that, and instead frowns with his entire face as he complains, "C'mon, Sue!" "How can you even joke at a time like this?" Coach Beiste agrees. "Take it easy, post-op Michael Chiklis," Principal Sue replies. "I'm grieving," she assures them, "and I grieve by insulting those who mean the most to me. It's just a coincidence that it's also what I do when I'm not grieving." And I'm pretty sure that I, for one, wholeheartedly approve of that strategy on this show.
Emma sighs about things seeming "so surreal" at the moment, and a brief bout of generalized mourning ensues amongst the lesser staff until Principal Sue asserts, "We honor Finn Hudson by taking care of the people he loved, and the way we do that? By helping them to move on." "How?" Emma bleakly wonders. "By not making a self-serving spectacle of our own sadness," is Principal Sue's answer, and would that so many would have taken her advice over the last couple of months. Of course, that means we wouldn't have this evening's episode. Make of that what you will.
Cut to the music room, where Mr. Schue's just now scrawling "FINN" upon his trusty whiteboard. St. Gay of Lima, Mercedes, The One True Santana Lopez, Gaylord Wiener, and Very Old Puck have joined the current members of The New New Directions up in the cheap seats, and after Mr. Schue takes a moment to welcome them back, he announces that for the week, anyone can sing anything that reminds them of Famous Original Finn, and for any reason. "Singing won't bring him back!" Very Old Puck angrily points out, and Mr. Schue has absolutely no choice but to agree with him. "But," Mr. Schue adds, "for two minutes or so, we can all maybe remember the best parts of him." Mercedes would like to get things started immediately, thank you very much, and she crosses to the piano to whisper something into Tinkles's ear, and yes, I thought Tinkles hated each and every single one of these demeaning little nitwits, so no, I don't know why he's back in the music room, but then again: Grief does weird things to people, so maybe we should all just let this one slide, too, okay?
Anyway, Mercedes steps to the middle of the floor and, after a brief introduction regarding her selection's provenance in the world of this show, she eases herself into her version of The Pretenders' "I'll Stand By You." And while I could have done without the bit where everyone else in the room joins in to croon some easy-listening backup once Mercedes starts whaling on the number's closing bars, it's a perfectly nice, straightforward cover of a truly excellent song, so I have little to complain about.
"Sweet, gentle Porcelain," Principal Sylvester opens in her office. "I know you were instrumental in raising the funds for the tree in the memorial garden in Finn's honor." St. Gay of Lima squints at her for a second, then blinks, "All I did was drive to Home Depot and buy a tree for twenty dollars, but...yes." "Well," Principal Sylvester sighs, "it looks like we're gonna have to dip into your West Village Halloween Parade Assless Chap Fund once again." "The tree's gone," she explains. "Someone's vandalized the memorial." DUN!
Cut to someone who is obviously Very Old Puck wrapping a chain around the memorial sapling's skinny trunk under cover of darkness before roaring off into the night on his motorcycle, ripping the tree from the ground by its roots in the process.
"Why would someone do something like that?" St. Gay of Lima cries back in Principal Sylvester's office. "Grief can bring out the irrational in all of us," Principal Sylvester sagely notes. "Sometimes it makes people do very strange things."
Cut to the interior of one of Lima's finest motel rooms, where Incredibly Old Puck stoically munches on an apple while staring at the now-dying sapling, which he's propped up against the room's trash-strewn dresser. Dun-dun-DUN!
"Sometimes," Principal Sylvester continues back in her office, "when people die, we want to hold on to what's left of them to get us through the hard times." I suppose we should all keep that statement in mind once everyone starts going batshit over a missing letterman jacket. Oops! Spoiler alert! Part four! In any event, Principal Sylvester wraps things up by asking for an additional twenty bucks to replace the original tree. St. Gay of Lima hands her a bill positively dripping with attitude.
At Das Hummelhaus, the St. Gay of Lima, his father, and his stepmother have gathered in Famous Original Finn's old bedroom to sort through the stuff Famous Original Finn left behind, including a significant football, a significant lamp, and a soon-to-be-significant letterman jacket.
Both Burt and Kurt have their effective moments during the dialogue that follows. Mike O'Malley in particular really sells an otherwise mawkish speech about hugging the people you love more often, because they might suddenly drop dead from some never-to-be-specified cause, and then you'll have to live with your hideous non-hugging-self's many, many regrets for the rest of your hateful, worthless life, or whatever. But let's be honest here, it was Famous Original Finn's seldom-seen mother absolutely owns this entire scene. The words they give the character to speak are by no means original -- in fact, I'm almost certain the main thrust of Denim Carole's monologue was lifted directly from the current season of Downton Abbey -- but by God, Romy Rosemont completely kills it.
