So I went to bachelor party last night, and during the course of the evening, all of the following topics came up naturally in conversation without any prompting from me: cock-piercing, threesomes, incest, ball-shaving, auto-erotic asphyxiation, having your mother walk in on you while you're engaged in oral sex, and the many varied and complicated rules to follow when staging a Jewish funeral. Now is this a case of life imitating art? Or do I just have really strange friends?
And while we're going off on tangents, here's some quick business: First off, Happy Mother's Day, Mom! Do me a favor and ignore that last paragraph, okay? Also, let's give major props to "Dave" for emailing to point out that I completely missed the best joke in last week's episode, which was the mural of a humongous baby's head that loomed over Nate and Lisa during their cheese vs. vomit dip argument at the art gallery. Thank God for TiVo, because that was fucking hilarious. And finally, you'll all be treated to a super-special guest recapper again week, because I'll be too busy spending my days packing up everything I own so that it can be moved a grand total of seven-tenths of a mile to my new apartment. So, you know, don't get worried and think I'm off missing somewhere when the recap comes in without my name on it.
We open on a group of young kids playing soccer in the park, and for the third time this season we're quickly teased with the death of a character we know and love. This time it's young Taylor, who gets a dramatic introduction when the camera pans up to show her sassing one of the other players about his kicking skills. This is immediately followed by a truly hilarious shot of her being menaced by the blades of a gigantic lawnmower that's creeping up behind her. Hee! Ahh, the opening gimmick. I've missed you so. Elsewhere in the park, Keith's parents (a.k.a. Kersh and Mrs. Kersh) are chatting with Mrs. Kersh's Aunt Jeanie about the questionable quality of her buttermilk pie. Taylor joins the conversation just in time to see Aunt Jeanie get stung by a bee, and it's soon obvious that her aunt is suffering a severe allergic reaction. She gasps and wheezes and eventually collapses to the ground, where Taylor hovers over her looking extremely worried. Kersh frantikally kalls his kontacts at the FBI to find out if this was one of those evil, genetically-engineered super-bees, but it's to no avail. Fade to white. Farewell, Jeanette Louise Bradford. I'm sorry that Keith, Kersh, and Karla had to kill you just to get some skreen time.
Fade back up on fucking. No, Nate and Brenda aren't back together. Yet. This time it's Rico and Vanessa. Now, Freddy Rodriguez is a great actor, so I feel kind of bad pointing out that he's tiny, and therefore given the way this shot is composed to make him look taller, probably grinding his pelvis somewhere in the vicinity of Justina Machado's bellybutton. That can't be good for her baby. You know, if there is one. Rico enthuses at length about the epic quality of their dry humping on this particular occasion, noting that it's especially great that Vanessa actually "wanted to." "I mean, it's been a long time since you…" he says, trailing off into silence. I'll leave you and your very dirty minds to finish the rest of that sentence. In a fan-fic, no doubt. Vanessa's new medications are obviously working, because she's all peppy and cheerful, and she even signed the two of them up for a dance class that evening so they can learn the salsa, the tango, and the merengue. "The merengue!" exclaims Rico. "My mother used to do that. She won trophies. Little tiny trophies, but trophies nonetheless." Vanessa doesn't even bat an eyelash at the mention of a non-dead mother, and instead leaps out of bed to go make coffee and wake the kids. Rico just lies there grinning like a fool, acting all manly and puffing out his freshly-waxed chest in a silent indictment of the crappy sex life of his significantly hairier co-star.
Oh my God! It's a car scene filmed in an actual moving car! Wow. What's , an episode without the word "fuck" in it? David and Keith have hit the highway to drive down for Aunt Jeanie's funeral, and David is examining the culturally-correct black Barbie they've bought as a present for Taylor. "When I was a kid I used to have GI Joes," he reminisces. "They were always getting court-martialed, which in my version meant they had to stand naked in front of the other dolls." Hee! "So is that something you'd like to act out?" asks Keith, sending all those fan-fic writers scrambling for the "New Document" button in Microsoft Word. "I think we've had enough excitement for a while," wet-blankets David, who is finally beginning to verbalize his discontent with the constant threesomes. "Oh, really?" Keith snarks. "So that wasn't you the other night begging us to arrest and interrogate you?" Heh. That's funny, but doesn't anyone else remember the days when Keith used to hate being the "Big Black Sex Cop" all the time? David grudgingly admits that the sex is "fun," but he still can't shake the nagging suspicion that the constant presence of strange men in their bed doesn't bode well for a healthy long-term relationship. This escalates into an argument about their respective communications skills as a couple, with David noting that Keith always wants him to express himself, but every time he does, Keith just "shuts down." Having failed to win the debate through the clever use of psychobabble, David decides to switch tactics and try a little exposition instead. "You're just tense because we're going to see your father," he says. "I don't have a problem with him," insists Keith. "I've been working on all that stuff in my individual therapy. That's all I talk about." David complains that Keith never mentioned any of this to him, and also grudgingly points out that he tells Keith everything. "That's because you want my approval," says Keith. "No, it's because I love you," David answers, with just the right amount of sarcasm. Incidentally, Mathew St. Patrick gets bonus acting points for this scene because he actually remembers to keep his eyes on the road while "driving." It's amazing what being in a real car can do.
