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The season opens with SAMCRO’s homecoming, which is a bittersweet occasion.
The bitter: Mayor Hale used eminent domain to take Osborn’s land and dragoon him into doing construction on the new yuppie settlement Charming Heights. The bitter: The new sheriff in town, Roosevelt, is an incorruptible man of the law and he is going to be on SAMCRO like John Madden on turkducken. The bitter: Prison demonstrated to Clay that he has maybe two years left before he has to step down. The bitter: A purposeless Unser is a hot, forest-dwelling mess.
The sweet: Most of the club is no longer in jail. The sweet: Opie and Lyla are getting hitched. The sweet: Jax and Tara are engaged.
So how does SAMCRO commemorate the occasion? The club uses their first day of freedom/full strength to address two things that are vexing them, i.e. Russians and real estate. By murdering all their Russian business partners (in a sequence not unlike the end of The Godfather), SAMCRO is able to rejigger their arms-distribution deal so they take a bigger cut. And by dumping the bodies on the Charming Heights land, they’re able to scare off would-be investors in the hopes of stalling, if not outright killing, the project.
Want more? The full recap starts right below! Previously on Sons on Anarchy: First up, I recommend you read the background from last season's inaugural episode, or else none of this will make a lick of sense.So you're finished? Here's what happened last season: Jax and the rest of the club attempted to find Abel, a task made considerably more difficult by two factors: the club's Irish charter was actively hindering the search, and the search was being carried out by men who had clearly never read a Hardy Boys book in their lives and thus had no clue how one runs down leads. But the boys eventually blundered their way into figuring out that young Abel was in Ireland, and leaned on Osborne to get them over to the Emerald Isle. At the last minute, Gemma -- who had, over the course of the first few episodes, reunited with her dementia-addled father, managed to kill his caretaker, turned herself in for the murder charges Agent Stahl had jimmied up against her and had a major cardiac event -- decided to join them.
This made the trip to Ireland especially awkward, as Gemma's first husband had a second old lady stashed over there, which led to him having a second family (this time, a daughter) in Ireland as well. Things were not warm between Gemma and Maureen, despite the fact that it was Mo who dropped the dime on where Abel was. Anyway, SAMCRO chased leads all over Ireland and eventually, the club found the Catholic black market orphanarium where Abel was deposited. Gemma then waved around a gun at some babies; a terrified nun divulged Abel's whereabouts and a terrified Hollywood Foreign Press body found a Golden Globe in the "clean britches" drawer and promptly handed it over to Katey Sagal.
Anyway, Abel and Jax were reunited, and once everyone was stateside, the club turned its energies to figuring out how on earth the majority of members were not going to go up the river for the twenty years on account of waving a bunch of guns at a bunch of churchgoers back in season two. Jax hatched a complicated deal with Stahl, which involved handing Jimmy O over to the Feds in exchange for a) most of the charges being dropped for the club, b) Gemma being cleared of all charges, and c) the boys going to jail for a mere 14 months. Stahl attempted to double-cross Jax by outing him to the club as a rat, but it turns out Jax was playing both sides and had somehow constructed a plan that managed to: A) buy Jimmy O off the Russians who were protecting him, thanks to a truckload of fake money; B) Hand Jimmy O over to Chibs for some icy, refreshing revenge; C) Hand Stahl over to Opie for some not-quite-so-icy but definitely entertaining revenge, and D) keep in place the deals that kept Gemma a free woman and SAMCRO in prison for a scant 60 weeks.
Sideline plots that were relevant and thus will be brought up this season: Opie and Lyla are a thing, which -- whatever. He had a problem with her day job; she had a problem with an unwanted pregnancy. Guess which problem was gone by the end of season three? Tara was pregnant by Jax. SAMCRO and the Mayans were now friends with benefits, in a totally hetero, drug-trade kind of way. In the season opener, some idiot conducted a "spray and pray" during Halfsack's funeral that managed to take out the good Deputy Hale, thus arousing the town's ire and opening the door for his sleazebag brother to get elected mayor, and boy, did Hale the Lesser have plans for Charming. At the top of his to-do list: eliminating Charming's local police department and placing the town under the San Joaquin County sheriffs.
