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When Frank passes out in the snow, he so impresses the doctors -- including Jeffery Self! -- with his alcoholism that they end up bringing him into a clinical trial: Two weeks without booze, three thousand bucks. Everybody's taking bets on it, but only Lip seems to remember the last time this happened and the dangerously manic side of Frank that comes out.
After days of keeping him entertained -- and Sheila dropping into a wild abandonment depression besides -- the kids taser him, force-feed him a bunch of booze, and turn him back into an alcoholic. Dark.
Also dark: Kev and Veronica's new foster kid, a thirteen-year-old sister-wife from a cult compound who likes doing chores, and assumes that Kev will be fucking her. Oh, and she has a son of her own despite being a tiny, pointy little baby-child.
Lip goes to visit that Chicago professor and has begun dreaming, which also includes tentative attempts on both sides to define his relationship with Karen as something other than FWB.
Fiona briefly thinks it might be worth learning PowerPoint and getting an office job, but is overwhelmed immediately by the classes and sort of flips out a little bit about her lack of prospects.
Ian's losing interest in Kash, now that he's sleeping with Mickey Milkovich, while Kash is still trying to get Linda pregnant again. Mickey is still basically gross, but eventually finds himself comfortable enough to sit on the couch with his sister and Ian without feeling the need to spontaneously bash anybody.
Something's going on with Steve. He's getting messages from a coworker "Candace" in Illinois, and while Fiona's hoodrat jealousy is kind of cute for being so gross, the real story seems a lot more involved. Apparently Steve is from a rich family and his real name is Jimmy?
week: The return of Mama Monica. More Jimmy/Steve stuff. The son of the sister-wife.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Congratulations on the second-season renewal, firstly. Not a surprise, given the show's performance, but still a nice little bit of news.
"Where the hell were you guys last week?" Lip asks in the Previouslies, sitting in jail, and then the first thing that happens is Frank drops dead in the snow from alcohol poisoning. It's become something of a theme, this hopeful little Frank-is-dead scenario, but of course he can't even be trusted to die properly.
Busy busy morning at the Gallagher house, where last night Fiona and Steve got naked on their way to the bedroom and never quite made it there. Liam's out of diapers -- "Put a plug up his butt, didn't I, Buddy?" giggles Lip -- so Fiona's getting together a shopping trip. Carl's been invited to play paintball, and knew they couldn't afford it so he didn't even ask. Something of a theme this week. So Lip's taken the batteries out of a taser and given him that instead. One look at Lip's sad face and Fiona hands Carl her last thirty bucks, and it's smiles all around. Paintball, I suppose, being a healthy outlet for Carl's burgeoning insanity.
Deb notices a text on Steve's phone from somebody named Candace ("Sweetie, call me. It's important") and of course brings this to Fiona's attention, but Fiona's so used to getting screwed her only response is to yell at Deb for reading other people's phones and then kick everybody out of the house. Because of course there was a problem with Steve, she was prepared for that, so she's already ready for him to go.
Kev wakes up Veronica with a creepy little "Mommy, I'm hungry!" They're getting their foster kid today and he's tremendously excited, which Veronica knows is a recipe for disappointment. Everybody this week is about getting ahead of the disappointment. She reminds him they're only taking this kid on for a week so she can pay her parking tickets, and he's all, "Maybe you will love having a kid!" Then he takes it to a Kev place and starts begging to suckle her teat in this weird Cameron Diaz-on-Oprah accent, and it's super weird. Guys and boobs.
Probably you have read The Hunger Games, and if you haven't you should, and even if you haven't you probably know the basics: The authorities keep the country in a state of perpetual synthetic crisis so they can keep power, and force the children from each of the thirteen Districts of the country to fight to the death each year just to make their lives more miserable. Like the Gallaghers, like every generation, the children carry the weight of their drunk parents' mistakes.
But the saddest part, and this is not a spoiler or anything, but the part that really got to me is how -- by the third book, Mockingjay, which you either love or hate -- they're all so screwed up, by propaganda and the ways even the good-guy grownups are using them, brainwashed and (off-camera) sexually abused and forced to turn even their own emotions into weapons so they can thoroughly dehumanize themselves to solve the problems they're presented with, they just go dead. Even their PTSD has PTSD, and every triumph turns into just one more level of manipulation.