Back at the Fortress, Nate is meeting with a HITG because the DGDJ is being buried somewhere else. The actor's name is Lenny Wolpe, and he's most memorable to me (and most of our forum denizens) as the Tourette's Syndrome sufferer from that one episode of L.A. Law. Oh, boy! Here, however, he's just a tearful guy trying to buy a casket for his dead wife. I have to admit that I really liked this scene the first time around, but I'm finding that it doesn't really hold up well under repeat viewings. It's just so blatant in its All-About-Nateness. The little details are all great (like the slow-to-illuminate fluorescent bulbs in the Coffin Wall), but the rest of it just seems like we're working down a checklist of Nate Fisher characterizations. You see, unlike the greedy and sanctimonious David, Nate has a "gift," which is why he tries to stop Mr. Wolpe from spending money on an extravagant casket that he doesn't really need. And you probably don't even need me to tell you that Mr. Wolpe's marital status mirrors Nate's own turbulent relationship. It seems Lenny took his wife for granted for many years, and even went so far as to cheat on her. But then one day he contracted anvilitis…er, "cancer," and finally wised up and realized that he really did love her. And then she died. Crushed by the massive Anvil of Foreshadowing, I suppose, only there's no body, so we'll never really know (StC is now at an incredible 5,987 and STILL counting). The scene ends with Lenny collapsing to his knees and shouting, "Oh, God! Oh, God! I loved her!" Oh, come on. Two "Oh, Gods" and not a single "Oh, boy" shout-out? Although I guess this season's obvious move away from all those wacky dream sequences would also preclude making such an obvious David E. Kelley reference. It's still a shame, though.
Cut to the kitchen, where Nate shuffles in and gets a drink out of the refrigerator. He sits down at the table, and an unfortunately framed close-up confirms my suspicion that Peter Krause has been getting consistently hairier as the season progresses. The pointy sideburns are back, and he's almost regained that tousled "I Just Walked Through Three Hurricanes And A Tornado And Don't I Look Fabulous?" hairstyle that served him so well for the first two seasons. Ruth starts babbling about something or other in the background, but Nate isn't listening. Instead, he's bawling like a little baby. There's been much speculation in the forums as to the reasons behind this, so I won't go into that here, but I will mention that Ruth doesn't seem fazed in the slightest by this somewhat odd behavior. She just walks up behind him and starts to massage his shoulders (StM = 462), saying, "I used to do this for your father all the time. His shoulders would get so full of knots. It's such a stressful job." The crying and massaging goes on for so long that Lisa actually has to tag in for Ruth and take over, yet none of them ever even think to ask Nate what's gotten him so upset. I was going to argue that it would have been more in character for Lisa to freak out and wonder what was wrong, but then I remembered that she reacted pretty much exactly the same way when Nate broke down in Seattle, so I guess that's not really true. In any case, this little Nate-centric segment of the show was very weird, and really the only unenjoyable part of an otherwise stellar episode.
Over at The Brotherfucking Boudoir (or, as E-Mail Dave suggested I call it, Billydelphia -- The House of Brotherly Love), Brenda and Billy are just waking up. Be sure to note, incidentally, the very clever way in which this scene makes it appear that Billy is the normal and well-adjusted one, while Brenda seems to be regressing back to childhood and hiding from all her emotional problems. That'll be important later. Billy is fully dressed and reading the newspaper here, whereas Brenda is huddled under a blanket with her nose buried in a Nathaniel & Isabel tome. "I don't remember these books being so dark," she announces. "These kids in the orphanage are being tortured." "That's the best part," replies Billy. There's some more of the de rigueur Chenowith psychobabble about "dark fantasy," and then Brenda comes across a particularly nasty section and exclaims, "Oh, Jesus!" Billy responds to this with a "Hmm?" that seems to say, "Are you talking to me?" Oh, yeah, that's a shout-out! Woo-hoo! Creepy Jesus has returned at last! Thanks, Scott Buck. Just for that, I'm going to pay to see Tremors 4: This Time They Finally Eat That "Family Ties" Guy. The disturbing section in question involves the Evil Nurse making Nathaniel and Isabel cane each other as punishment, and Billy wants Brenda to read that part out loud. Yeah. Of course he does. "You're sick," she mutters. "If by that you mean suffering from bipolar disorder with occasional psychotic episodes," he replies, "then yes, I am." Heh. And you don't even know the half of it just yet.
