Over the past two seasons, I've variously described Six Feet Under as a show with one foot in the grave, both hands on the bong, its mouth in the gutter, and its eyes on the prize. The show's heart, however, has long been beating in the mixed-up, fucked-up, and until now never-before-broken-up bond between Brenda and Nate. While Claire ricocheted from Gabe's guns to Billy Batty and David do-si-do-ed with Hoedown Hos and Little White Sex Dorks, Nate and Brenda have remained our only cosmic constant. They are Six Feet Under's yin and its yang, its liar and its whore, its harlot and its prodigal son. And like all epic tales before it, theirs has a hero and a villain, lovers and betrayal, and its roots firmly planted in The Greatest Story Ever Told. Hmm. Does any of this sound familiar?
"But it came to pass within a while after, in the time of the wheat harvest, that Samson visited his wife with a kid." -- Judges 15:1
"And Delilah said unto Samson, 'Behold, thou hast mocked me, and told me lies.'" -- Judges 16:10
"So he told her everything. 'No razor has ever been used on my head…If I be shaven, then my strength will go from me, and I shall become weak, and be like any other man.'" -- Judges 16:17
"And now there were men lying in wait, abiding with her in the chamber." -- Judges 16:9
"With such nagging she prodded him day after day until his soul was vexed unto death." -- Judges 16:16
The Lord sure does work in mysterious ways, doesn't he? And by "Lord," I don't mean Alan Ball, by the way. And so on a night when SFU faced its stiffest competition yet (the Survivorseason finale, The X-Filesforever finale, and a Cosby Show reunion), the show's renewed faith in the Good Book rewards our own faith in the show with a perfectly plot-tastic penultimate episode. And they even threw in a week's vacation for your recapper! God's love is truly infinite.
And now, on with the recap!
La primera escena de esta semana fue grabada completamente en español. Un peluquero muy parecido a Hank Azaria con un "mullet" baila en su salon mientras está atendiendo a sus clientes. Si te fijas en el fondo de la escena, podemos ver a una señora viejita sentada abajo de una secadora de pelo. Cuando la vemos en la primera escena, ella todavia está con vida, pero cuando Hank Con Mullet regresa a atenderla, ya se había muerto. Adios, Leticia Perfecta Perez. Por lo menos usted falleció con un buen peinado.
We fade back up on a slow, Sex and The City-style pan across some pornographic pandering on Brenda's Powerbook. A closely-framed brain shot reveals that Nate is finally getting to read his "fiancée"'s "novel." Brenda walks up behind him, not looking at all surprised to see him reading. "Hey, Encyclopedia Brown," she says. "You snooping?" Encyclopedia Brown? Is that a shout-out? Because I used to love those books when I was a kid. Nate replies that he found the computer open on the counter, and proceeds to quote some sample dialogue: "'Fuck me harder, Surfer Boy! With your fat little crooked cock and your please-tell-me-you're-not-serious shaved balls.'" Shaved balls? Is that a shout-out? Because I used to…just kidding. Sort of. Besides, the real shout-outs aren't for another few pages. The point here is that Brenda is once again continuing in her subconscious quest to get caught. First she left her Bathroom Boink's book out on the coffee table where Nate would be sure to see it, and now she's got him reading the world's worst romance novel. It's actually pretty typical Brenda behavior, when you think about it. I mean, why show your significant other the common courtesy of actual face-to-face honesty when it's so much easier to just scatter about a few thinly veiled fictionalizations in the hope of avoiding any actual conflict? At least Nate had the maturity and the (obviously unshorn) balls to come clean with his issues, albeit belatedly. Brenda, on the other hand, is clearly so self-obsessed at this point that she can barely even tolerate his existence, as evidenced when she reminds Nate in the most patronizing tone possible, "I don't care if you like it, I didn't write it for you." And people wonder why Brenda is perceived as the bad guy here. Anyway, Nate also reads aloud some expositional information about the fictional Buttfuck, namely that he wears a yin-yang hat and says "late" a lot. That'll be important later. He then says that he thinks Brenda's still mad at him about Lisa, and that she's "getting back at [him] by writing about [her] and someone else." "It's not that simple," she replies, in the understatement of the new millennium. "I started…writing this long before I found out about you and Lisa." Feel free to mentally substitute "fucking anything with two legs" for "writing this" in that last sentence. "So tell me," asks Nate, "what else is in that computer? Or this computer?" he adds, stroking her forehead. Oy. Not only is that a complete clunker of a line, but now he's got me thinking about the contents of Brenda's mental hard drive, and that's a very scary place to be. She's probably got at least half a dozen gigs of porn in there, not to mention her drug dealer's phone number and a half-written letter to The Vine complaining about how "Ned" just doesn't understand her sometimes. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go reformat my brain.
When I get back, we've moved on to The International House Of Mancakes. It's a happy family breakfast with David, Keith, and Taylor, and Taylor's two dads are gently trying to explain that they're having a special visitor the day, so it's important that Taylor be on her best behavior. "Oh, you mean a social worker," she says. "I've had them before. This past year we had Mr. Shipley. He smelled like Fritos and coughed a lot." Hey! There's nothing wrong with that! Crunch. Flick. Ahhhh. "Me and mom used to call him 'Shit For Brains,'" she continues, prompting Keith to give her a long lecture about language before sending her off to brush her teeth. Once she's gone, David delivers a lecture of his own, babbling about building trust and the "whole-child theory." It's actually kind of confusing, especially when you consider that if there's one thing you'd think David would associate with good parenting, it'd be warnings about foul language. After Keith helpfully reminds us that their chances at gaining custody are dependent on his being cleared for shooting that junkie, the scene comes to a quiet close.
