The Plan

You know, it's times like these (read: "late Sunday afternoon") that make me reminisce fondly about those few brief shining moments between seasons of Six Feet Under when my weekends were free, my TV viewing was random and unstructured, and people weren't constantly calling my house to tell me how great Mike Binder is. Yeah. And if you think that last part was a joke, it's not. Anyway, in hindsight, I guess I don't really remember enjoying my sort-of summer vacation as much as I probably should have. It was mostly an endless haze of lazy Sunday afternoons, cheap meaningless sex, and surprisingly snark-free entertainment experiences. In fact, the sarcasm void in my cold, black heart got so deep at one point that I actually rented Glitter. On DVD. Yeah. If you think that's a joke, it's not. The clerk at the video store almost tried to have me committed, for God's sake. And while it's true that the less said about Glitter the better (especially on Oscar Sunday), I think it's worth noting that when Mariah Carey's acting is the BEST part of your movie, you've got some serious problems. And you people thought Ed Begley Jr. was bad.

Anyhow, like most of my childhood summer vacations of old, this week's episode begins in the back of a minivan. Veritable "Hey, It's That Guy" (and star of the much beloved Melanie Griffith/sex-android flick Cherry 2000) David Andrews is loading suitcases and whatnot into the back. Of course, since every single show opener on Six Feet Under is contractually required to have a clever gimmick, we immediately cut to a hospital, where we learn that the minivan is all mental, and most likely a product of our soon-to-be DGDJ's morphine medication. He's clearly dying of some unspecified disease, but he does wake up just long enough to share a few final moments of heavy philosophical conversation about death with his wife. It's all very Richard Schiff on ER. His wife, by the way, is played by Mare Winningham, who I honestly don't think I've seen since St. Elmo's Fire. Oh, wait. Turner & Hooch. Never mind. As the camera pans up over the DGDJ's head, we hear his cardiac monitor flat-line and Mare babbling in the background about seeing light emanating from just above his head. I think she's probably just seeing the fade to white. Farewell, Michael John Piper. We hardly knew ye.

Fade up on David, surfing the net. You can't see the screen, but I think we all know what he's really reading. Hi, David! Everyone in the forums loves you! And good call on the Brazil nuts. They're icky. Just then Nate arrives and asks, "Whatcha doing, David? Downloading some pics from Man-Sluts.com?" I guess we should just be grateful he didn't say Jerk-At-Work.com. Anyway, David is really reading about "living with AVM," and he helpfully exposits many of the symptoms we can expect to see Nate displaying later in the season. These include "seizures with muscular twitching, loss of verbal skillseven some kind of hemorrhage at some point." Well, that doesn't sound too bad. I think I may be experiencing a few of those right now. Nate doesn't really care, because he could also die at any time from being on "the wrong airplane," so why worry about AVM?

Cut upstairs, where Mare is making a selection from the new casket wall. David recommends the Parliament, because "it's very elegant." Mare, however, reports that her dead husband thinks it's tacky. While David and Nate absorb this, Mare selects a coffin from the bottom row. "That's the Cleveland," says David. "It's a more affordable choice, but as you can see, it's not quite as gracious." Hey! Is that another shout-out? After all, no one hates Cleveland more than people from Pittsburgh. Mare, meanwhile, continues chatting with thin air as she complains that the coffin is too "self-effacing" and "exactly like that horrible IKEA couch your mother bought us." Nate interrupts to ask a question, but Mare chastises him. "I can't carry on two conversations at once," she says, before standing up and stating that her dead husband has selected the Cleveland. There's some more one-sided ghostly banter, which leaves Nate and David looking increasingly confused until Mare admits that she's a psychic. David: "Hmm. That must be very interesting for you." Mare: "It's just more information." Now the director makes Mare move to a different spot so he can re-block the scene, and she takes the opportunity to engage in some of that beloved Alan Ball Straight Talk From The Mouths Of Babes. "You've got a lot in your mind," she says to Nate. "On your mind, I mean." Get it? Do you? Mare assures him that he's going to be okay, although if I were Nate, I'd be more reassured by the fact that my contract extends into season three than anything else. Finally she leaves, muttering to her husband that "it's [his] funeral" on the way out.