LAC Arts. Olivier makes a big production out of praising one of Claire's photographs as the rest of the class slaves away in the background on their own projects. God, this guy even sounds smarmy when he's trying to be nice. Which, technically, he really isn't doing here, but we'll get to his real agenda in a minute. Claire is all jazzed up by her professor's compliments, and she even makes a cute little art joke about Magritte and the size of his apples. Russell, meanwhile, is busy playing with knives and valiantly trying to use his hair to help make up for OPEC's shortfall in international crude oil production until the sanctions can be lifted on Iraq. Then he suddenly has a complete and utter freak-out, screaming, "I hate it! I hate everything! I hate this shit! It's all shit!" Now, see? Right there is when I knew this relationship was doomed. Russell is obviously a "shit" person, and we all know that the Fishers are "fuck" aficionados, so I really don't see what he and Claire have in common. The rest of the class just stares at this meltdown in silence, but Olivier decides to use it as a teaching opportunity. "You hate your work because you secretly hate yourself," he smarms. "Which means that you're still only thinking about and looking at yourself." Then he tells a faintly ludicrous story about putting some of his work in a car, which he then lit on fire and sent careening through the streets of Montmarte. Oh, whatever, Euro-Boy. We're totally going to find out one of these days that Olivier's real name is Oliver Castriale and he's actually from some hick Cajun town in Louisiana or something. He's probably never even left the country. "Tell me something, Olivier," snarls Russell from between the few strands of hair that he hasn't already plugged into the Trans-Alaskan pipeline. "If you know so much about art and life, how come you ended up being such a pathetic poser who needs people half his age to prop him up and make him feel good about himself?" Ooh, burn! Or at least it would have been a burn if Russell didn't do such a prissy job of storming out of the room. "He could have at least made an effort to slam the door," chides Olivier. "Young people have absolutely no commitment today." Sigh. You know what I hate? When the closed captioning has better comedic timing than the actor. It happened on that last line, and to be honest, it's a surprisingly common problem. I guess there probably aren't that many non-hearing-impaired people who use the captions enough to notice, though.
The Tofutti Tenement. Lisa is packing a bag in anticipation of a trip to visit her sister, and Nate is there describing his crying jag as "just a little meltdown." That seems to be a popular word this week. After the required exposition about Lisa's vacation, she quietly admits that she's actually looking forward to a few days without Maya. "That's because you're such a handful," says Nate, as he bends over to pick up his daughter. Maya, by the way, has totally stolen this entire scene by just sitting there quietly with a stuffed dog under her arm. It looks almost like she's watching a tennis match as she follows along with Nate and Lisa's conversation. Somebody get this kid a Baby Emmy! In fact, she's so cute that I won't even comment on the fact that the close-up scenes where the baby wasn't present don't really match well with the long shots where she was actually on the set. Nate wants to know if Lisa made any lists for him to follow while she's gone, but Lisa surprisingly seems to have unclenched her sphincter enough to trust Nate on his own for the weekend. She does, however, caution him not to let Ruth bathe Maya, because it's "like she's scrubbing a potato." She fails to add, "And keep him away from Arthur while you're at it. He's always trying to smell her and it creeps me out." Everyone gets a goodbye kiss (and here's a word I never thought I'd use about these two: "Schmoopy"), and then Lisa cryptically requests that they not walk her to the car because she doesn't want Maya to see her leave. Hmm. Foreshadowing, or just a loving mother leaving her child for the very first time? You be the judge.
Inside the house, Arthur is having a sock problem. No, really. He's laid out about thirty identical black socks on his bed, and he's trying to figure out which ones go with which. Am I the only one who thinks that Arthur has gone from charmingly off-beat to tiresome and incredibly annoying these past few weeks? Yeah. I didn't think so. My interest in diligently recapping this plotline is directly proportional to the blissfully miniscule amount of time I know it has left, so let's just get on with it, shall we? Ruth wanders into the room, and asks if they can have a little talk. "I'd like to know how you feel about the course our relationship is taking," she asks, and Arthur responds with a bunch of mumbo-jumbo about serendipity and the divine, which only confuses Ruth even more. "Does that mean, well, you know, intimacy?" she wonders. "I love intimacy," he responds. "Intimacy is my best friend." Heh. I'm always a sucker for clever puns, no matter who's doing the punning. Ruth continues probing about whether or not Arthur has any interest in hitting a Babe Ruth home run (so to speak), but the boy just doesn't seem to get what she's after. Finally she just breaks down and comes out with it: "So how do you feel about us having sex?" she inquires. Arthur is shocked and appalled by this notion, and is basically reduced to simply muttering a bunch of sentence fragments. "Well, I believe that sex can be…when two become one," he stammers. "It needn't always be painful, especially when there are no clothespins involved, but it is indeed a very slippery slope." It finally begins to dawn on Ruth what the problem might be here, and she asks (as tenderly as is possible when dealing with this particular question), "Arthur, have you ever had sex?" "I think I have," he replies. "In a sense." Ugh. I think I'm done with this guy. In every sense.