Now that we're all caught up on last season, let's get into this one.
The episode opens with one of Charlie Hunnam's contractually obligated beefcake shots. He's sitting on his bunk in a jail cell, writing, shirtless. As one does. He's got a few scars under his ribs that he didn't used to have. (Those of you who are following the Sons of Anarchy social media streams know that Jax was shivved by some Russians mere weeks after beginning to serve time.) A guard comes up and tells Jax that it's time to go.
The music kicks into higher gear -- it's a lovely song about how people will soon go free -- and we kick into montage mode. We see Abel, much taller, standing at a coffee table and coloring; Tara's sitting nearby in an armchair and re-reading the letters between noted cut-and-run artist John Teller and the lovely Maureen. As the lyrics repeat "I ain't open my eyes 'til we all are free," we see a shot of Tara's face. She looks troubled. (I should just program a keyboard macro to type that sentence. It will probably save me time this season.) Anyway, upon a knock on her office door, Tara stuffs the letters in her satchel; Abel promptly pulls out Maureen's cover note and begins coloring on it.
"It's a cold war," the song continues, and we see Clay lurch down the row of cells. Then quick cut to Gemma, who is tending to the adorable Thomas Teller (Jax and Tara's son; again, you social-media types probably already saw the clip where she brought the newborn to the prison to meet his daddy). Then we see all the guys who went down for the gun charges -- Happy, Tig, Bobby Elvis, Juice, Clay and Jax -- all ushered into a holding cell, where they are reunited with the items they brought with them on the day they were admitted. Then the door opens and the light bathes Jax's face, and then he has to duck because the symbolism's traveling right behind it, nearly as fast.
Clay leads the crew outside, and because all the guys are in t-shirts, blue chambray shirts and jeans, it looks like a Gap-sponsored remake of Reservoir Dogs. Then we zip back into the prison, where a guard is bringing Big Otto his breakfast on death row (or solitary; potatoes, po-tah-toes, given the iniquities of the California penal system), and we see that for his morning repast, Big Otto is having hard boiled eggs with a side of razor blade. (And as he finds the blade, the lyric sings, "It's not the hand that cuts/ it's the heart he left behind/ It's not the hand that cuts/ it's the hatred deep inside." I need to turn on a light; it's gotten dark what with all the foreshadowing on the screen.)
Anyway, the boys head out to the waiting arms of their brothers. Opie and Jax rush into each other's arms. In a totally straight way, of course. Opie hands Jax his cut and tells him it's good to see him on the outside; Jax exposits, "Big day for both of us, huh?" "Wouldn't do it without you," Opie replies. These guys are one plot twist away from moving to Vermont and opening a dairy together. Chibs and Bobby Elvis have an affectionate reunion. Tig is grinning -- grinning! -- at Kozik and he says, "I knew you'd vote in when I was gone, you pussy!" Then they also hug. Clay's got his helmet on and he bids everyone to get on their bikes and ride. The motorcycles peel out, with one poor prospect driving the van behind them all. As everyone roars by Stockton, they wave -- no, wait, waving usually involves all the fingers on the hand, not just one.
Back in the prison, we see a pool of blood forming in the hall outside Big Otto's cell door. When the guard opens it, Big Otto falls out. Call me a cynic, but if Otto wanted to die that badly, he'd have stuck his wrist in the sink or toilet and bled out there. The man wanted to be found. But why?
Meanwhile, his brothers are tearing through the mountains, past the big slice of redwood bearing the legend: "Welcome to Charming. Our name says it all. Population 14,679." Then, as the club rounds a corner, they see heavy equipment at work clearing trees and moving ground, and a sign informs us that Charming Heights is coming soon: "New custom homes: Small town living, modern luxury." Your lyric accompanying this revelation: "What a thing to tell/ the poison in the well." Would you all like to know how luxurious these places are: "Granite accents, limestone detailing, teak and mahogany flooring options, Italian stone builders, customizable deluxe living spaces, infinity pools." I look forward to finding out how Hale & Associates (developers) and Oswald Construction (contractors) think they're going to convince the type of buyers who want masstige semi-custom options for their McMansions to sink their money into an area with no discernible tax base or commerce.