Formaldehyde Fortress. Claire sits on the front steps, re-reading her LAC-Arts brochure for what you just know is the eight millionth time. Mommie Drearest arrives, saying that she wants to go on record as being fully supportive of Claire's decision to enroll there. "I'm just taking a tour," replies Claire. "Let's not get our panties in a wad about it." Heh. Ruth, of course, is horrified by that expression, but that may just be because she hasn't been to Target in a while. She also explains to her daughter that she never got to go to college, and that she always wanted to study French feminist writers. Hmm. Ruth never really stuck me as a Helene Cixous fan, but whatever. Claire cheerfully delivers this scene's required bit of exposition by pointing out that Billy Chenowith is a LAC-Arts alum, and then angrily pulls back her flowing red locks into a bun. "God, I hate my hair!" she exclaims. "When I go to college I'm going to cut it all off like Felicity." "Have I met her?" wonders Ruth. "Yeah, she was here for dinner once," answers Claire. Hee! That must have been the same night Nate brought home Dana and David dated Jack McFarland.
Down in the Body Shop, a sweatsuit-clad David finds Rico gazing sadly at the corpse of the DGDJ. "Did you know her?" he asks. Rico explains that Ms. Perez was sort of an adopted grandmother who lived across the street from him and Vanessa. "We used to invite her to all the kids' birthday parties. She used to sit in this folding chair, just happy to be there, with a big smile on her face." "That's sweet," sighs David. And it really is. You'll get no "Shut up, Rico" from me in this scene. Finally noticing David's attire, Rico wonders if the Fisher family will be adopting casual Fridays. "Sorry," replies David. "I'm living at Keith's now. I don't know where half my stuff is." Yeah, but you'd think he'd at least know where the suit he wears EVERY DAY might be. Or is that supposed to be a joke about how far away David is from his closet now? Either way, Rico shakes his head at that news, obviously uncomfortable thinking about what the fucking fuck his boss does with his free time. David, however, is too busy cheering the DGDJ's coffin selection to notice. "She wants the Our Lady Of Guadalupe casket," he exclaims. "I love that one!" And while it's not as cool as last year's KISS casket, I kinda like it too.
Across town, Keith is wearing his big blue sex uniform and reporting for duty. He's interrupted by his sergeant, who is unfortunately the bearer of bad tidings about the junkie shooting. "I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this," he says. "But you're being brought up on charges. It turns out all the perp had was a toy pistol. There's also evidence to suggest that if the perp hadn't died, he might have invented a clean-burning alternative to fossil fuels, reducing our dependence on imported energy sources, thus ending the conflict in the Middle East and deflecting the horror of the impending world war!" Heh. I wonder if they'll send him to Oz. ["But [they] took him… and bound him with fetters of brass; and he did grind in the prison house." -- Judges 16:21] Then again, there's probably a lot of people who might actually like to see that. But alas, it was only a dream sequence. The real news is that Keith has been kompletely kleared of all charges. With a big black sigh of relief, he picks up his cell phone to call David and deliver the news.
Cut to Claire, arriving at her future college. After being introduced to Henry (her "cruise director"), they set out on a quick tour of the campus, which seems to consist mainly of a large garage and some picnic tables on a sidewalk. Don't they have classrooms anywhere? What if it rains? Henry hammers home that "every last freak of every last California high school" eventually ends up there, just so we know that Claire will fit right in. She's excited to spot a couple of kids welding a statue together (right in the middle of a busy sidewalk!), and even more excited to learn that welding is an actual curriculum requirement. "How cool is it that welding is a requirement, and not fucking calculus?" she wonders. Calculus? Is that a shout-out? Henry assures her that while her math grades may not be critical (and for those of you still in school, allow me to assure you that they'll NEVER be critical), the content of her application will make all the difference. He adds that letters of recommendation are especially important, so even though Henry thinks Billy's photography is totally derivative of Gregory Crewsden (which it really isn't, but that's a different story), he still thinks "the alumni thing will serve [her] well." Pleased that her acceptance seems imminent, Claire stops to snark on a statue of pool balls in a triangle entitled "Jesus Balls." Shut up, Jesus. The real kicker, however, comes out in the parking lot, where Claire finds another hearse just like her own parked to the Lean Green Corpse Machine. Gee, do you think she's supposed to belong here?
Over at Nikolai's Flower Shop For Physical (But Not Emotional) Therapy, Ruth is blathering on and on about scheduling plans for the two of them to be together. First she wants to go out every other night, but once she realizes that means they'd miss the occasional Saturday, she decides to re-work the plan. Instead, they'll pre-select four nights each week, always including Saturdays, because, as Ruth puts it, "Who wants to stay alone on a Saturday?" Clearly Ruth doesn't write a lot of recaps. Nikolai, however, spends the entire scene gamely lifting weights with his recovering legs and mindlessly repeating "okay" after every other sentence. In case you didn't get it on your own, we're supposed to realize that Ruth has broken him worse than the Mafiya ever could.