Aaron: Okay, let me get this straight. She's kooky, she hates Cleveland, she talks to people who aren't really there, the actress's name comes suspiciously close to rhyming with my own, and she's predisposed to getting excessively meta at all the wrong times. Um, should I be calling my lawyer or something?
Alan Ball: Of course not. Do you really think we sit around the set and structure entire episodes just to give you subtle shout-outs?
Aaron: Well, yeah. You mean you don't?
Alan Ball: No. You need to be a little more self-effacing, my friend.
Aaron: Okay. But if she quotes the Bible, I'm suing.

Formaldehyde Fortress. Ruth returns late at night from her Plan seminar, and finds Claire waiting up for her on the couch. Aww. How sweet. And also kinda sexy in those pajamas, but that's a different story. Ruth joins her in the den, and explains that she'll be going back for more Plan seminars because she doesn't want to be rude, and because she also already paid for them. Claire offers to make tea, which immediately inspires the standard parental response to any offer like that: "Okay, what did you break?" When Claire says she was just trying to be nice, Ruth explains that in the "old blueprints of [her] old house," Claire is only nice when she's done something bad or when she wants something. "Well, that makes me feel like shit," answers Claire. These two actresses work really well together. Heck, even the writing subtly supports them, as this is one of the few times Ruth doesnt chastise her children for their language. Anyway, Ruth heads upstairs to do her "homework." "I have to write a letter to my dead mother and forgive her for all the terrible things she did to me." Claire: "That sounds fun." Ruth continues, "And then I have to write a private letter to myself, outlining how I want to renovate my life." For those who are curious, both letters can be found here, by clicking on "The Wake." Once Ruth is gone, Claire returns to watching a movie on TV. As again is contractually required on Six Feet Under, all programs viewed on the family TV must be textually relevant to the episode at hand. In this case, it's Badlands, starring Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek as teenagers in love who go off on a crime spree. I actually felt like the Ultimate Film Geek for calling that one off the first shot of it, but then like seventeen million billion people posted it to the forums before I even got there, so now I just feel stupid. Fade to white.

Fade back up on the DGDJ being drained in the Body Shop (StC = 1,529. After receiving a thousand-point bonus for repeated use of the phrase "fuck my legless grandmother," that earns the episode a solid "A" grade). As they work, Nate points out a mistake made by Rico, who explains that he only got two hours of sleep the night before. I so know how he feels. Anyway, Rico goes on and on about how Vanessa's sister showed up with a suitcase after a fight with her boyfriend, and kept him awake all night with the wailing and complaining. He also mentions (without providing details) that something else came through which allowed them to buy the house. Nate congratulates him, and then shifts over to the real topic of his conversation. After ascertaining that Rico and Vanessa have been together for eight years, he asks, "Do you guysyou knowpretty muchstill have sex?" Rico laughs, and tries to play it off. He says that having two kids slows things down a bit, so now they're down to three or four times a week. "Wow. That's too bad, man," says Nate. Heh. Rico says that it's nothing like it was in the first few years, and that "you'd better enjoy it while you got it."

And then The Ironic Segue Fairy cuts us to David and Keith. At a racquetball court. Hmm. Foreshadowing much? Angry Keith angrily complains that he's angry about some guy who's gone over his allotted time on the court. Then David asks about Eddie, and all Keith can muster up is, "He's okay, I guess." Keith is more concerned about his sister, and whether or not she's using drugs again. He also exposits that his mother has come to town to help take care of her, and that everyone thinks he's overreacting. "I don't think you're overreacting," replies David, with a look in his eye that suggests he would claim that not even Hitler was overreacting if it might help get him back in bed with Keith. Keith keeps complaining, however, pointing out that Eddie hates racquetball because he has "poor depth perception." Really? And they let that guy intubate people? Whatever. David gives a little smile at learning that not everything is perfect in Big Black Sex Paradise.