Denim Carole watches calmly enough as St. Gay of Lima wraps himself up in Famous Original Finn's soon-to-be-significant letterman jacket, but when Kurt remarks on the incredible length of Famous Original Finn's arms, Carole's face just falls apart, and she looks back over to her husband as she begins, "I always thought that when I, uh..." She trails off for a moment, then wonders, "How do parents go on when they lose a child?" "You know," she continues, "when I would see that stuff on the news, I'd shut it off because it was just too horrible to think, but I would always think, how do they wake up every day? I mean, how do they breathe? But you do wake up, and for just a second, you forget. And then...oh, you remember, and it's like getting that call again and again, every time. You don't get to stop waking up… you have to keep on being a parent even though you don't get to have a child anymore." Here, she breaks down completely, and Burt and Kurt kneel to embrace her, and yeah, I've got big problems with this episode in general, and yeah, I've even got big problems with this derivative speech in particular, but to hell with it: just give her the Emmy now.
The morning finds St. Gay of Lima standing alone in the McKinley High parking lot, almost defensively swathed in Famous Original Finn's letterman jacket. Incredibly Old Puck lopes over to wonder what gives with "the Banksy loser parade," and the camera reverses to reveal that several badly-dressed extras are currently spray-painting a variety of inspirational messages on a Dumpster. "You're exhausting," St. Gay snipes in Incredibly Old Puck's general direction before refocusing his attention on the Dumpster, because this Dumpster is apparently The Dumpster from the pilot, and as I've suddenly found this entire scene exhausting, I'll skip ahead to the relevant bit: Incredibly Old Puck offers cash money for Famous Original Finn's letterman jacket, but St. Gay Of Lima refuses to part with the thing. Commercials.
The April Rhodes Civic Pavilion. With no introduction, we get tossed into James Taylor's "Fire And Rain," as performed by Artie and Lady Lips Von Bieberhausen for a group of Old and New Glee Clubbers that mysteriously does not include Mercedes, Gaylord Wiener, St. Gay Of Lima, or Incredibly Old Puck, and even though it's been brutally foreshortened for no good reason whatsoever, it's still my favorite performance of the evening, partly because it's just a good song, but mainly because it's so simply done. It's just Artie and Sam harmonizing alone for the most part, with Sam offering accompaniment on his guitar. And when it's over, The One True Santana Lopez races off the stage, likely to prevent herself from bursting into tears.
She ends up in The Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High, where the current students have established an elaborately decorated memorial centered upon Famous Original Finn's old locker, even though Famous Original Finn graduated an entire goddamned year ago, and pity the poor sap who got assigned Famous Original Finn's old locker this school year, but grief does weird things to people -- even a bunch of obvious grief hags who have absolutely no real connection to the dead guy they're putting on a tremendous show of memorializing, here -- so I'm guessing we're just gonna have to let this bit of stupidity slide, too, right, and WHERE THE HELL WAS I?
Oh, yeah: The One True Santana Lopez arrives to pay her respects, and is outraged when New Santana Lopez drops by with her minions on Principal Sylvester's orders to yank all of the elaborate memorial's blazing candles, because FIRE HAZARD, DUUUUUUUUH, and when The One True Santana Lopez appeals to Janitor Figgins to intervene, Janitor Figgins replies like so: "New Santana Lopez is right, Old Santana Lopez! Under the tyrannical jackboot of the Sylvester regime, I'm powerless, and I'm too overcome with Finn Hudson-related grief to fight back!" "This is insane!" The One True Santana Lopez shouts, rather understating the readily apparent if you ask me, and she stomps off down the hall.
"Well, Donna, one of us farted, and I'm about sixty-percent sure it wasn't me!" We've arrived back at Principal Sylvester's office, where the good principal's verbal evisceration of her soon-to-be-fired legacy secretary gets interrupted by the arrival of The One True Santana Lopez, the latter of whom screams, "You have NO RIGHT to take down that memorial!" Principal Sylvester disagrees (quite correctly, I should note) and that's when Santana really loses her shit. "You wanted that memorial gone because you're such a cold-hearted bitch!" Santana howls. "A miserable, self-centered bitch who has spent every waking minute of the past three years trying to make our lives hell! I AM OFFICIALLY OVER IT."
Principal Sylvester, needless to say, does not care for Santana's tone, but Santana's pretty much all, "And what the hell are you gonna do about it, huh? I'm not a student here anymore, so I can finally tell you exactly what I think of you: I have hated you ever since the day I met you! You are a horrible person who never had a nice word to say about Finn Hudson, so don't you dare think for a second that he didn't hate you, too!" It was about this point that I realized this speech makes no sense coming from Santana, even if grief does weird things to people, because the Santana I recall never had very many problems with Sue as a coach or as a role model or as a hilarious example of humanity gone hysterically awry, and in fact, the Santana I recall had a ton of problems with Finn Hudson as...well, just about everything, actually, and I proceeded to realize this speech would more properly have been delivered by Quinn Fabray, but then I remembered that Ryan Murphy hates Dianna Agron for whatever stupid reason. So Quinn Fabray will never deliver this or any other speech on this show ever again, and I subsequently lost all interest in this scene. Long story short, Santana shoves Principal Sylvester into a cabinet, then bolts before Principal Sylvester can call the police on her fabulously firm yet undeniably felonious derriere.