So they play this game, "Real Or Not Real," where they bring up something that happened, or they think happened, or they were told happened, and the rest of the people in the group have to help them figure out the broken pieces of themselves by confirming or denying it. Real Or Not Real, they say, You're here to kill me. Real Or Not Real: This living situation is viable. And it's healing, to a degree, but only by virtue of the fact that maybe the percentages of them that are still alive, inside, add up to one whole person.
Fiona wakes Steve up with some nuzzling and then a little optometrist thing, real or not real, about whether he likes the left ear version or the right ear version, and then the left nipple vs. the right nipple, and finally a little morning wood action, and then she banks his phone off his head and starts screaming about this Candace issue. Steve's response, correctly, is to flip her on her back and start fucking her, because of course he's not cheating and this is just another version of Fiona looking for a reason, getting into her pissing match with the unfair universe, so finally she gives in. A second later, his phone rings and he bounces, which kind of proves her point: Not real.
Frank finally wakes up in the hospital with a doctor and two residents, including the genius Jeffery Self, standing over him with an idea: "In my whole career, I've never seen such a spectacular display of alcoholism," she says, and he accepts the compliment gracefully, "Would you be able to abstain from alcohol for two weeks?" No way. But how about for three grand? Hell yeah.
Mandy's telling Ian some gross story about a girl with pinkeye trying to use her eyeliner -- which, somebody should definitely take old Mandy's eyeliner off the table, for at least a little while -- but Ian's not listening, because he's thinking about fucking her brother and what this means for his relationship, both with her and with his married boyfriend. Of course he can't tell her the name of the guy he's doing -- he explains it's because the guy's on the DL -- but he still has to say something because it's like consuming him, and Mandy's only a little disappointed. The gay thing with Ian, it would seem, is less exciting than it used to be.
Kev's all excited, tossing around a football, while Veronica's more interested in hiding what I guess qualifies as their silverware. He's dancing around, giggly and wild, when the DCFS lady arrives with their new kid, Ethel, a thirteen-year-old sister-wife dressed so severely she'd scare the little girl from True Grit. Turns out she was rescued, with 70 other kids, from a cult compound.
They stare at the little girl, and she stares back, and it's all very worrisome because Kev and V are basically nuts but this little girl is clearly nuts in a whole other way. I'm sure she'll end up like Rhonda Volmer by the end of it, if we know this show at all. But how great would it be if she just joined the cast permanently and could toss out weird little homilies and judge Frank mightily all the time? I'm going to miss my sister-wives once Big Love finishes up. It would be nice to know where my fix is coming from.
The SCRAM they're putting on Frank is of his doctor's own design, matched up to a steampunky '80s technology: "Drink one sip of booze, light turns red. Attempt to take the bracelet off, light turns red. Spill rubbing alcohol on it, light turns red. Red light equals no cash. Get ready to say good-bye to three grand." Of course, Frank runs straight for the Alibi, where nobody believes that he's actually gone sober and just assume he's full of shit, since he's full of shit. Real or not real: Frank Gallagher is going to stop drinking for two weeks.
"The way I see it, I've done a lot for the folks around here over the past couple of years, and I could use a little help from you all now. I might hit some rough patches over the few weeks, so I'd like you all to commit to not drinking, too, in solidarity. Like schoolchildren, when they shave their head for the cancer kid?" Of course they all laugh his Falstaff ass to the bank, and it's so deafening that he runs out the door, wishing AIDS on them all.
Fiona, down thirty bucks from the paintball things, takes Liam over to the temp agency so she can get diapers and groceries, but it turns out that the place turned in their timecards late and she'll have to wait a week. The sympathetic and lovely lady at the agency points her in the direction of a sports bar, Sticks & Skates, where they dress you up in Sexy Hockey uniforms and get their Hooters all over you. Not Fiona's kind of deal. She actually manages to show fear, and the cute temp lady is like, "I'm teaching a free PowerPoint class for the four Saturdays."