Now it's time for Nate to go visit Lonnie Schlichting (a.k.a. The Surly Sick Kid). Of course, little did I know when I mocked Lonnie last week that his purpose in death isn't merely to remind Nate of his own anvilicious mortality, but rather to remind ME of the perils of perma-snark. The guy's name is Aaron, people. That's got to be a shout-out, right? I mean, he's bitter, he's Jewish, he bitches about everything, and he's even got really bad hair. I just can't believe I didn't see it sooner. Anyway, Aaron inquires about the inner workings of the crematory -- or, as he calls it, "the human fry-master." Much like his namesake, he's keenly interested in getting down even the tiniest details, right down to the identity of the person who pushes the starter button. Of course, since he's lonely and friendless, he's forced to request that some random crematory employee handle that particular function. You know, I always assumed that if the writers on this show ever made me a DGDJ, I'd end up as some fat, sweaty guy, but I guess I can live with being surly and unwanted. It's certainly gotten me this far. On the other hand, what's up with the fact that Nate is cleaner-shaven than my character? That doesn't seem right, somehow. As part of his litany of loss, Aaron also explains why he doesn't have a girlfriend: "I'd start thinking, 'I don't like this about her' or 'I don't like that about her,' and then I would start to feel this thing on the back of my neck, just like one of those superballs, and it would just throb with the word 'leave,' 'leave,' 'leave.'" Ahh, I know that throbbing well. "And the second I got my life back," he continues, "the ball would disappear." I know that feeling, too. Sometimes shaving off a bad ball is the best thing you can do for yourself. Besides, I'm finding the image of my exes as throbbing, rubberized, cancerous growths to be particularly compelling these days. Nate tries to convince him that lots of people go through the same thing, but Aaron isn't buying it. "No they don't, man!" he shouts. "Okay? They don't. Most people just pick someone. I never looked at someone and just said, 'Okay, I'll take you.'" Folks, we have a title. And a metaphor. And a reason for Aaron's continued integration into the plot, as Nate promises to visit him every day, just to prove that it's never too late to connect with other people. Sigh. But what if I don't like other people?
Alan Ball: [Sigh.] I should have known this would happen. Look, Aaron is a very popular name, okay?
Aaron: Not really. You take away Hank, Elvis, and good old "Thinks He's Shakespeare" Sorkin, and we got bubkes.
Alan Ball: Oh, please. It's in the Bible, for God's sake! "And Aaron shall bear the names of the children of Israel in the breastplate of judgment upon his heart." Exodus 28:29.
Aaron: So? "The Devil can quote scripture for his own purposes." Merchant of Venice Act I, scene iii.
Alan Ball: Heh. Well, you've certainly proven that one true.
Aaron: Also, "breastplate of judgment"? What are you, Wonder Woman?
Alan Ball: Eh. Close enough. But seriously, do you really think we just sit around all day thinking up clever name gimmicks to amuse you?
Aaron: As a matter of fact I do, Mr. Alan "Perfecta" Ball.
Alan Ball: You know, I don't even know why I bothered. It's a stupid name anyway.
Aaron: Yeah, well…at least you can't make testicle jokes about it.
Alan Ball: "He among the sons of Aaron, who offers the blood of the peace offering and the fat, shall have the right thigh for his part." Leviticus 7:33.
Aaron: Eh. Close enough.
Formaldehyde Fortress. David is approached by a well-to-do looking middle-aged man who explains that he's the son of the MMDD (Muchacha Muerta Del Día). After inviting Rico to join them, they make their way over to the coffin wall, where Rico explains that he was a personal friend of the deceased. Before he can say too much, however, the man's cell phone rings, and he interrupts them to take a quick call about a golf tournament. I'm starting to get the sense that we're not supposed to like this guy, and when he hangs up and explains that he's an orthopedic surgeon, my hatred is complete. Not because I don't like orthopedic surgeons, mind you, but only because I'm now fully justified in calling him Dr. Dildo for the remainder of the recap. After perusing the Coffin Wall for a moment, Dildo selects one in expensive mahogany, then looks appalled when shown the Our Lady Of Guadalupe casket his mother has already chosen. "This looks like some kind of gang-banger, low-rider, I don't know what," he complains. "She chose [that one] because she was living on a fixed income. I have money, and I want to change it." Rico is near furious at this, and repeatedly insists that they honor the wishes of the deceased. Finally Dr. Dildo turns to David, saying, "Mr. Fisher, I'm offering your business more money. Now your associate seems to have some kind of conflict of interest that I don't understand." Of course, he also calls their business a "piece-of-shit operation" and accuses David of being unable to "get out of [his] fucking way," but that's not until after David explains that Fisher & Sons is legally bound by the choices in the MMDD's pre-need. Once Dr. Dildo has stormed out, David calmly announces that he's going to make a salad (hee!), and Rico suspiciously inquires as to whether or not David would have taken the extra money for an upgrade if he weren't legally required not to. "To be perfectly honest," replies David with a sneaky smile, "I'm not entirely sure we ARE legally bound." Rico then smiles himself, remembering the way The Late Nate used to care for clients, and that's our cue to begin the week's first flashback.