Clay and the rest of the guys haven't thought this through to the "Who in Sam Hill is going to buy these luxury houses in a remote area in the midst of an economic downturn? Nobody!" conclusion. They're merely horrified by the fact that this project exists at all. Or perhaps they're horrified that known arsonist Opie hasn't taken any initiative with this development yet.
Anyway, we zip to the barbershop in town, and we meet the new sheriff right as Floyd the barber (hee!) is clipping him bald as an egg. The sheriff rolls out the door, and we see a lot of uniforms and SUVs just hanging around. Across the street, a lanky man we've never seen before strides toward his own motorcycle, absently patting the pockets of his jacket. The gentleman in question looks like the end result of a breeding experiment between Abraham Lincoln and Tom Petty. And for all that he's got a bike, he's not MC material.
SAMCRO comes rolling into town and all those law enforcement SUVs pull out and block the main street. Our new man quietly rolls away, unnoticed, as SAMCRO stops. Clay unsnaps his helmet and drawls, "If you're the welcoming committee, I was hoping for flowers, maybe a Bundt cake." The sheriff smiles and says easily, "I'm sorry -- no cake." Then he fills us all in: Charming is now under the jurisdiction of the San Joaquin sheriff's department and he, Lieutenant Roosevelt, is the new sheriff in town. Although Jax is giving him lip, Roosevelt calmly points out, "The conditions of your release state no gang colors or identifying clothing may be worn in public." And according to the federal government, SAMCRO qualifies as a gang, "so the time I see any one of you who got out today wearing cuts, well ... they'll belong to me. We clear? Welcome home, gentlemen!" Roosevelt finishes with the kind of friendly smile that usually accompanies the sentiment "Have a nice day," as opposed to "I will watch you like a shark watches a sea lion."
By the way, Lieutenant Roosevelt is played by the marvelous Rockmond Dunbar, whom you avid F/X watchers will remember from the late, lamented Terriers as Detective Mark Gustafson (Hank's ex-partner) and whom I will always think of as Prison Break's C-Note. Who made me cry! Dunbar's very good at playing irritable, principled men, and I look forward to seeing how he's deployed on this show.
We go to the credits before we find out if there's a third strike against a happy homecoming. After the credits, we're at Teller-Morrow motors. There are kids playing on the playground, and Tara -- out of her doctor's coat -- is standing and swaying with Thomas. Piney approaches her, tickles Thomas on the chin, then tells Tara, "History's dead, sweetheart. It's got to stay that way." (And again, you social media types will recall the clip of Tara approaching Piney with questions about John Teller's death and Piney telling her in no uncertain terms, "I can't hear you, ha la la la la la la!") He walks off, and Tara anxiously watches him go. Gemma comes over and smooths Tara's hair as she asks, "Are you okay?" Tara turns to Gemma and smiles as she admits she's anxious. Gemma tells her, "I'm proud of you. Ain't easy making thing works when they're inside. You did great." Tara fervently says that she couldn't have done it without Gemma. Gemma modestly says, "I'm just me. It was the whole club." Tara smiles again at Gemma and says shyly, "Yeah, it's true." Gemma strokes her hair again. "I love you," Gemma says. "Me too," Tara replies, and they hug. I am practically giddy -- y'all know how much I love the complicated relationship between Gemma and Tara, and they've had 14 months without the menfolk around to bond as the mother and daughter each one never had.
It's homecoming time! Much, much hugging. After Jax says hello to his wife and sons, his mom comes over and he hugs her. Then Gemma nods her head over to Tara (who's putting Thomas in his stroller) and says, "She did good." "Yeah, she did great," Jax says. Gemma hands over a paper bag, one that's fairly flat, and says, "I picked out the one you wanted." Then Clay comes back over to snuggle Gemma and ask where Unser is. No idea -- and any further discussion is cut off when Clay rears back in alarm at Chuckie. He's come out to say hi, and he's now big, foam Muppet hands surrounding his lonely little index fingers. Gemma explains, "I bought him fingers. Those shitty little nubs were freakin' me out." Tig is just delighted by this turn of events, and leaps into Chuckie's arms asking, in the same tone one usually uses to talk to infants, "Were you freaking her out? Were you freaking her out? You were freaking her out!" Tig is a man of complicated humor.
