The Truth And Nothing But

Call me Couch Baron. I start with that homage because finally, the white whale of Oz that is this episode is being harpooned. Of course, this may come at a heavy price. Sars has convinced me that the reason this episode has remained unrecapped for so long is that there's a curse on it, and so, I can only conclude that by the time you read this, I will be dead. Don't feel too sad for me, though. I've had a good run -- I've managed to recap three shows I really enjoy, and I haven't had to do any crappy reality shows, horrible spinoffs, or worst of all, 7th Heaven. (I hope I don't have to see the Camdens in the afterlife, that's for sure and certain.) So anyway, laugh at my jokes, or I'll scare your cats and make Whoopi Goldberg come talk to you. All clear? Here we go.

The new credits contain a certain "cocktail" being thrown, and a certain fingernail incident, and yet they're about ten times less gross and violent than those of last season. Tom, are you getting soft?

Well, not on me, as the opening shot is of Hill cackling. He says, "Oz," and then so do several other people: McManus, Beecher, Schillinger, Pete, Ryan, a newly bearded Glynn, and Alvarez. Hill cracks up some more, and boy, now that I'm probably dead, if I can find the cloud you're living on, Hill, I'm gonna slap you silly. Behind Hill, a projection of the montage we just saw plays again, including Said at the end, who somehow didn't rate the live version, as Hill tells us that Oz is now called the Oswald State Correctional Facility, but that, despite the new name, he doesn't see any differences among the prisoners, which is a rather ham-handed way for him to exposit some plot points from last season, and since he doesn't tell us anything we're not going to see for ourselves soon enough, I'm going to skip it. I will mention, however, that Adebisi has hair now. Hair, and no hat. Now this is a twist, people. Hill speculates that the dropping of the word "penitentiary" is the state admitting that the prisoners aren't penitent. Um, Hill? If you put any finer a point on that it would take an electron microscope to see it, so why don't you grant a possibly dead man's greatest living wish and SHUT UP.

Press conference. Devlin announces that, in an effort to cut state spending, he's putting certain services in the hands of outside contractors. He tells the reporters that "Weigert," a private managed-care corporation, is taking over health services in the state's prisons. Devlin introduces "Dr. Frederick Garvey," who's a total H!ITG! and, despite being white-haired, also has the blackest bushiest eyebrows this side of The O.C. Gloria watches warily as Garvey says that they'll be securing "the best talent available," and they hope to keep as many staff members as possible. Gloria? The dictionary called. It would like to know if it could use your facial expression to the word "cynical."

The bell rings, and Alvarez slowly opens his eyes. Boy, it would be nice to see him first thing in the morning. Especially shirtless, as he is here. Hill intones, "Solitary confinement," which is the second time we've heard about that in the first three minutes, thank you very much, Fontana, but even Guy Pearce in Memento would still remember that. Alvarez takes a piss in all his shirtless glory (yes, I know that's the second time I've mentioned he's shirtless, but some things are actually worth repeating) as Hill tells us that in the 1800s, Alexis de Tocqueville came to the U.S. to study our penal system. I guess that Bastille Day thing got the French thinking. Alvarez sadly (for us) gets dressed as Hill says that although, back in day, people believed that solitary confinement offered prisoners the opportunity for quiet reflection, the truth is that "no man wants to spend that much time thinking about himself all day." Tell that to David Blaine.

Doctor Eyebrows expresses incredulity to Gloria that Alvarez is on 200 milligrams of Zoloft a day. Nice to know that before the Pfizer product-placement people got toEverwood, they were in Oz. That means I've followed the path of the Pfizer product-placement people. Well, I'm glad I know this recap is going to kill me, or I'd have to make other arrangements. Gloria explains that Alvarez has a history of depression and suicidal tendencies, but Eyebrows doesn't see the need to keep him on the medication. Perhaps if he knew what kinds of cleanup jobs are in store for the custodial staff, he'd reconsider out of sympathy. Gloria tries to tell Eyebrows that Alvarez could be a danger to himself, but Eyebrows sits firm: As of tomorrow, no more Zoloft. Bye, Pfizer!