In Das Sargzimmer, The Late Nate is handling an intake, only the bereaved customers are Rico and his mother. We know it's a few years earlier mainly because of the huge bearclaw hairdo that Rico is sporting as he relates the events of his father's death. Apparently The Posthumous Padre was doing some work on the roof of their house, when he slipped and fell face-first into a pile of bricks. Wow. The Diaz family certainly has bad luck when it comes to home repair, don't you think? "You're going to freak when you see him," says Young Rico, making it clear that his father's face was severely damaged by the fall. "I'll be okay," replies the Late Nate. He watches tenderly as Young Rico begins to sob, and as we return to the present, we slowly fade to white.
Loud & Taylor. David is leaning on the sofa, desperately trying to repair one of Taylor's braids, and essentially failing miserably. I'm surprised he doesn't just give up. ["Having put [her] to sleep on [his] lap, [he] called a man to shave off the seven braids of [her] hair." -- Judges 16:19] Keith, meanwhile, is frantically running around the apartment, trying to cleanse it of anything "gay" in anticipation of the social worker's visit. First he freaks about Esquire's Guide To Style, and then he tells Taylor to hide her copy of The Wiz. "Oh, right," snarks David. "Like watching The Wiz is going to turn her into a lesbian." Well, probably not, but it could very well cause her to puncture both her eyes and eardrums with a sharp instrument, so Keith's concern is probably for the best. Taylor just giggles at their playful bickering, but the real laughs come when Keith points out a photo of a naked ass hanging on the wall. "Okay, that's pretty gay," says David. Heh! For the record, this entire scene was done in one take, which makes its near perfect comic timing all the more impressive.
In spite of her Felicity-related complaints earlier in the episode, it apparently takes Claire less time than Taylor to do her hair in the morning, because she's already arrived at school. She goes to visit George Hisofficeisamess, whose office is, well, a mess. There are boxes all over the place, and a few gifts resting on the desk, but Claire is completely oblivious. She just gushes about how happy she is to be going off to art school, and how she's finally found something she really wants to do. George listens politely but sadly, and seems genuinely hurt when he learns that he can't even write her a letter of recommendation, simply because he's not a famous artist or a raving psychopath with an unnatural tattoo fetish. Finally, Claire looks around, notices all the boxes, and lamely asks, "Is it your birthday or something?" George Lacksanyfinesse explains that the gifts are from students he worked with over the years, and that he's lost his job due to budget cutbacks. Despite the fact that Claire is graduating in a matter of days, and thus wouldn't be seeing him around school anymore anyway, she's devastated by the news. An important phone call interrupts their touching goodbyes, and Claire backs slowly out of his office, feeling abandoned.
The Ironic Segue Fairy cuts us from abandonment to the renewal of a relationship as we watch Zhora practice reading her vows for her upcoming "commitment ceremony" with Pa Chenowith. Then we pan over to reveal Brenda, splayed out on the couch and looking even more apathetic than usual. I also think she might be wearing the same sweatshirt David had on a few scenes back, but that's a different story. Ma explains the reasoning behind the ceremony, which is that she and Bernard "have a lot of work to do, but [they] need to do it together." Then she asks her daughter if she knows what a "soul twin" is, causing Brenda to give the biggest eye-roll I've ever seen. "Soulmates aren't enough?" she asks. "I have to have a 'soul twin' now? Oh, great. More fucking propaganda." Heh. That's a Sars shout-out if I've ever heard one. Zhora delivers some lengthy New Age psychobabble about "magnets" and "impeding [her] prana" before asking if Brenda and Nate still have that same special connection. When Brenda doesn't answer, Zhora gets an actual maternal look on her face (will wonders never cease?) and leans in to tell her daughter, "If you don't have that feeling, get out. Now." Good God! Is that a shout-out? "God, the ego!" screams Brenda in response. Oh, yeah. That's a definitely a shout-out.
Aaron: Aww! I can't believe you actually used "Get out. Now." That's so sweet. Thank you.
Alan Ball: Actually, it was really more of an instruction than a shout-out.
Aaron: Damn. Do you always have to be so hostile? Why not feel the love, just this once?
Alan Ball: Well, I don't know…
Aaron: Come on! Can I get a hug?
Alan Ball: Don't touch me.
Aaron: Sorry.
[Awkward silence.]
Aaron: So does this mean we can hang out sometime? You know, I could come over like three or four times a week, and we could fire up the bong and…
Alan Ball: Get out. Now.
Aaron: But why? And what about Saturdays?
Alan Ball: Get out!
Aaron: Geez. All right, already. We. Get. It. You don't have to be such a bitch about it.
Cut to a lawyer's office, where Rico and Vanessa have just been informed that the MMDLD left them $149,000 in her will. They're shocked by this news, although not as shocked as I am that she was apparently able to find a much better lawyer than David did last week. When the lawyer gets up to fetch some papers for them to sign, Vanessa turns to Rico and utters the immortal line, "$149,000? That's like a hundred and fifty thousand dollars!" Heh. Also, shut up, Vanessa. She and Rico are so excited over the inheritance that they actually start arguing over who did more to help the MMDLD, and since I've now gone three scenes in a row without once telling Rico to shut up, I'm going to move on while my good karma is still intact.