"I had this whole plan," she confides, "to surprise everyone and not be a bitch for once in my life, and say all these nice things about Finn, and then at the last minute, I chickened out." "I even wrote them all down," she notes, unfolding a sheet of paper as St. Gay takes a seat beside her on the stage. "Would you read it to me?" he asks. "I can't," she replies. "It's too embarrassing -- they're, like, really nice." Hee. St. Gay blathers something I'll not be bothering to transcribe about shame, but it's enough to convince Santana to share what she's written, which goes something like this: "When we had sex, Finn never stopped asking me if I was okay the whole time, and he meant it. One time, Becky Jackson left a piece of chocolate birthday cake on my chair, and when I sat on it, it looked like I'd pooped my pants, and so Finn walked behind me 'til I could get out of school, so no one saw my chocolate butt and thought that I'd messed myself." Yeah, and then there was that time he outed you in front of all of your classmates, and that other time when he beat Old Idiot Rachel's filthy whore of a boyfriend senseless in a hotel room. Remember those? The things we actually saw on the actual show? Good times. In any event, the two chat about Famous Original Finn for a little while longer, and when the tears start flowing again for Santana, St. Gay gallantly doffs the letterman jacket and silently places it around her shoulders before exiting into this evening's commercial break.
Back at the McKinley High Music Room, we are once again tossed directly into a musical number with no introduction. This time around, it's Incredibly Old Puck singing a stripped-down acoustic version of Bruce Springsteen's "No Surrender," and I was all ready to throw over the James Taylor and name this my favorite performance of the evening because it's really well done and shockingly character-appropriate, but then I realized they've got poor Mark Salling singing to an empty chair, and my brain nearly exploded because COME ON. Why does this show insist upon shooting itself in the foot like that over and over and over again? Jesus!
When it's over, The One True Santana Lopez comes storming into the music room with a sharp, harsh, "Where is it, Puckerman?" "It's just a tree!" Incredibly Old Puck protests, adding, "I promised Beiste I'd put it back!" "No, not the tree," Santana duhs, "Finn's jacket!" Everybody makes "Whaaaa?" faces, so Santana explains, "I went for a lie-down in the nurse's office, hung it up on the coat rack by her door, and when I woke up from my grief siesta, it was gone!" GASP! Everybody immediately -- and loudly -- blames Incredibly Old Puck for the theft until Mr. Schue's forced to intervene by strenuously insisting that there will be no fighting this week, got it? "¡No me gusta!" Santana spits with a lot of appropriately accusatory finger-pointing as the bell rings, and once everyone else has filed out of the room, Incredibly Old Puck runs to Mr. Schue, pleading his innocence. "I understand wanting the jacket," Mr. Schue replies, "and I'm not saying you took it, but if you did, all I'm gonna say is that all of us want some piece of Finn to keep close to us." Mr. Schue totally went to the graveyard after the funeral and dug up the corpse, didn't he? And now it's sitting at a table in Crazy Terri's old crafts room, and late at night, long after Emma's gone to sleep, Will sneaks in there with a bottle of wine to chat, just like Colin Firth at the end of Apartment Zero, right? I'm so totally right about this.
The One True Santana Lopez arrives at Principal Sylvester's office to apologize for the earlier altercation, but Principal Sylvester just tells her to sit down and shut up because she's got a couple of things to say. Between the speech Jane Lynch proceeds to deliver here and what we've already heard from Romy Rosemont earlier in the hour, I'm gonna have to give the edge in overall effectiveness to this one. "Everything you said?" Principal Sylvester begins. "You were right -- I was horrible to that kid, and I'm utterly destroyed that he died thinking I didn't like him." "Maybe this could be a lesson," Santana suggests, but Principal Sylvester cuts that crap short with a quickness, snarling, "I don't care about that! I don't care about 'people'… I care about him. He was such a good guy, and I'll never get to tell him. There's no lesson here! There's no happy ending… there's just nothing. He's just gone." Santana maintains a respectful silence as Principal Sylvester adds, "I thought I'd spend the thirty years teaching alongside him -- you know, I'd have all the time in the world to rail against him and his dopey little Glee Club. It's just so pointless. All that potential?" Those last few words hang there in the air between the two women as Principal Sylvester flicks a stray tear from her eye. Jane Lynch is so consistently excellent on this show, it's almost frightening.