Elsewhere, David and Keith have finally arrived at Aunt Jeanie's funeral. Keith immediately starts walking over to the grave, but David calls for him to slow down so that he can catch up. "It would be nice if we could walk together, like every other couple in America," he complains. "Especially considering that I'm about to walk into a place filled with your every living relative." "So walk faster," replies Keith, earning a look from David that's half exasperation and half bemused respect. Once they finally make it over to the funeral area itself, David transitions straight into undertaker mode and starts making all sorts of snide little comments about the shoddy workmanship on display. He even starts reorganizing the little printed prayer guides that were left out for the mourners. Aww. It's really quite endearing, in a very morbidly anal-retentive sort of way. Keith's parents finally arrive with Taylor in tow, and it's hard to tell whether David, Keith, or Taylor is the happiest about their reunion. And come to think of it, I might actually be the happiest one. I've missed you, Taylor! Hugs are exchanged all around, and then significantly more awkward and polite greetings are made amongst the adults. Everyone heads for their seats, but David pauses for a moment to reflect on the fact that he's really something of an outsider here. Remember that later. Before he can resume his journey to the seating area, however, the organist comes over and asks, "Are you the funeral director?" At first David smiles at the irony, but then his inner professional takes over and he starts giving instructions on music selection. And then before you know it, he's even standing back there handing out prayer guides to new arrivals instead of sitting with his boyfriend. The undertaker's lot is a lonely one, I suppose.
Billydelphia. Brenda has come home from work for lunch, and her and Billy slip right back into their comfortable old sibling banter. Brenda tells a little story about how she got a massage from some guy at work, and Billy somewhat creepily offers to massage her himself sometime. I think the "ew" factor of that sentiment was significantly enhanced by the way it coincided with Brenda taking off her sweater to reveal a pair of immense, bra-less breasts under a very tight T-shirt. I don't remember Brenda being that well endowed, and I also don't like being forced into a place that makes me even consider thinking about my own sister's breasts, so I'm just going to skip ahead to the part, okay? They sit down at the table for lunch, and Billy hands over a videotape that I can only assume he purchased on eBay along with a Shaun Cassidy TV Movie of the Week and a complete box set of V.C. Andrews novels. It's an animated Nathaniel & Isabel movie, and they both happily agree to watch it that evening. Uh oh. I smell trouble, and it's not just because this is the third time I've watched this episode.
Or maybe that was Arthur I smelled, as he sneaks up on Ruth in the Fortress's laundry room. "I thought I'd find you here," he says, in the Arthur version of a pick-up line. "You certainly do keep to a schedule." He moves in to try a little nuzzling, but Ruth doesn't want to play. Noticing that she's doing her whites, Arthur asks if it would be okay if he threw in a few things of his own. "I have some kerchiefs and undershirts to do," he says. "Some people call them 'wife-beaters,' which I think is rather funny." "There's nothing funny about beating your wife," replies Ruth. Hee! "Perhaps you'd prefer it if our laundry didn't mix anymore," he wonders. "I don't care what our laundry does," snaps Ruth, as she turns and walks away. Buh-bye, Arthur. You had germs. You deserved to die.
LAC Arts. Russell returns to Olivier's empty classroom to find Claire waiting there alone for him. "I figured you had to come back and get your stuff," she explains, without ever stopping to think that actually going after him might have been a good idea. "Claire, I need to tell you something," he says, taking her hand. "The words every woman longs to hear," she replies. "Well, that and 'Marry me, Lauren,' of course." Russell pulls up a chair, and gathers his courage before the big reveal. "I fooled around with Olivier," he confesses, to the surprise of absolutely no one except for Claire. "That day you went to Azusa." Claire is obviously infuriated by this news, especially because he specifically lied to her about it on that very day. "Russell, I trusted you!" she shouts. "You told me I didn't have to be careful, that I could feel safe with you." Note the emphasis on the word "safe" here, incidentally, and all the condom-free connotations it implies.
"So, what? You really are gay?" she asks. "No, of course not," he answers. "I think I might be bi, but I'm not sure. I'm just really fucking confused." Oy. Remember what I said about break-up scenes last week? Yeah. That applies here, too. "You sure didn't seem confused every time we fucked!" she yells. "Or every time you told me you loved me, which I was stupid enough to believe." Oh, but you can believe me, Lauren. "I do love you!" he screams. "And nothing says that better than sucking your professor's dick!" comes the snappy retort. Heh. She starts questioning him about the details of the incident, and Russell's whole defense seems to be predicated on the fact that he was really confused. And high. And also confused again. Nowhere is there any indication whatsoever that the sex was non-consensual, and in fact it appears pretty clear to me that Russell had been contemplating the idea long before it ever happened. That's been a hot topic in the forums of late, but my question is why the people who think Olivier molested Russell aren't equally enraged by the fact that Ruth tried to sleep with an employee with an even larger difference in ages. Why is one cute and the other rape? Russell begs for forgiveness, but gets nothing more than a particularly virulent "Fuck you!" for his troubles. Claire storms out of the room, demanding that he never call her again, and this time she definitely manages to slam the classroom door. Buh-bye, Russell. You had grease. You deserved to die.