The Body Shop. Claire sets up some lights and her camera, and proceeds to take a number of incredibly cute self-portraits for her LAC-Arts application. The little "That Girl" pose she strikes for one of them is just totally fucking adorable. Sigh. Rewind and repeat. Rewind and repeat.
Alan Ball: Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you, okay?
Aaron: You should be. Although I do appreciate your putting in the cute Lauren scene to make up for it.
Alan Ball: Even so, I shouldn't have overreacted like that. I mean, we're only chatting a couple of times a week over the computer. I guess there's no real harm in that.
Aaron: Exactly. It's not like I'm running around being clingy and saying, "Marry me, Alan" all the time.
Alan Ball: You're still not coming over to my house, though.
Aaron: Ew. Who says I even want to? That place smells funny.
Alan Ball: [Sigh.] I can't help that. The grow lights for my marijuana plants give off a lot of ozone.
After I finally manage to pry my fingers off the rewind button, we find Ruth and Nikolai in line at a movie theater. Because spending four nights a week together just isn't enough, Ruth now wants the two of them to go bicycling through Vietnam. In 2003. Now THAT'S being clingy. Also, can you picture Ruth in Vietnam? I'm not even sure she's ever been out of the Valley, much less all the way to Southeast Asia. They finally make it to the front of the line, and because spending four nights a week together and bicycling through Vietnam (in 2003) just isn't enough, Ruth also wants to make him sit through Murder by Numbers. Which is quite possibly the worst movie ever made. And I'm not kidding about that, either. I got suckered into paying to see that crap, and I was actually tempted to get up and complain that the projectionist must have skipped a reel somewhere, because nothing in the entire movie made any sense. Incidentally, is there anyone in Hollywood who picks worse scripts than Sandra Bullock? Oh, wait. David Caruso. Never mind. At long last, Nikolai manages to show that his spine wasn't shattered along with his legs, and he insists on seeing Blade II instead. Not that Wesley Snipes is much of an improvement, mind you, but it's still good to see Nikolai standing up for himself. We get a clever shot of them entering their separate theaters, and then the scene ends.
So am I the only one who's noticed that since Kathy Bates isn't directing as much anymore, the Chenowiths have had to find a different house? I told you that place was hers. Anyway, their new home is filled with friends and family, as the commitment ceremony takes place on the floor in front of the fireplace. ["Now the house was full of men and women; and all the lords of the Philistines were there." --Judges 16:27] Hey, is that Lulu Smigel in the background? Hi, Lulu! Glad you could make it! Once the vows have been exchanged, everyone applauds the happy couple, although Billy does so with notably more joy than his sister.
At a commitment ceremony of a very different kind, David, Keith, and Taylor are meeting with the social worker. Despite the fact that my TiVo's Smell-O-Vision feature isn't configured to reproduce the odor of Fritos, I'm just going to assume by the lack of coughing that this is a different guy from the one Taylor described. He doesn't seem too friendly, and in fact appears to be more bored than anything else as he runs down his list of questions. He also gets up and checks out the apartment, making sure to peruse the Esquire book that Keith was so worried about before. He wraps things up by asking to speak with both of their supervisors, and David quickly explains that he owns his own business, although he does fail to specify exactly what that business is. "And, as my own supervisor," he adds, "I'd like to say that David Fisher is a great person and great to work with." Heh. I love Michael C. Hall. The social worker does not, however, and the joke falls flatter than Chloe Yorkin's face. David and Keith look tense with the knowledge that things aren't going well, at least until the social worker stops on his way out to ask where they bought their coffee table. "Restoration Hardware," replies Keith, in what is klearly a shout-out to Gustave. "God don't you just love that store? I swear I could live there," says the social worker, as the lightness of his loafers carries him straight out the door. Taylor sums it all up for us, claiming that "that man was totally gay," much to the amusement of Keith, David, and the entire viewing audience.
Movie theater. Ruth sits alone, watching her crap-ass Sandra Bullock flick. They never actually show the screen, but I can still identify the scene from the dialogue, and I'm experiencing a severe case of drowsiness by proxy. It's the one where the cops try to turn the kid who wants to be Brad Pitt but isn't against his partner, who wants to be Leonardo DiCaprio but isn't. Ruth is obviously just as disgusted with the whole thing as I am, because she gets up and walks out of the theater so she can loop around to where Blade II is playing. She finds a seat to Nikolai, and ignores the clanging swordfight sound effects as she lets loose a major blurt: "Nikolai, you don't really love me, I know that. The only reason you're staying with me is that you feel obligated to, and that's not fair to either one of us. So I'm breaking up with you right now, okay?" Nikolai's response is the same as it's been for the entire episode, namely a shrug and a simple "okay." Ruth cries a bit as she sadly walks back into her own theater.