Which sets up a whole thing where Lip is being offered college and Fiona is being offered real paying office work (at the preposterous starting salary of $20 an hour), where Frank is offering everybody a version of himself that does not suck shit, but they both know: Real Or Not Real is always Not Real when you're a Gallagher, unless it's something terrible and then it is always, eternally, disgustingly Real. For the purposes of having dialogue, they'll mention these opportunities to their besties down the road, but in such a way that it's clear they already know they're fucked.
Lip swings by to get Karen for his trip to the University of Chicago ("maybe steal some sweatshirts for the bookstore") and Karen knows better than to actually show hope, so then they're both being nonchalant as possible about it. Less so, Sheila Jackson, who hasn't seen Frank since he died a couple days ago and ended up in the hospital. You know how Sheila is? Well, it's even scarier when she's quiet about it. Lip assures her that Frank is on a bender or something and will never die, and that he'll be home soon.
Kev brings Ethel -- her name is Ethel! -- a bunch of boardgames but she's so nervous that he finally asks her what's up, and her deal is that she needs some chores to do, because whatever Hunger Games Bible they've been selling her says that in addition to pedophile plural marriage you also have to do chores all the time or risk Outer Darkness.
Kev is horrified -- not only because it's horrifying but because his biological clock has been ticking like crazy all week and he managed to get the one child who is not actually a child in any way -- and offers to take her "a new kids' place where all the waiters dress like famous Chicago gangsters... Although I have no idea what that has to do with kids. Or burgers." She is steadfast, and finally he's just like, "Fine, let's get some chores for you to do." Little Fiona in training, lost without a world of problems to solve.
Kash is very apologetic that he can't have sex with Ian until Linda is pregnant, but Ian doesn't really care anymore, so it's kind of sad and kind of sweet watching the fear play out over Kash's face as he realizes something's going on but not what it is. Real or not real: My underage hookup is finally outgrowing me, and then I'll be alone again.
Frank comes home -- "Mother!" -- with the news of his temporary sobriety, and she feels kind of sorry for him but expresses it in terms of her pride in him, and he's like, "I need to be entertained at all times for the two weeks, because everything is going to be horrible. As abusive and flat-out crazy as I am usually, it's going to be worse." Sheila's response is a bump-and-grind that must be seen to be believed, somewhere between the dance Porky Pig used to do when he was trying to be seductive, and the dancing baby that used to bother Ally McBeal all the time. It's fairly excellent. There's even a soundtrack, Sheila going, "Boom boom boom bum-bitty yum-bum bum-bitty yum-bum." All things considered, Joan Cusack doing that little dance is probably therapeutically valid. In the short term, at least.
Lip's professor friend Hurst takes him, Karen, and a Bright Young Thing on a tour of the campus. While Hurst is doing his best Good Will Hunting impression, the ladies trail behind and the girl condescends to Karen when she asserts that Lip is, in fact, a genius just like Hurst thinks. She has no idea how Karen operates, so she thinks it's a girlfriend thing. They talk about the possibility of college, work-study, scholarships, loans and all that stuff, and Lip is all, "That sounds like a lot of trouble to me." Not real.
Hurst explains the choices, in a way that manages to be patronizing in no way: Karen is going to get pregnant, and maybe it will be an accident or maybe not (real or not real; also consider here Sheila doing the same thing as we speak) but eventually he'll end up at Best Buy, where he may or may not make manager but will probably get fired because he's a smart-ass. "The anger that you've suppressed finally bubbles over, and you mouth off to the wrong person, and you get your ass fired. And from that point on, you won't be able to hold a job very long because you'll know the truth: That you never lived up to your potential. And the only way to numb the pain of underachieving is with booze and with meth."
Even without knowing the particulars of Lip, that's pretty accurate. Enough so that Lip pulls an abrupt Real Or Not Real on him to get control again: "The old Philosophical Professor Who's Gonna Set The Troubled Teen On The Right Track? It's a little trite, don't you think?" Hurst is taken aback, and admits that it doesn't work very often. "There's no shortage of brilliant kids just like yourself who are too stupid to get out of the hood." And how do "we," Lip asks, usually respond? "You tell me to fuck off." Lip obliges and Hurst takes off, with a fairly subtle recommendation that Lip at least go check out the robotics lab before he leaves... And to wear a condom.