While everyone else's relationships are falling apart, Nate takes Maya for a quick stroll in the park. Because he's Nate, he immediately runs into a random guy who just happens to have a few subtextual anvils in his pocket. The guy is divorced, and he uses his two days a week with his baby to cruise the park for cute single mothers. He's doing pretty well at it, might I add, which causes Nate to give a little smile as he sits down on a bench to call Lisa. He dials his cell phone and then holds it up to his ear in an ominous brain shot, so you just know something bad is about to happen. When Lisa answers, we see that she's sitting on the hood of her car, gazing at the ocean somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway. They chat for a few seconds about the beauty of the ocean and the activities of baby Maya, who is cutely "preoccupied watching a squirrel at the moment," and then the connection starts to go all static-y. "Lisa, I'm losing you," says Nate, as Maya turns her gaze to the fiery anvils raining down from the heavens. Eventually he hangs up the phone, and then scores the cutest baby moment of the entire episode. "You know what's more beautiful than the ocean?" he asks his daughter. "You." Maya (as played by the Tosh twins, who finally scored a listing in the end credits this week) out-acts half the kids on network TV by giggling in embarrassment and hiding her giant head behind her arm. Aww. It's almost enough to make me want one of my own. I said "almost."
Aunt Jeanie's funeral. David and Keith stand off to one side, gazing out at the Kharles family's collection of cemetery plots. Keith isn't sure if he wants to be buried with the rest of his family, and David thinks it would be nice if the two of them could be buried to each other someday. You know, coming from anyone else, that would pretty much scream "incredibly desperate serial killer," but David manages to make it sound sort of sweet. Taylor wanders over to invite them back to the parents' house, and Keith takes a moment to ask a few very thinly veiled questions about whether Kersh is ever "mean" to her. "Grandma thinks Grandpa spoils me," she answers, "but I like it. He built me a bunk bed just because I asked him to. Even though I'm just one person, I get to sleep on the top or the bottom whenever I want." She also reports that Kersh was so excited that Keith was visiting that he went out and bought steaks, because he knew they were Keith's favorite. Sadly, that's the last thing we'll be hearing from Taylor for a while, because she doesn't get to make any more appearances in this episode. Oh, well. Buh-bye, Taylor! Come back soon, okay? You're way cooler than Russell or Arthur! Keith announces to David that he thinks he should have a talk with Kersh later that evening, which is a decision that David supports wholeheartedly. And then Keith even takes David's hand as they walk back over to the rest of the family. Aww. It's almost enough to make you think these two crazy kids might work things out. I said "almost."
Because they seem to exist in a space-time continuum that's completely independent from the rest of the cast, Rico and Vanessa are already at their nighttime dance class, despite the fact that it was just mid-afternoon in the last three scenes. Step, two, three, four. Step, two, three, four. Spin. Spin. Step, two, three, four. "You're so good!" gushes Vanessa. "Very suave, and you look so handsome." Oh, so many "Rico Suave" jokes, so little time. Why hast thou forsaken us, Gerardo? The dance instructor finally calls for a short break, which gives Rico a chance to relax by the bar and Vanessa an opportunity to demonstrate that she's definitely in more of a manic state than she is actually cured of her depression. She babbles to him at about three million words per minute, and even suggests that their entire family go dancing every single night. I did, however, get a little giggle out of the giant belch she releases after guzzling an entire bottle of water. And pregnant or not, Justina Machado is still way hotter than Penelope Cruz. Rico can't even get a word in edgewise, so perhaps it's for the best that he's completely blind to the somewhat scary psychological state of his wife. On the other hand, I totally want some of whatever it is she's taking.
Back to Billydelphia. The kids are watching the Nathaniel & Isabel video, which consists of the same horrible five frames-per-second animation that's normally associated with seizure-inducing Japanese robot cartoons. Brenda and Billy are crestfallen at how awful it is, with Brenda opining that it "looks like those drawings you see in the mall by someone's third grade class." The real insult comes, however, when Nathaniel saves his sister's life through the power of a magic tear. "A tear?!" shouts Billy. "He saves Isabel's life with a fucking tear?" "How did it happen in the book?" wonders Brenda. "Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," he answers. "Which makes sense!" Hee! It's funny, and also full of foreshadowing! Billy freaks out a bit about the way the video has been sanitized of all the book's dark undertones, and the only problem I have with this scene is that I can't believe Brenda wouldn't notice all the danger signs he's putting out here. She remains oblivious, however, even after Billy remarks that it was their dad who originally gave them the books, and now he's gone and the movie has ruined all their memories. "We're so damaged, Bren," he non-sequiturs. "We can go about our lives and pretend everything is going to be okay, but it never will be. Ever." He starts to cry, and Brenda starts to get clued in that maybe he's not okay here. "That's not true," she insists. "We're getting better, both of us." "I'm not," he replies with a sense of doomed finality. "I really don't feel like I am." She moves to join him on the couch, and gives a little pep talk about how Dad's death and her moving in has just dragged up a lot of issues for him. She wraps her arm around him and pulls him in close, and promises to stay and help him get through this with an expression on her face that says she's more than a little worried about what she might be getting herself into again. And then they kiss! And if you only knew how long I've been waiting to say that for real about a pair of overly-close siblings, you'd realize what a tremendous moment this was for me. Brenda reacts to the kiss with barely restrained horror, and she dives off the couch and runs for the door while Billy tries to insist he was just being "affectionate." "It was just a kiss," he claims. "No, it wasn't," she replies. Brenda bolts out of Billydelphia, insisting that she can't be around him anymore, and Billy is left to stand there alone and wonder, "What Would Creepy Jesus Do?"