Not Kathy Bates's House. The commitment party is in full swing when Billy corners Brenda at the buffet table. He opens the conversation with, "So wasn't that ceremony unbelievably…" "Pitiful?" fills in Brenda. "Pathetic? Or maybe a word that hasn't even been invented yet. 'Vomitrocious,' is that a word?" Well, not according to the Microsoft spell-checker, it isn't. Of course, Microsoft also refuses to acknowledge that "anvilitis," "cocksucker," and "snarky" are words (though I note they have no problems whatsoever with "XP," "Encarta," and "dildo"), so maybe they're not the best judge for that sort of thing. ["It's all about right-clicking and then hitting 'add.' I can't tell you how sick I was of seeing red underlining beneath the word 'buttwad.'" -- Sars] "I was going to say 'sweet,'" replies Billy. "I kind of bought it. I mean, look at the two of them. Who else would have them?" And he's sort of got a point. Which is odd, because Lucid, Sensible Billy is kind of freaking me out. "I don't want to talk that way anymore," he adds. "I don't want to perpetuate the negativity." Um -- "perpetuate the negativity"? Shut up, Creepy Jesus.
Meanwhile, out on the porch, Nate is chatting with Pa Chenowith over a bottle of wine. "What we have now," explains Bernard, "is based on real honesty and forgiveness. That woman sees me. Always has." Nate is highly excited by the Chenowith women's obvious tendencies towards forgiving infidelity, and he smiles and listens contentedly as Pa delivers a homily about taking advantage of any new beginnings you may come across in life. Hey, speaking of new beginnings, where the hell is Rabbi Ari this week? Come to think of it, even though she's not here, I still know exactly what she'd say. ["Is there never a woman among the daughters of my brethren, or among all my people, that thou goest to take a wife of the uncircumcised Philistines?" -- Judges 14:3] Yeah, you tell him, Ari! "Thank God she forgave me," sighs Bernard. "Thank God, thank God, thank God." Nate joins in on that last "thank God," proving once and for all that no matter who he talks to or what they talk about, it'll always, always, always be all about Nate.
Later that evening, Nate and Brenda are in the elevator when suddenly a giant anvil crashes through the ceiling and sends them both plummeting to their deaths. The end! Great episode! Just kidding. It was actually just Nate saying, "Are we even moving?" You know, because their relationship is going nowhere. Do you get it? Do you? ["And did you get the button-pushing parallel? Okay, just checking." -- Sars]
Despite the fact that Claire is wearing the same shirt she had on in the picture-taking scene, it's apparently the day, because Billy has joined her in the Body Shop to hand over the glowing letter of recommendation he wrote for her. He also agrees to get one of his friends to write a second one, and confirms Claire's idea about using Aunt Sarah's friend Fiona Kleinschmidt (whom she describes as having "de-virginized" her brother) to do the third. Then he picks up one of the pictures she took of herself, saying that it's "really hot." Once again I find myself agreeing with Billy, and I'm not so sure I like that. "You are so…" he says, trailing off. "And I just want to reach over and…but I also want to do nothing, because I want to know you as long as I possibly can without fucking it up, which is like my special superpower." Heh. My special superpower seems to be my inexplicable ability to attract psychotic freaks, so I can certainly sympathize. And in fact this strange shout-out symbiosis continues, as he looks Claire right in the eye and says all the things I myself have longed to say to Lauren Ambrose: "You'll never be able to see yourself the way other people see you. The way I see you. Which is a shame, because you are…I really think you have no idea how beautiful you are." Aww. And she's totally buying it, too. Hell, she'll probably make him some pants now. Don't do it, Claire! He'll only break your heart. Make me pants instead! ["Make sacred garments for your brother Aaron, to give him dignity and honor." -- Exodus 28:2] Billy finally leaves, but not without taking one of her pictures to keep him warm at night. Fade to white.
We fade back up in Flashback Land, as The Late Nate invites Young Rico and his mother in to view the Posthumous Padre's body. As you'd expect, PP has been completely restored, with no sign of the trauma he must have experienced. As he stares at his father's body, Young Rico's face is suffused with a look of utter surprise and awe. He turns back to look at The Late Nate, and millions of viewers across America suppress a sniffle as they realize why young Federico chose the career he did.
The sad music leads us back into the present, where Adult Rico is working the MMDLD's funeral. He's accosted by Dr. Dildo, who demands to know how why it is that Rico is inheriting all of his mother's money when Dr. Dildo doesn't even know who he is. "Maybe you don't know who I am because you didn't speak to her very often," suggests Rico. Dr. Dildo triumphantly replies that he gladly called his mother every other Sunday, but Rico already knows this. "We invited her to a barbecue once," he says, "and she said she couldn't come because there was a chance her [Dildocito] might call. Yeah, a chance." And with that, Dr. Dildo is sufficiently shamed enough for the scene to end. It's also a chance for me to call my own mother, so I'll be right back.
In a dilapidated part of town, Keith and his partner are responding to a domestic violence call. Yay! Keith's Partner! Of course, he still doesn't get a name (even the credits call him "Keith's Partner"), but we all love him anyway. And surprisingly, he's not eating anything this time. The woman of the house answers the door to say that everything is fine, but with her angry husband roaming around in the background, she also silently begs them to stay. Keith and Keith's Partner step into the house, much to the displeasure of the husband, whom I've decided to call Dennis because his hair reminds me of something Dennis Rodman might do. Dennis starts screaming and yelling that they can't come in without a warrant, and despite the fact that Keith manages to remain relatively kalm throughout, things quickly begin to escalate. And since we all know what happens when Angry Keith comes out, I don't think I need to tell you that a fistfight is imminent. In fairness, Dennis did start said fight, but it's certainly Keith who finishes it, and he does so by repeatedly bouncing Dennis's head off the living room floor. Keith's partner finally has to run over and pull him off the guy, and now it's starting to look like Keith might actually be headed to Oz after all. ["And they called for [him] out of the prison house; and he made them sport." -- Judges 16:25] Heh. "Sport."