It's been an hour and a half and Frank and Sheila are reduced to Go Fish. They should sic Ethel on her, or vice versa, considering last week she was this close to keeping Liam forever -- and because they're like the same lady. Sheila offers to fuck him instead, and Frank squeals that he can't take anything up his ass sober, but she promises to "make it all be about you." Frank resists -- maybe already knows what's going to happen? -- but she persists, hopping around and pulling him upstairs adorably.
Mickey Milkovich stops by the Kash & Grab, for once not interested in stealing, and the boys sneak into the back room for another quickie. The delight with which Ian navigates this relationship is so affecting and sweet that you can't help but wonder if Mickey will ever get there, or if he's just going to stay scary and eventually do something horrible. Or if that role will fall to Mandy. Or really, anybody involved in this: I can see even Linda getting pissed at her sister-wife for fucking her mortal enemy. How funny would that be?
Kev and Veronica feel "icky" about the way Ethel is cleaning their entire house, but Kev tries to explain how it makes Ethel happy, and accidentally mentions slavery, which puts a certain look in Veronica's eye that is terrible to behold. Ethel comes back in and offers to help Veronica with her chores now, explaining that sister-wives stick together, and they're like: "Back up. You're a fifth wife, at thirteen, who was married to a fellow named Clyde who is 65?" Veronica offers to beat Kev's ass for him, for dragging them into this, but again: Don't you kinda hope Clyde shows up, hat in hand like in Breakfast At Tiffany's, and then maybe gets himself murdered or something? I know I make fun of the show's self-consciously Showtimey "we're so edgy and novel" thing, but admittedly, at this point, I've fallen prey to the "anything can happen" part of all that.
"What's the total right now?" $7.56. "Okay." The girl at the register asks Fiona if that was a "keep going" okay, or a "we're done here" okay, which I found kind of touching. Like, it would never occur to me to play Price Is Right at the register this way, but in the world of this show it makes total sense, and it's very kind. Quick math while a young mom takes her kid to the bathroom to change a diaper, and Fiona's eyes light up: She puts back the diapers, pays her bill, and follows the lady to the bathroom to stage a "Liam, I forgot your diapers!" scenario where the lady kindly tosses her one. Clever, unsustainable, but very Fiona in that no-fault kind of way.
"So," says Ian afterwards, desperate to have a story of his own that doesn't indict him quite so badly, "Guess this was like a booty call, huh?" Mickey, in the grand tradition of boys, is not willing to play that game, and just heads out into the street with a "Whatever, seeya." Ian is such an upstanding young man that it's both invigorating and terrifying to watch him go through what he's about to go through. You walk into these things with your eyes open and -- real or not real? -- and twist so much of it into a more appealing shape, so when it finally falls apart on you, the worst part is watching the way you set yourself up.
Neither by hand nor by mouth will Little Frank respond. I can't handle the constant fact of Frank's junk but I will tell you this: Sheila talks to it in a funny voice.
Embarrassed -- and sad for Sheila, who assumes he isn't attracted to her when he's sober; real or not real -- Frank goes on a long "jog" that is basically him walking down the street talking to himself like the crazy cat lady with the cats all over her from The Simpsons. Eventually Debbie pops up out of nowhere and gives him some Hawaiian Punch, and he goes, "So good! Why's it so good?!" Um, because it is 100% sugar.
A short time later, they've spent all his booze money on a truly epic pile of gross candy and eating themselves sick in that van outside the house. Debs is, of course, in heaven, and once again Frank remembers how awesome she is and how they should just hang out all the time. Real or not real?
Inside the house, Lip and Karen are about to fuck downstairs when she suddenly is like, "What is the nature of our relationship?" There's a whole game of brinksmanship going on here on which they've been zeroing in for a while, where Lip wants more but can't want more and Karen's like entire thing is about never wanting more. So will Lip still like her if she wants to be his girlfriend? And will Karen still likes him if he proves that he's a pussy by liking her? I mean, props to Karen for bringing it up but they're sort in sex Viet Nam right now with no exit strategy. So they agree, both disappointed, that their status is: "Friends who like to do this," and it's sad but can't be helped.