You know what I liked the most about this episode, by the way? It's perfectly symmetrical. Everything that happens in the first half has an equal and opposite twin in the second half. Think about it. Nate crying in the kitchen because he loves Lisa is mirrored by Claire doing the same thing later on because she hates Russell. Billy kissing Brenda is mirrored by Brenda kissing Nate. David's exclusion from the Kharles family at the funeral is followed his jumping right into the fray during the big fight that ensues back at the house. Hell, even Claire and Ruth dump their boyfriends for almost completely opposite reasons. It's by far the tightest episode of the season structurally, and yet it still delivers on the emotion and characterization, especially with Ruth and Claire. That's what earned it a solid A, despite the presence of an StC (and StTM) value that's rapidly approaching infinity. Nice work.
And just to prove my point about symmetry, we now get another scene of Rico and Vanessa dancing, complete with a Matrix-worthy 360-degree variable-speed swirling camera shot that emphasizes the sudden dizziness of Vanessa's drug-induced crash. Rico pulls her off the dance floor when she starts to hyperventilate, and she frantically demands that he find some Xanax in the pill case she carries in her purse. He fumbles through all the various medications for a while before finally finding the right one, and then just sits there looking frightened as he holds her in his arms. I don't know what he's so worried about. Sure, she almost had a heart attack. But at least she doesn't have lice, right?
The Fortress. Claire comes downstairs to find Russell waiting for her in the funeral home lobby. It's your typical bad boyfriend begging for forgiveness scene, only with an extra-greasy layer of creepiness added by the vaguely stalkerish subtext of Russell's entreaties. "I don't want this to end," he pleads. "I need this. I need you. I know I'm confused, but the one thing that I'm completely sure of is that I love you." "And I believe you," she answers. "But I've been through this before. I am not some nurse who's here to take care of the misfits!" Hmm. I sure hope that wasn't another shout-out. "I'm going to change your mind," he declares. "I swear. I would cut out my heart and give it to you in a box if it would change anything." Oy. It's the "in a box" part that makes that sound so sinister. I can totally picture him building the box out of leftover scraps from the spiral sculpture he made last week. And besides, you just know that Van Gogh bit from a few weeks ago is going to come back to bite him in the ass. Or the ear. Or the heart. Whatever. Claire's response to this offer is to point out that the only thing cutting out his heart would change is the fact that he'd be dead. Then she runs back into the house, and starts crying as she passes through the kitchen. See? This is where the episode starts folding back on itself. Ruth is there to observe, just like she was before, only this time she starts crying herself when Claire won't accept a massage. It's all about the massage, my friends.
The Kharles House. David and Keith come downstairs after putting Taylor to bed, sighing over the fact that she now claims to be too old to play with Barbies. Hmm. I wonder if that means David gets to keep the doll? You know he wants to. Kersh is predictably sullen, which David takes as his cue to distract Mrs. Kersh by offering to help with the dishes. Keith joins his father on the sofa, and asks if they can have a talk. "I know things haven't always been so smooth between you and me," he begins, before admitting that he was "pretty much traumatized" by the way he and Karla were punished as children. "That was abusive," he continues. "You were probably just repeating what happened to you, but it did a number on me, and I know it did one on Karla." Kersh is incensed that his son has the temerity to "forgive" him for anything. "I disciplined my children when they deserved it," he shouts, as he stands up from the sofa. "I gave you a home, I gave you food to eat, I taught you how to be a man, and you want to forgive me? You better get on your knees and thank me, and maybe I'll forgive you for being a faggot." Ouch. And the "get on your knees" part adds just the right amount of obvious homophobic self-loathing to make it really painful.
David comes back out of the kitchen at this point to stand in the background and listen, but Keith seems to have decided that the argument is over. He turns to walk away, but Kersh tries to grab his arm, which causes Keith to react and shove his father away. Violence appears to be imminent, but David suddenly positions himself between the two men, and tries to calm things down. "Your son was only trying to reach out to you," he explains, but Kersh only gets angrier. When David tries to justify his presence in this family quarrel by saying that he's "the man your son is in love with," Kersh tells him that their relationship makes him sick to his stomach. "How the fuck can you act so goddamn superior when everyone here knows you beat your kids and you cheated on your wife?" shouts David, but Keith has finally had enough. "This isn't the place for you to say any of that stuff," he tells him. "This is my family. Stay the fuck out of it." "Then I can't be here," replies David, before rushing out the door. Well, that was…abrupt, I guess. And to be honest, I kind of have to side with Keith on this one. Family is family, especially when things get ugly. If they'd been together for twenty years, maybe David would have a point here, but these two can't even have sex anymore without picking up an extra boy-toy or two in a bar first, so it's not like he should really expect Keith to take his side over Keith's own father. In any case, Keith doesn't even try to run after him, which is probably somewhat telling. "You should have knocked his teeth out for what he said to me," snipes Kersh, just to prove once and for all that he really is a bad father. "You're pathetic," replies the angry son. And…scene. Whew. That was almost as bad as a break-up. Probably because it might actually have been a break-up. We'll just have to wait and see on that one.