Back at the Fortress, the funeral is still in progress. Rico joins Dr. Dildo at the coffin, and there seems to have been at least some degree of reconciliation between them while we were away. Dr. Dildo puts a set of rosary beads into the coffin, explaining that his mother gave them to him when he was a little boy, and then Rico asks for permission to put in some pictures of his kids, who called her "abuelita." Aww. Man, even the Diaz kids are cool this week. Hell, if they can redeem Rico this quickly, I can't wait to see what they have in store for Brenda.
Over at the school, Claire has stopped by Counselor George's office, but before she can open the door, she sees through the window that he's crying. So instead of saying goodbye, she just silently places a framed picture of herself by the door, presumably so that he can replace the fake one of "Jenny" that used to be on his desk. And then she leaves, without even knocking. Farewell, George Gavemestress. Yours was the only relationship with Lauren that was even creepier than my own, and I totally respected you for it.
And now for the final flashback. Young Rico rides up to the Fortress on his skateboard, and finds The Late Nate cutting the grass in the front yard. I know I've been stretching for shout-outs this entire episode, but I really and truly did used to have that exact same model of lawnmower. I just thought you should know. Rico quickly offers to help out, and then thanks The Late Nate profusely for the job he did restoring the Posthumous Padre. And if my dead father nickname list wasn't already overtaxed, The Late Nate then starts reminiscing about his own dearly departed dad, The Really Late Nate. It's all very sweet and touching, and almost enough to make me not notice that the giant FedEx truck in the background is bearing a logo that wasn't adopted until three years after this flashback is supposed to take place. You can't really blame them for that one, though, as it passes by right in the middle of a great take, and it's the sort of thing that only detail-obsessed TiVo addicts like myself would ever notice. Rico hesitantly offers to help out around the Fortress, or even take a part-time job, and The Late Nate agrees to keep him in mind.
Alan Ball: The lawnmower? Oh, come on. That's going too far. Not everything is about you, you know.
Aaron: Yeah, I know. Everything is about Nate, remember?
Alan Ball: Oh, yeah.Okay. Here we go. It's taken me fifteen pages to get this far, and it may take me fifteen more just to recap this scene. But it's the one we've all been waiting for, so I want to make sure I do it justice. We start with Nate and Brenda out on her front porch, smoking a joint in broad daylight and yammering about ATM machines. Okay, first of all, smoking pot in public like that may not be the best idea even under ideal circumstances, but given what happened last time Brenda was doing that on the porch, don't you think she might not be too eager to repeat the experience with Nate around? Oh, wait. She wants to get caught. Never mind. Or perhaps I should say, "Oh, wait. The writers want us to hate her. Never mind." Either way, the effect is the same. Barely a minute goes by before Buttfuck rides up on his bicycle, prompting Nate to ask Brenda if she knows him. She claims to have only "seen him around," but Buttfuck quickly comes over to introduce himself and beg for a hit off the joint. Nate hands it over, and Buttfuck coughs like a fiend when he takes a drag. Heh. Newbie. "Whoa. This is the kind kind," he stammers between hacks. Of course it is, Buttfuck. Only the best for Alan Ball, my friend. There's some conversation about the trials and tribulations involved with purchasing pot, and then Buttfuck finally decides to take off. As he rides away, Nate spots his yin-yang baseball cap and hears him say, "Late," and the gears in that giant, rectangular head of his suddenly start to turn.
He races back into the bedroom, Brenda chasing after him, and quickly grabs her computer off the bed. "Turn it on!" he demands. "Fiction my ass. So everything you've written in here you've actually done?" Brenda frantically tries to grab the laptop out of his hands, insisting that its contents are "private." I'd mock her for leaving her "private" thoughts out on the table where everyone can see them, but I'm too busy counting "fucks" in the scene to bother. In case you were curious, there were twenty-five. In less than six minutes, no less. There were also six "shits," three "damns," and one "cunt from hell." That so has to be some kind of a record. The real screaming starts in earnest at this point, as they argue back and forth about all the crappy things they've done to each other. Brenda chews him out for impregnating Lisa and lying about his seizures, and also proves that she reads our forums by reminding Nate that she slept with him in an airport broom closet less than an hour after they met. Nate, on the other hand, asks if she's slept with Billy, and wonders why she didn't just break up with him if this is how she felt. It all touches on just about every aspect of their relationship, and I'd have to throw in about three hundred hyperlinks to recaps for you to fully appreciate the depth of the dialogue, so I'm not even going to try to transcribe it. Basically, their viewpoints can be boiled down to two simple lines. Brenda: "Nate, you created another human being…a person who might have a totally miserable fucking life and curse the fucking day she was born, because you're walking out on her the same way you're going to walk out on me." Nate: "Life doesn't have to be miserable just because you are. Oh, yeah, I know. 'Weird' shit happened to you, but you know what? It happened to all of us, and I am sick to death of you using it as an excuse to act like a cunt from hell." Amen, brother. Gee, do you think I might be a bit biased here? I just can't help it. The fact is, Nate may be a complete fuck-up, but at least he means well, and up until now he's always been willing to accept Brenda for who she is. Brenda, meanwhile, does bad things intentionally, and has rarely ever displayed anything but the overwhelming self-righteousness that's paradoxically only found in those with incredibly low self-esteem. Sure, she hates herself, which means it was utterly inevitable that she would come to hate Nate as well, but that's still no excuse for her behavior. Everyone hates themselves sometimes. It doesn't mean you get be an asshole.