Oh, and also: "The thirty years"? Hee.
At the Ridiculous Hallway Memorial, various members of The New New Directions kneel to place bedazzled drumsticks atop an ever-growing pile of dreadfully kitschy offerings until Pretty Kitty wisely whispers, "This is sort of cheesy." "No, it's beautiful!" a voice calls from somewhere off-screen, and the camera swings around to reveal...
...The Grief-Stricken Hooker of Broadway, clutching at St. Gay of Lima's arm! Kurt and/or Chris Colfer looks incredibly uncomfortable as Rachel and/or Lea Michele already starts choking back the tears, and thank God for this commercial break, 'cause I'm gonna need a smoke before I deal with whatever exploitative bullshit they're going to throw at us when they return.
McKinley High Music Room, and this bit is just impossible to watch, because it's not The Grief-Stricken Hooker of Broadway mourning her bumbling ex-boyfriend from high school who died under decidedly mysterious circumstances; it's Lea Michele mourning her actual boyfriend who dropped dead from a heroin overdose, and I'm not gonna touch that one. At all. Michele proceeds to perform Adele's arrangement of Bob Dylan's "Make You Feel My Love," and the only criticism I will level against it is this: they should have gone with a live version of the song, rather than have her lipsynch to a prerecorded track, because the vocals I'm hearing don't match up at all with the visuals I'm seeing. Michele starts openly weeping about five bars into the song, and there's no way someone that emotionally wrecked could ever produce a tone so perfect and polished.
When it's over, The One True Santana Lopez retreats to The Hallowed Halls Of Dear McKinley High to tack a few Missing Jacket flyers to the walls. "That's a pretty hefty reward," Mr. Schue observes, eying the promise of ten thousand dollars to whoever returns the thing unmolested. "It's not a reward," Santana snaps back. "It's bait -- I'm gonna kick the crap out of whoever brings that jacket back," she promises, "and I want it back before I go home." "'Home' meaning...?" Mr. Schue leads. "New York," Santana replies, adding, "I'm not coming back here for a while." "More than a while," she amends, before finally admitting, "Maybe never." "I used to love coming here," she confesses, "but now this just reminds me of everything that I've lost." And no slam on Naya Rivera, here, because this little bit is probably her best scene all evening, but once again I find myself thinking that all of this would make more sense coming from Quinn. But whatever -- it is what it is, and as Santana starts in with the crying again, Mr. Schue pulls her into a hug.
Meanwhile, out on the lawn, Incredibly Old Puck's just now finished replanting the memorial tree he ripped out by the roots earlier in the episode, and as he and Coach Beiste crack open a couple of soft drinks to celebrate, Incredibly Old Puck wonders, "So, what do you think? Fifty years from now, when this tree is thirty feet tall and kids come to make out under it, will they know who it was planted for?" "Probably not," Coach Beiste replies, and God love her for that bit of honesty. The two chat some more, and the upshot of it all is this: Incredibly Old Puck is joining the Air Force, and Mark Salling is officially off this show for good. And as Incredibly Old Puck roars off on his motorcycle for the very last time, Coach Beiste bends to note he's carved "QUARTERBACK" in positively enormous letters down one side of the sapling's trunk, so I'm pretty sure that tree's going to be dead in two or three weeks. Way to go, Noah.
McKinley High Music Room, and let's start wrapping this up. After another intensely uncomfortable scene during which we watch as Lea Michele mourns her real-life boyfriend for our at-home viewing pleasure, Old Idiot Rachel presents Mr. Schue with a new plaque for the music room wall. It's a photograph of Famous Original Finn, of course, with the following quote inscribed beneath it: "The show must go...all over the place...or something." That's from this episode, by the way, though I apparently didn't find it amusing enough at the time to include it in the recap. The camera lingers on Famous Original Finn's face for a moment.
We cut to Chez Schue, where we watch as the gentleman of the house lets himself in through the front door. Will settles down on the sofa, digs through his briefcase for a moment or two, and pulls out...Famous Original Finn's letterman jacket! Dun-dun-DUN! Will promptly bursts into tears at the mere sight of the thing, and he quickly turns into a blubbering wad of snot-streaked grossness right there on the couch, weeping and sobbing and gnashing his teeth. When Emma finally arrives home to find her teary-eyed mess of a husband with his face buried in one of his former students' letterman jackets, she cracks open the Yellow Pages to start looking for another divorce attorney, because this shit has officially gone too fucking far. Having the rotting corpse stowed away in the crafts room would have been less creepy than what we got here. God, this show. This awful, awful show.
up…baseball! No new episodes until November 7th! Have fun!
Demian will not be watching the baseball, but he plans to have fun, anyway. You may reach him at demian_twop@yahoo.com.