Schrödinger's Flat. Nate is acting out that infamous Tom Cruise "Old Time Rock & Roll" dance scene from Risky Business, only he's wearing jeans instead of tighty-whities, and he's carrying a baby instead of doing splits on the sofa. So actually, it's really nothing like that scene, except in the sense that he's blasting music and dancing around like an idiot because no one else is home. "I know it's a little bit different than the music Mommy plays," he explains to Maya, "But I just don't think I can stand to hear The Wiggles sing 'Dance The Oobie-Doobie' one more time without tearing my head off." Heh. Doobie. Leave it to Alan Ball to sneak a pot reference into a children's song. A knock at the door interrupts their little sock-hop, and Nate shouts for their visitor to come inside, on the assumption that it's the pizza guy. "Are you ready for your first taste of pepperoni?" he asks Maya. Aww. And what with the diet of strained tofu and fenugreek-laced breast milk Lisa probably has the kid on, I'm betting pepperoni would really hit the spot right about now. Mmm, processed meat. Unfortunately, the "pizza guy" turns out to be Brenda, who's standing in the doorway looking sad and lost and apologizing because she "didn't know where else to go." Some brief chitchat establishes that Lisa is gone for the evening, and then Brenda responds to Nate's question about what's troubling her with one simple word: "Billy." Sensing that this conversation might take a while, Nate decides to place Maya in her playpen, and then sends us into another scene so that he and Brenda can have time to prepare.
Inside the house proper, Ruth and Claire are curled up on Claire's bed, drinking tea and commiserating about the sorry state of their love lives. "Ever since your father died," sighs Ruth, "I've just flitted from man to man. I'm so embarrassed. Especially about Ed Begley Jr. I mean, what was I thinking?" Mindful of the lengthy string of abject losers Mom has managed to notch on her headboard of late, Claire tries valiantly to put the best spin on things. "You got married when you were nineteen," she protests. "You never even got to have your sexual twenties, so why shouldn't you do it now?" This leads Ruth to tell the story of how she got pregnant the first time she ever had sex, only Claire initially misinterprets this to mean that she might have "like a love-child half-brother somewhere." "No, no. It was Nate," corrects Ruth. "Nathaniel and I had to get married right away. Both our families were mortified. It changed my life forever." When her daughter asks if she ever wonders how her life might have been different, Ruth replies, "I used to. Not anymore." Then she takes a long sip of her tea, as if perhaps to cover the little white lie she's just told. "Were you and Dad in love with each other?" wonders Claire. "Oh, yes," Ruth assures her. "Despite how we grew apart, your father was the great love of my life." This sends Claire (and a significant portion of the viewing audience, as well) to the brink of tears, as she laments the fact that she never really got to know The Late Nate as an adult. Or at least the live Late Nate, that is. After all, she's probably got the best post-death relationship with him out of anyone on the show. "I miss him, too," confides Ruth. "There will never be another man who will love me when I'm young and pretty and then always have that picture of me somewhere in his heart." "Oh, Mom!" responds a shocked Claire. "You're so pretty! You're beautiful. Why do you think all these men are always hitting on you?" Heh. "You're so sweet," Mom replies. "But look at the men! I'm sitting here crying over Arthur. Arthur! And I thought Ed Begley was bad!"
Claire's advice on how to handle The Arthur Incident is rather succinct, although no less worthwhile for its brevity: "Run," she suggests, before turning the conversation back to her own screwed-up romances. "I feel sorry for Russell," she admits. "I mean I hate him, but I feel sorry for him. Why is it that I attract every screwed-up guy in the state?" In the state? Oh, sweet, naive Lauren. You've gone national now, babe. "It's because they can see what a kind soul you have," explains Mom. "That you're caring and sensitive, with flowing red locks and skin like pale moonlight reflecting off the ocean waves. Not to mention the way you look so cute when you're nervous, and that little thing you do with your…" "Mom!" interrupts Claire. "Stop channeling Aaron and help me with my problems, dammit!" "Sorry," agrees Ruth, before cutting to the heart of the matter. "The real question is why do you like them?" "It's like I'll fall for any guy who shows an interest in me," answers Claire. Well, not ANY guy, apparently. Sigh. "I guess we all want to be loved," replies Ruth, imparting the wisdom of the experienced. And also the desperate. "It's hard to say no to that, no matter who it's coming from. Unless it's some freak on the internet, of course. Then you just need to run." Aww. Sniff. Best. Scene. Ever.