School. No, a different one. This time it's Brenda in class, and man, is Brenda boring when she's by herself. The whole scene revolves around her arguing with a smarmy professor about whether or not the theory of natural selection is moral or blah blah zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I am, however, fairly certain that Brian Austin Green is playing one of the students in the background. Given that Grant Show is about to make an appearance, who wants to bet that I'm wrong? Besides, nobody's seen that guy since Tiffani Thiessen dumped him anyway. The scene's one redeeming moment comes when a student asks a question about "bisexual genital rubbing amongst pygmy chimps" and how it pertains to modern human behavior. Heh. Sensing that she's been upstaged, Brenda stands up and storms out.

Back at the Formaldehyde Fortress, Nate is making final preparations for the DGDJ's funeral. In the background, The Late Nate has made himself comfortable in a chair. He turns around to provide his usual brand of quirky, quasi-metaphysical thoughts on death, prompting Nate to remark, "You know, you'd think getting hammered by a bus would make you a little less of a dick." Late Nate says that it's possible that there is life after death, but it's also possible that there isn't. "You'll never know, buddy boy, until it's your turn." Suddenly Mare makes the de rigueur ironic entrance. "You see, that's what you were holding on to," she says, before explaining that her husband is still present in the room. Nate turns to ask if maybe she also senses the presence of his father. Despite the fact that the camera pans right past him and the Mark Snow-esque soundtrack clues us in to some supernatural hijinks, Mare says no. "But that doesn't mean he's not here," she adds. "This room is packed. I can't get to everyone." David comes in to tell them that the funeral is ready to start, and Mare suddenly senses that one of them is expecting a child. Nate says it's not him, and David "seriously doubts" that it might be him. "I'm not sure which one of you I'm reading, but I'm quite sure there's going to be a child here very soon." Okay, who can guess what's coming ? I called it before she even finished the sentence. Yep. In walks Rico, baby in hand. A relieved Nate introduces him, and Mare compliments Rico for making "his body look very nice." Rico overshares about tissue decay in cancer patients, and then Nate hustles him out of the room.

At the funeral proper, some random guy reads a poem from Walt Whitman. Too bad that wasn't in the last scene, so I could make a joke about Rico, the baby, and the cradle endlessly rocking. Oh well. Nate and his Dead Dad are standing in the back of the room, and The Late Nate claims that he's just there to help Live Nate adjust to his death. "I am used to it, Dad," replies Nate. "It's been six months." "Seven," comes the obvious answer, "But not that you're counting." Nate looks up suddenly, as if he's just realized that his relationship with Brenda started on the night his father died. Perhaps he should re-watch the pilot.

Touchdown! The crowd goes wild! Queen Alice congratulates Ruth for knocking down her old, "flea-bitten" house, and tells her that now she "can build the house of her dreams from the ground up." Ruth is surprised to see everyone applauding her, Robbie the loudest of them all.

Across town, Claire pulls over to the side of a road somewhere in her Lean Green Corpse Machine. Gabe appears out of nowhere, jumping into the car and insisting that she start driving immediately. He's playing the bad-ass this whole time, insisting that she doesn't care where he's been and repeatedly spitting out the car window. I'm not sure about the significance of the spitting, by the way, as it was either a very strange acting choice by Eric Balfour, or an incredibly obtuse reference to the downfall of Robert Downey Jr.'s character in Less Than Zero. You be the judge. As they drive, we finally get a good look at Gabe, who appears sweaty and disheveled. He just wants to go somewhere they can be alone and talk, but Claire is furious to discover that he's actually high at that moment. As they argue, they pull up to a traffic light, where Claire persists in telling him to turn himself in. He describes that as "a genius fucking plan," but then some moron pulls up beside them and rolls down his window to ask why she's got a corpse in the front seat. Gabe immediately pulls a gun out of his waistband, reaches across Claire, and opens fire, just like we all saw in the previews. What we don't see, however, is whether the bullet hit anyone. Gabe smashes down the accelerator and forces Claire to drive away.