Liam and Fiona finally make it home and she yells at Lip for fucking on the couch, and he points out that she's the one who did it last night on the stairs. "Hallway!" she yells, taking the groceries to the kitchen, and then informs them that Kev and V are bringing Ethel and meat sauce ("Is that a euphemism?") for a big all-family spaghetti dinner. Carl comes home screaming about paintball, face all jacked up, and then Kev comes in crowing about his "daughter." Aww. Veronica corrects him, stone-faced, and Karen just can't get enough of Ethel, because Karen loves trainwrecks. Her eyes go wide and Ethel curtsies like a lunatic and Karen just shakes her head. "Right! Because it's 18th-century England!"
Everybody's minds are blown by the fact of Ethel, and then Frank and Debbie show up screaming and bouncing off the walls -- "Oh my God, I am so wired!" Debbie screams -- and after a few minutes of talking about the Frank situation, Lip goes hard and sad and black. He knows what it means, it's happened before. "We gotta help Daddy stay busy and keep his mind off of drinking!" Debbie screams, because that is like everything she loves at once.
Frank gives a speech and then the whole family plays this awesome raucous game that's like an obstacle course through the house, up the stairs and over the couch, it's awesome, they jump over brooms and at one point you have to spin Ethel around like a turnstile, it's fantastic. Happiest thing maybe ever on this show. Lip's getting more and more morose, like everybody else has amnesia about how this ends, but even Fiona sort of gives in. Frank runs over to the piano and starts playing, everybody gawps, then he starts singing "I Will Survive," and everybody joins in, happy little family, and Lip is just about to punch himself in the dick, so they finally take off.
Steve texts Fiona, in the wake of the Candace text and his abrupt departure this morning, to say that something came up, so Fiona darkly fills V in on that whole situation, and then Frank asks for requests. "Carry Me Home on the Cross" is Ethel's suggestion, which sends everybody else off again.
After dinner, Fiona admits how overextended she is this week, and V points out that she is renting a child for money, and then it transpires that the mood in the house is so high she admits that she's thinking about taking a PowerPoint class, or possibly going back to Sticks & Skates. V snorts -- "Dicks & Dates?" -- and then makes the mistake of suggesting that Frank might stay sober long enough to get the money, and take the pressure off. Not real: Fiona compares that to hoping she wins the lottery.
And now that she's bummed, let's talk about Steve, who is probably lying about this Candace who will be dumped if that's the case. Kev appears, fully awesome right now, and goes, "Please, that fool doesn't have enough game to cheat. Did you ask him if he was? Then you have two choices: Believe him, or don't. Or you could let your suspicions grow until you turn into the ice queen and act like he's invisible until he starts sending anonymous threatening notes, and you have to report his ass to the po-po." (Historically, they exposit, this happened with a former beau.) "Fi, every guy you've been with, you cut and run. Maybe it's time you tried something new?"
Even Veronica is impressed, but when he says it's because "being a dad" brings out the best in him, she reminds him once again that he is not a dad and that he's setting himself up for a massive fall. Frank drags them out to play football with the kids -- "You two are skins," he says to his daughter and her best friend, because everything is horrible -- and Veronica's like, "I have no idea what PowerPoint is, but you're smart! I know you're gonna be great at it!"
Steve drives up to a giant mansion outside Chicago, where his cardiologist big brother gives him noogies and asks him how college is going, and then a pretty blonde comes out and kisses him and is clearly a major part of his family life, and then the brother calls our Steve "Jimmy." So essentially everything Fiona thinks, to a weird degree like he's secretly this posh slummer, is totally true: Steve is not real. Literally.
morning Frank is making Mickey Mouse pancakes -- he traded a bunch of old Hustlers to a drunk he knows that works at Denny's -- and telling the kids stories about his drinking past. Lip's just like, "Drunk or sober, you're still an asshole," and everybody is mortified because they're enjoying the whole pretense, because they are children and they love their father, and even Fiona is grossed out by that one. But Frank just lets it slide and they all hang out. Fiona grabs Deb's laptop, reluctantly heading out the door to the job center; everybody else is going bowling with Kev and Ethel. Debbie invites Frank to come along, against Lip's wishes, and then there's a totally gross moment where he agrees to come, but first clears his throat for Carl and Debs to clear the table. Like he's a parent, like he's a father, like he's a man.