Out in The Boredello, Brenda is bitching about her decision to cohabitate with her co-dependent sibling. "Right from the very beginning there was this voice in my head saying, 'Don't move in with Billy,'" she says. "So what I do? I move in with Billy. I'm so self-destructive." Yeah, but at least you're the only Chenowith who doesn't actually obey the voices she hears in her head. That'll come in handy when they start telling you to burn things. "Maybe you wanted to believe the world is a better place than it really is," offers Nate. "You're just a very positive person." "Hmm. That doesn't sound like Brenda," says the little voice in my head. "Now go burn something." Flick…ahh. "That doesn't sound like me," confirms Brenda, causing my internal demons to gloat and sending Nate on a long, Hallmark Hall of Fame-esque rant about the perils of hope and the crushing despair of unrealized expectations. "Wow, you've really thought about this," gushes Brenda. "Actually, I picked that up while I was just shopping for a 'Sorry Our Marriage Didn't Work Out' card down at the drugstore this afternoon," replies Nate. "I finally picked one with a cute little cartoon skunk on it. Wanna see?" Okay, not really. What he actually says is, "I'm just talking out of my ass here. I have no clue whatsoever. All I know is that you're a good person who deserves to be happy, even if that means kissing your brother or fucking the neighborhood teenagers." "So are you," says Brenda, "although not so much that part about the neighborhood teenagers, what with that little girl from The People and all." They share a long, chemistry-laden silence for a few beats, and then Brenda stands and awkwardly announces that she should be leaving. Nate rises to walk her to the door, and demands a goodbye hug (in lieu of a massage, I suppose) before finally letting her go. And then they kiss! Really! I've actually rewound and rewatched it several times to try and see who the instigator was here, but it seems mostly mutual to me. Nate holds the hug a little longer than strictly necessary, but it's Brenda who moves in first for the actual kiss. And either way, it's definitely a good one. I can tell because I actually saw Peter Krause's tongue, which is getting a little hairy itself, by the way. They finally pull apart with some halfhearted protests about the inappropriateness of it all, and Brenda actually has to remind a somewhat dazed Nate that he's married. "I'm so sorry," she cries. "I'm worse than Billy." Yeah. Because adultery is so much less acceptable than incest. Although I guess I should be fair and point out that avoiding adultery is one of the top Ten Commandments, whereas "Thou shalt not covet thy sister's lips" is relegated to somewhere around number six hundred and twelve. That joke is funnier if you're Jewish. Brenda bolts from The Boredello, insisting that she has a place to stay for the evening, and Nate is left to stand there alone and metaphorically return to the prison of his marriage by locking the baby gate closed behind her. Aww. Don't be too sad, Nate. No matter how annoying she may get, living with Lisa is still better than sharing a pod with Schillinger.
Cut to a bus station, where the LWSD II greets David with a jaunty, "Hey, sailor!" Heh. Apparently David called and left a long, rambling message on the boy's answering machine, because Patrick has arrived to drive the deeply depressed David home, and also to get in some extra work on his sneaky season-long mission of stealing David away from Keith. Which seems to be working out quite well, quite frankly. And I'm not really sure how I feel about this little development. I mean, I can totally picture these two together, and Patrick is certainly better than the original Little White Sex Dork, but even the heterosexual in me can still appreciate the glaring aesthetic drop-off in play here. Besides, we really need to keep Keith around, if only so that he can give Lex Luthor a run for his money as the sexiest gay bald man on a TV show that starts with the letter "S." I'm sorry, what's that? Oh, please. Sit down, Stanford. You're not even close.
As an obviously inexperienced adulterer, Nate makes the mistake of attempting to sublimate his guilt by calling the spouse. Ahh, Nate. Don't you realize that if Lisa can smell smoke on your clothes, she'll definitely be able to hear Brenda's lips in your voice? Fortunately, Lisa hasn't arrived at her sister's house yet, and a call to her cell phone goes unanswered. The call forwarding, however, routes Nate to Foreshadowing's answering service, and he breathily tells them that he "just wanted to hear [Lisa's] voice and know that [she's] okay."
We wrap things up tonight with a bedtime montage. First Rico tries to get Vanessa out of her dress and under the covers, but the combination of Xanax, merengue, and half the contents of a hospital drug-storage locker has rendered her almost completely unconscious. So instead he just throws a blanket over her, and gently runs his hand down her side. we see Claire, who rolls over in bed and seems somewhat surprised to find Mom sleeping beside her. Ruth does not, thankfully, coo like a pigeon on Ecstasy at this point, and instead Claire just smiles a bit and goes back to sleep. Arthur, meanwhile, gets a depressing little shot where he has to go to bed all by himself, although I'm not exactly sure why that would be depressing to a guy who doesn't even know what sex is. Finally, we see Brenda checking into a dingy roadside motel, and you can clearly tell she's hit rock bottom by the fact that the TV on the check-in counter is playing Baywatch. Shudder.
And then Nate tries yet again to call Lisa, and this time he's starting to get a little frantic. "I was hoping to reach you," he tells her voicemail. "It's late and I'm starting to worry. I love you. Call me." He puts down the phone and slowly climbs into bed to Maya, who then puts an emphatic final stamp on her breakout episode by throwing her legs into the air and yanking off a tiny little sock just as we fade to white.
You know what? It's a good thing I'm off week. When I start gushing about how cute babies are, you know it's time for a vacation. I'll see you kids from my new place for the final two episodes. Knowing HBO, they'll probably both be six hundred and twelve minutes long.