In any case, the fight eventually moves out into the hallway, where Brenda reminds Nate that he picked her, and that he knew how "fucked up" she was and loved it, because "it made [him] feel good about [himself]." Well, at least she's adept at analyzing others, even if she can't see her own faults. "You just can't see it," she continues obliviously, "because you're so in love with the idea of Nate the good guy, Nate the hero, Nate the fucking saint with the fucking great haircut. The truth is that you would run from real love if it ever came at you." Um, "the fucking great haircut"? I can't tell if that's supposed to be a shout-out or a commentary on just how insane Brenda really is. I still laughed like a little girl, though. I'd also like to take a quick moment to give credit to both the actors and the director for this scene. Peter Krause and Rachel Griffiths are as terrific as you'd expect, and the director's decision to film everything with a hand-held camera really helps to capture the tension of the scene. I've yelled at them for being too "edgy" with the camerawork in the past, but here it totally works. Once the screaming is finally done, Nate stares at his fiancée for a moment, and then angrily yanks the engagement ring off his finger. "Don't you throw that ring at me," sobs Brenda. "That is such a fucking cliché. I'll fucking barf." And with a withering glare, Nate does exactly fucking that. "Here," he says, tossing it into the air. "Barf." It's the perfect line to end their relationship on, and he turns to leave The Promiscuity Palace forever. ["And Samson said unto them, 'Though ye have done this, yet will I be avenged of you.'" -- Judges 15:7]
Now see, on most shows, that would be more than enough for the final climactic scene. But not on Six Feet Under, no sirree Bob. Now we cut back to the Fortress, where Ruth is frantically cleaning everything in sight. She's interrupted by a phone call from Lisa, who's asking for Nate. After some small talk that makes it clear that these two are at least familiar with each other, Lisa drops the big baby bombshell -- namely, that said baby has arrived (early, allegedly, although that's up for debate, and has been in the forums all week). Lili Taylor manages to justify all the great things people always say about her acting with nothing more than a look of wistful annoyance when she discovers that Nate hasn't even told his own mother about his daughter. As she explains, and reveals that she's named the child Maya, Ruth is completely speechless. On the other hand, at least she doesn't have that evil smile she was wearing the last time she met Nate's kids.
Now we get a quick scene at the hospital, where Nate comes to visit me, uh, I mean, Aaron. Like most people, Nate has obviously realized that there's no surer way to feel better about yourself than spending a few minutes observing my life. Hell, that'd cheer up anybody. I do look pretty peaceful sleeping there in the bed, though. Nate sinks into a chair and thinks about the sad state of his life until his cell phone rings. It's David, and he's got a bombshell of his own: Kroehner has gone bankrupt, and is also the target of a federal investigation. I can only assume this plot point will play a larger role in week's finale, although the way they dropped Gilardi doesn't give me a lot of hope. Oh, hell. What am I talking about? He's sitting in AARON'S room, for God's sake. This is obviously the greatest show on television, and everything they touch is sure to turn to gold.
Unless it's Keith doing the touching, of course. He calls David from work to explain that he'll be home late that night, but it's not until after he hangs up that we get an explanation. A few more cops come into the room, and Keith sits down with yet another review board to examine his angry actions. I wonder how he and Said would get along?
And finally, Ruth comes to visit Lisa and the baby. Lisa has once again managed to find herself some ridiculously oversized accommodations, and if I'd only known that vegan cooking was so lucrative, I never would have gone into recapping. This scene is totally silent, except for the music, and Ruth sits in a rocking chair cradling her granddaughter's giant, oversized noggin. If that doesn't answer the questions about whether or not the baby is Nate's, I don't know what will. I guess if she starts growing fur or something, but that's about it. And if nothing else, Farscape fans can always take delight in calling the kid Maya the Leviathan, so really, everyone wins in the end. And speaking of the end, it's time to fade to white. I'll see you all back here for the finale, okay?
Aaron: Great episode, dude. That rocked!
Alan Ball: Aww, thanks. So what are you going to do with your week off?
Aaron: I don't know. I keep hearing great things about this "outside" place that all the kids are going these days.
Alan Ball: Nah, you don't want to do that. There's like, bugs, and shit out there.
Aaron: Good point. Pass the bong, would you?
Alan Ball: Here.
Aaron: [Flick. Gurgle.] Ahhhhhh. This is kind of fun, though.
Alan Ball: Yeah, it is.
Aaron: See? I knew we could be friends. What do you say week we get blitzed and rent Miss Congeniality?
Alan Ball: Get out. Now.