Turns out V asked Ethel to do her housework and they'd trade week, since she'll be gone by week, which is totally offensive to Kev. "Put that down! I know the Bible says you get closer to God and crap if you sew the holes in my socks, but this is just wrong. It's Saturday! And in my house, the way to get closer to God on Saturday is to play." From what he calls the "updated version" of the Book of Ezekiel. "Go change out of that Laura Ingalls dress and don't call me Sir. We are gonna have so much fun!"
Fast-forward a couple of minutes to the hell of Handmaid's Tale bullshit that results when Kev finds Ethel in the bedroom in this ridiculous nightgown with her knees up, ready for her weekly rape. He's grossed out and heartbroken and desperately tries to explain the many levels on which she needs desperately some reality and a home of some kind, but that's when Lip comes over to get them for the bowling trip and, horrified, blurts out a nervous laugh at the scene.
Over at the Milkovich's, Ian's doing English homework with Mandy when Mickey stalks by -- "Douchebags!" -- and into his bedroom. Ian excuses himself for the bathroom and leaves Mandy on the couch, thinking about pizza bagels and how much fun it is to have a boyfriend, while he's in there secretly fucking her brother. Ian lives sort of dangerously.
Fiona makes it through just about the first five seconds of the sympathetic temp lady's PowerPoint class, realizes that she deserves nothing in this life and is poor ignorant trash, and takes off again. For an episode that's not really about Fiona, she sure does get it in the teeth sixty times this week. Time for another hotel reservation, I think.
Bowling, smack talk, family fun. Frank's better when he's not drinking, but also he's pretty much the same. That's all natural suckiness. Lip takes Carl and Debbie aside for some real talk about how Frank is going to fuck them over, and it's sad but perfectly executed:
"Remember that turtle you had last summer? Walter? And you guys were really, really into him, for like two weeks. And you talked to him, and you fed him, and you took him everywhere with you, right? But after a while, you know, you guys got busy with other things. So Walter's water never got changed, and nobody fed him. And like two months later, Debs, you wanted to show off Walter to your friend Susie. And you guys started looking for him, and when you found him, he was all dried up and dead."
Oh, Phillip Gallagher. Prince among thieves.
"Now see, you guys are that turtle, okay? And Dad's you." Carl assumes this story means that Perfect Frank is going to buy them another turtle and Lip's like, "Forget it." But of course Debbie comes up afterwards and pats him on the hand, somehow managing to Debbie this into a situation where she's comforting Lip about trying to comfort her. "Don't worry, Lip. I get it. Daddy's going to forget all about us when he starts drinking again. It's okay. I don't mind. I'm going to enjoy this while it lasts, if that's okay."
Lip is, if possible, even more undone by this. Real or not real? Debbie is always real. Start making a list of which Gallaghers are The Awesome One, pretty soon there's nobody left. Except Frank, duh.
Ian finally comes back from the bathroom, complaining that Mr. Milkovich was in there, and they play videogames for a while before Mickey comes out, burps a "Shove over, faggots," and sits down to Ian. For Ian, this is a sign of something; he's not wrong, but he's not right either. Yes, Mickey made the choice to come out and hang after they fucked, and yes, that's a good sign. But it's not the whole end of the story and it doesn't mean the impossible somehow just became possible, no matter how much Ian's eyes shine.
Things are totally gross at Sticks & Skates, of course, but Fiona A) Looks gorgeous and hot, for once not in spite of the horrible things they do to her on this show and B) Keeps that smile going no matter what.
Ian's late to work after his date with the entire Milkovich family, but Kash doesn't mind because this month's fertile period is over and he's allowed to fuck Ian if he wants. Ian is vague about it, which just makes Kash want him more, because guys are the dumbest fucking thing on the planet.
But I would point out they've done something smart here, making Kash's whole life above board after the outing, because it broadens his character beyond just cowardice. He's not staying with Linda because of the lie, or even out of some dumb marital duty: He's doing it, and Ian understands this maybe better than Kash does, because even a gay white male is still a gay white male, and even a half-hearted Muslim gay male is still a male, which of the three of them puts a white Muslim single mother absolutely dead last in terms of people who matter in this world. And for a show that is mostly about single moms, that's a very important point to make.