A few blocks down the road, a crying Claire pulls over so they can go back to check on the guy. Gabe refuses, and just keeps begging her to help him. "Let's just keep going," he says, cradling her face. "We'll just keep going and I'll figure out what to do." Claire, however, having seen how Badlands ends, decides to decline. Although I'm certainly hopeful that Gabe ends up getting the chair at some point. Anyway, there's much screaming and emoting, and some pretty impressive acting going on as Claire grabs the gun away and forces Gabe out of the car. As he leaves, we get an insert shot of his hand grabbing a cell phone, so it looks like he's still not yet gone for good. Damn. He runs off into some woods, and Claire zips the gun into her backpack. Then she turns around and drives back to the intersection, where the moron is mercifully not present. Also not present, however, are the four thousand LAPD police officers who now have an APB out on a lime-green hearse. Something tells me she won't get very far.

Formaldehyde Fortress. The Late Nate is pontificating once again, this time to David, who thinks his dad is rotting in hell. Late Nate doesn't believe in going to church to impress God, or anyone else, for that matter. "The only God I know is a mean-spirited comedian in ugly pants whose every joke has the same damn punchline," he says. Then he also adds that David will be joining him in hell someday, citing the Bible for proof. ["If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them." -- Leviticus 20:13] David says that he doesn't believe in that anymore, but Dad just looks smug. "I also don't believe you're in hell," he adds, before admitting that he occasionally does miss his dead ghost dad.

Aaron: All right, that's it. I'm calling my lawyer.
Alan Ball: What? Why?
Aaron: Hey, don't say I didn't warn you! He just quoted the Bible. Right there. You heard him. I'm suing for fifty million.
Alan Ball: Oh, please. We wrote this script like six months ago. Not everything is all about you, you know.
Aaron: Yeah, well, how do you explain the rest of it?
Alan Ball: What rest of it?
Aaron: "The only God I know is a mean-spirited comedian in ugly pants whose every joke has the same damn punchline?" Come on! I mean, yeah, I'm gratified to see that you and the rest of the SFU staff have recognized my many God-like attributes, but what's up with the slam on my pants?
Alan Ball: Dude, you're a freak. How on Earth do you figure that "every joke has the same punchline" has anything at all to do with you?
Aaron: Get out. Now.

Live Nate arrives in the room now, and they chat for a moment about Brenda and her wacky massage schedule. Then Nate asks how long David dated the Big Black Sex Cop. When he hears it was about six months, he asks if the Big Black Sex ever slowed down any. "I was so hoping you weren't going to go there," replies David. Heh. Then Claire comes running in, bawling and begging David for help. Hmm. I wonder why she picked David this time. Maybe we'll find out!

But not just yet, however, as we switch over to Ruth and Robbie in a bar. They're all giddy and laughing over Ruth's "fuck" outburst, especially the "fuck my legless grandmother" part of it all. And if I know this show as well as I think I do, we'll probably be seeing old pictures of that legless lady any episode now. Robbie asks what she's planning to do the day to continue her renovations, and Ruth answers, "That's none of your fucking business." This prompts even more laughter, and then Ruth spies a couple making out in the corner. There's still gales of laughter from both her and Robbie, and then they end up in an embrace that looks almost as if they're about to kiss. Who wants to lay odds on that one happening?

Back at the Fortress, we finally do see why Claire went to David. Keith is there, pulling the gun out of her backpack while wearing surgical gloves. He gently interrogates Claire about Gabe, asking where he might have gone and what he was wearing. Claire sadly tries to cooperate, but she's not getting a lot of support from Nate, who's quite clearly furious at Gabe for everything he's done. Keith assures her that she's doing the right thing, and David is surprisingly compassionate as well. When Nate asks Claire why she's still protecting "that loser," Keith's answer is simple: "Because she loves him." That shuts everyone up, including the people watching at my apartment, and finally Keith continues by adding that he'll bring her down to the station whenever she's ready. "Will you be there?" she asks. "Yes," he answers. "I'll be there." And as he and David share a meaningful glance over the "I'll be there" part, we slowly fade to white.