In Glynn's office, he explains to Pete and Gloria that he can't interfere with the decisions Weigert makes. Pete, still sporting a hideous perm, asks if that's it, they just are going to let Alvarez sink into depression, but Glynn's expression is all, um, honey? This is the guy who CELEBRATED WHEN MY DAUGHTER WAS RAPED, so I'm more inclined to dance than cry at the prospect of his suffering, thanks. See, Fontana? I have a decent memory, after all.

Gloria takes Alvarez his last dose of meds, and breaks the news about the pills. Alvarez says that his grandfather told him "yesterday" that Gloria wouldn't be coming to visit him any more, like, nice job, Zoloft. And nice job, product-placement people! Gloria's like, that would be your dead grandfather? She starts to leave Crazy Central, but Alvarez grabs her wrist and begs her not to leave. Alvarez struggles to tell her that he liked working in the ward, and I have to say that Kirk Acevedo does a great job of playing Alvarez as being on the brink of madness here. He kisses her hand and wistfully thanks her for caring. Gloria looks like she wants to spend a day and a half in the shower. She leaves, and when she's gone, he dumps his meds in the toilet. So wait, was he never taking them? Wouldn't she insist on seeing him take them? So she just trusts the mentally unbalanced to take their medication? Well, Eyebrows wasn't wrong about this being a waste, then. Wake up and smell your incompetence, Gloria.

Em City. The hacks conduct morning count as Said is led to the gate. Metzger is giving the new inmates Diane's speech, and I'm sure it won't surprise you to hear that his version is nowhere near as commanding as hers. Said, El Cid, and Wangler all greet their charges. Wangler's is a "Malcolm Coyle," who rates an immediate prisoner flashback. You know, given that there are regulars on the show who still haven't had a flashback (Arif and Guerra come to mind), I'm really hating this immediate introduction to these characters' histories. It just telegraphs that they're going to be important for an episode or two and then disappear or die. Anyway, Coyle and a crony emerge from robbing what looks like a sporting-goods store, if the golf clubs in Coyle's hand are any indication, but two cops are on the sidewalk. They shoot his friend, who had a gun. Coyle, armed only with the golf clubs, surrenders. Well, that was informative. What? Seriously, that was the most pointless prisoner flashback ever. "Prisoner Number 99C122. Malcolm Coyle." Grand larceny, armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, assault of a police officer. WHAT? We saw no indication of either of those last two things. How are we supposed to get any insight through these flashbacks if they don't even show us the important stuff? Sheesh. Anyway, Coyle's sentence is fifty years, parole in twenty.

Wangler introduces Coyle, who apparently goes by "Snake," to The Artist Formerly Known As Poet, who's going by his given name, since he doesn't write poetry any more. Well, this episode is certainly looking up, then. Snake wonders why they're watching Miss Sally's Schoolyard, as it looks like a bunch of stupid puppets, but soon Miss Sally appears and starts jiggling her hooters around, and the crowd, well, hoots. Pancamo thankfully interrupts this animals-in-their-natural-habitat Not-ional Geographic moment to tell Wangler that Nappa wants to see him. Cut to the bathroom, where Nappa is shaving, and since there's no shirtless Ryan this time, I feel teased, and not in the good way. Wangler lectures Nappa that he's going by "Bricks" now, and if that's some sort of "dumb as a box of" commentary by the writers about Wangler, there might be hope for this season yet. But seriously, how lame is Wangler? I mean, he's like that girl in junior high who decided that her middle name was so much cooler than her first name and told everyone to start calling her by her middle name, and everyone's like, "Sure, [Middle Name]," even though everyone knew even in junior high school that this was a little phase that was going to last two weeks, at most. "Bricks," my ass. Nappa gives the code that tomorrow, "everybody gets healthy," meaning that the drugs are on their way, baby, and he doesn't want Snake hearing too much about their operation. Wangler protests that Snake "seems" all right, but Nappa duhs that "seems" isn't good enough, and given that Wangler was around for the whole Markstram affair, I'd think he'd think so too, but I guess that brings us back to the whole "Bricks" issue. Wangler asks how he can be sure, and Nappa in turn asks if "on the corner" they didn't have some sort of test for that. Wangler agrees that they did. I hope it doesn't have anything to do with drinking your own piss, because I've seen quite enough of that for one episode. Or lifetime, for that matter.