As is this: There is a stereotype, and I fall into it pretty often still, that any passionate devotee of children's literature is either an Etsy-knitting crybaby queerbutt, or mildly retarded, and probably both. And even being all of those things, as I am, I had to think hard about why it is that I still read YA and don't even bother hiding it anymore.
Now, Mockingjay is one of the most searingly subversive works I've read in a while, and I love it madly (especially after the second Hunger Games book, because that was a letdown). Harriet The Spy is worth about three years of therapy if you read it right. Even thirty-some years later Raskin's Westing Game explains feminism and race relations better than most graduate syllabi. And there is partially a link here to the Linda thing above, because of course we make fun of children's literature, girl's stories, because the two people at the bottom of every totem pole are A) Women and B) Children.
Which is why it doesn't matter how brilliant Gossip Girl is, for example, or Pretty Little Liars, because they fail the Tom Hanks/John Updike test of being about what it's like to be a White Male Coming Of Age in 1967, which is what all great literature is about or will ever be about. Or, to speak of a third TV/film project that outshines its source material on every level, Twilight, which is undoubtedly horribly written trash but becomes emblematic of all the ways that a book for either audience, or both, could never ever be important: It's meant to be consumed by people who are barely people.
But the truth is that YA literature, when written by a person who should be writing it, is inherently subversive, because it assumes that children have minds. Children's concerns are political and interpersonal to a degree that adult concerns are not, because your job as a child is to figure out the world. And writing for that audience means addressing those concerns in a respectful and rational way. Childhood is a political state; all children's literature is political literature.
Especially if, as it often does, it explains the workings of the world the way Hunger Games does, which is: You will always be carrying Frank on your back. You will always be paying the price for somebody else's need to control, because in a world of all cops there wouldn't be anybody left to arrest, so somebody's got to be on the bottom of the pile. Without the blood and shit of the underclass to run on, the whole machine would die, and child labor has always been the cheapest kind, because they're a renewable resource that results from fucking. Which is every kind of narcissism at once.
And that's why this episode is marvelous, because what's Frank reading them? You got it. And not because it's a popular kids' book, but because it's the purest example in recent literature of what our generation has been handed. Fiona comes home and asks -- after a long day of feeling like a hockey whore -- if Sober Frank might get gainfully employed, but Debbie shushes her so she goes into the kitchen to cry and feel absolutely terrible about herself some more. Steve took the edge off, it is his pleasure to do so, but Real Or Not Real: If she trusted him and he's betrayed her, then isn't she worse off than she was before? Just like she's been saying all along?
Lip finds her there but she won't tell him why she's crying, because it's always the same reason because her life is very small, and very hard, and finally she's like, "On another topic, why are you so pissed at Frank for being awesome right now?" Lip still can't believe the amnesia of everybody: "We've been through this before? Last time Dad was sober? He had a bet with some guy at the bar, and became the perfect dad? First time he ever came to one of my Little League games, and I hit a double. I fucking never saw him so proud."
Fiona's like, "And it didn't mean anything, because you knew it wasn't real?"
"No, that's the thing: I didn't know."
Lip heads over to Karen's to get her for another trip to see the robotics lab, and tosses stones at her window. Why didn't he knock? He thought she might have a boy up there. And as it happens, she did -- Jason Pierce helped her find a torrent site, presumably she blew him, and now he's gone -- and when Lip's face twists you have to wonder if he really has a problem with her choice, or the fact that this is still going on at all. Real or not real? Because as it turns out, Lip and Karen are playing the Fiona game with each other, refusing to trust even the idea of love in case they hit a double and everything goes to hell again.
Kev is still smarting for the 99 problems of Ethel that night, and can't even get it up for their eighteenth bout of sex today. "V, that girl needs us. I mean, you heard that messed-up story of hers. Not to mention she thought I wanted to have sex with her today." That one gives Veronica pause, but she's steadfast that the "freak" is not going to live with them forever, or even week. Things do not end well, but you can see that Kev isn't giving this up without a fight. He grew up in foster care and it's clearly scarred him, but it seems like more of the fact that his Debbie part is coming out and he honestly can't handle the idea of losing this weird little girl to the storm.
Karen climbs into bed with Sheila, who is weeping, and they discuss whether or not Frank has abandoned them. Karen assures her that this little sojourn at the Gallagher home is only temporary, and things get way fucking dark: "Lip says he'll be back to normal as soon as he starts drinking again," she comforts her mother, and just like that the whole cast basically climbs aboard the fact that no matter how transient this Perfect Frank thing is, it needs to end immediately so they can all go back to their normal lives.
I mean, no chance was Frank going to turn things around, but it's still a fairly awful concept to consider that both of these households are now set up in such a way that they will fall apart without Frank being a mess. And not just in a clever-writing or clever-concept way, but in a way that strikes to the heart of the matter, which is: Entire families are built around the addict, you make these compromises over decades in order to keep everybody alive and protected, you make them and their disease your fucking keystone, and that's sad and gross and everybody -- Lip, Fiona -- are constantly being tempted with a way out.
But as essential as each member of these families is, to the working of the overall mechanism, the fact is that if you pull Frank out of that Jenga party the whole thing will fall apart, because they have been covering for him for so long, taking care of him and each other, that they're bent into unimaginable arthritic shapes around him. Because Frank's drinking is the center of their lives, their lives collapse without it, which is the "dependence" in codependence. Which, it's fun to blame the victim and all, but if you look at it that way it's both strength and weakness at once. The inability to remember that life could be better, the inability to remember that surviving is not the same as living.
Which is why, by the time Frank's enlisted Carl and Debbie in his effort to "renovate" the shit out of their house, knocking holes in walls and turning the furniture upside down, Fiona and Lip agree he's done enough. "Last time he ripped up the floorboards, remember? Said he was gonna put in Saltillo tiles." Fiona had to screw a flooring contractor just to get it done. Debbie nods. "We have to kill the turtle. Daddy and Carl are up in the attic getting ready to cut a hole in the roof for a skylight. It's time to kill the turtle."
Of course, this mangles the turtle metaphor, but Lip knows what she means; because Debbie loves Frank more than anything both Lip and Fiona are hesitant about taking him away from her again, but it's Deb's world and we all just live in it, so when she says it's time for Real, they know she means it. "It'll hurt less now than if we wait two more weeks," it's decided, and they call Frank down from the attic. He comes running to save Debbie from the mouse she's yelling about, Lip hits him with the taser, and they pour vodka down his throat while he chokes and Carl screams.
Over at the medical lab, his little light turns red, and the other resident gives Jeffery five bucks. Maybe the only joke that could save you from thinking about the downward spiral of how awful and harsh and necessary that was.
Still morning; Kev's off playing basketball and Veronica's thought a lot about the hell of Ethel's existence, so by the time he gets back she's making french toast and telling Ethel about how her mother used to make them anything they wanted for dinner on their birthdays. "I always asked for french toast!" she grins, and you can see her go softer than I can remember her ever going. Kev's about to take a shower for breakfast, and they call Ethel sweetie when she makes her first request, which shocks them both: "If I'm going to be staying here for a while, would it be all right if my son Jonah came to visit?"
Back with everybody at the Gallaghers', there's a funny sort of pun on the TV about the economic recovery v. alcoholic recovery, how any promises of a brighter tomorrow are exposed and made grotesquely funny by the drabness of the day. Steve shows up and Fiona tells him she didn't even notice he was gone; Carl's sawing the ankle bracelet off Frank's leg; everybody makes fun of Tim Geithner and the audacity of hope, when even a happy ending has a sad ending just beneath it. Real or not real?
Fiona will give up on PowerPoint and wait for the Jimmy shoe to drop; she'll think about Sticks & Skates and wonder if she can live through another shift. Ian will wonder if he ever loved Kash; he will fall in love with Mickey before he even knows it's been decided. Lip will wait for Karen to read his mind, and Karen will do the same; Lip will let his whole life wheeze out through the bottom before he risks looking like a Little League asshole again.
Frank will head back to the Jackson house. He'll climb into bed with Sheila, and she'll smile, surprised. When she turns over to look at him, she'll ask him if he's drunk, and he will say yes. Her back will relax, and she'll curl herself into her arms, and he will hold her tight. They will relax, back into themselves. The world will be peaceful.
Real or not real? That's a game you only win by quitting before you play. Anything else would hurt too much. Anything else would feel too good.