We zip to Roosevelt's office, where the mystery Lincoln science experiment has let himself in. Delightfully, his name actually is Lincoln! He's Lincoln Potter, assistant U.S. attorney, a man of quiet, oddly paused speech. We establish that the Department of Justice is renting an office on the third floor, and that Potter's already gone to the trouble of talking to Roosevelt's boss about whether it's okay to talk with Roosevelt about a subject to be named later. Roosevelt, still personable, is clearly not sure what to make of this, and cautiously says he'll be up later.
Then a puff of brimstone announces the presence of Mayor Hale (the lesser), and the three all stand around looking at each other until Potter excuses himself. He's deeply unsettled Hale, which makes me like him already. Then Hale gets to the point of his visit: Does Roosevelt truly appreciate the depths of Hale's hatred for SAMCRO and is he ready to abuse his power in order to make sure Hale can persecute these guys? Or, as Hale would put it, the mayor is concerned about the six convicted felons who just rolled back into town today. Roosevelt cordially points out, "I've dealt with gangs for the last 15 years. Neutralizing their power is not going to happen in a day." Hale's all, "I'm only asking for the good of the city and not because I'm an unctuous sleazeball," and Roosevelt's all, "Sir, it is all I can to do keep a neutral expression on my face because the bullshit you're shoveling smells so bad," and the minute Hale leaves Roosevelt's office, he's all, "Oh, eff me."
The club's in church, and Chibs is handing out fat sacks of cash to the returnees, explaining that it's their back pay for the last 14 months. Opie exposits that the gun trade has been very, very good to them, even if they are only taking small percentages. Jax growls that the days of small percentages are over, and then Clay demonstrates his leadership chops by calling out Piney, Opie, Chibs and Kozik and telling them all they did an outstanding job holding the club together. Chibs is all, "'Twern't nothin'," but Clay rumbles that the four of them have his deepest appreciation.
We then move on to new exposition. Opie tells us, "The rich yuppies are fleeing Stockton. The city's a war zone," a premise that is not entirely untrue in re: Stockton and quality of life, but I'm curious as to how these yuppies have the wherewithal to flee Stockton since its real estate market is in the tank. Anyway, Opie says, "Hale's got a shitload of presales and just needs a few more investors before he starts swinging hammers." Clay then asks what the deal is with Oswald, and we find out that Hale effectively neutralized him, first by pushing through a new on-ramp to California Highway 99, then by using the ramp as an excuse to seize Oswald's land under eminent domain. Since Oswald lost millions of dollars, he's supposed to earn it back by providing lumber and labor to the development. And since the Hale project is providing lots of construction jobs, the town's for it. Only SAMCRO seems to grasp that the jobs are all short-term gigs and the end result will be a housing market most long-term residents are priced out of. Clay has an issue with that. No doubt part of it is motivated by fear: It would be heartbreaking to be approaching retirement age and to be priced out of the town you've spent your adult life in. Clay fulminates on the evils of Hale's plans for a while, then vows, "We're not going to let this happen." Bobby Elvis rolls his eyes all, "Here we go again," while Chibs shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
After that awkward silence has lingered on long enough, Jax decides to break it with a little casual racism: "Black and proud Sheriff Roosevelt. What's up with him?" We learn that SAMCRO's aware of his anti-gang background, and Roosevelt's been on the job 10 months. Opie says, "He's let us know he's here, but this is the first time he's whipped his dick out." Jax concludes that today's show was about "letting us know it's not going to be business as usual." Given that SAMCRO business as usual involves trafficking the kinds of firearms that make Stockton so unattractive to the yuppies who want to turn Charming into Carmel-by-the-Sierras, maybe, just maybe, SAMCRO could reconsider the wisdom of "business as usual" anyway. Piney warns, "You're not going to get the sheriff on your payroll. This boy's a straight-up cop." And to that I say, hallelujah. The moral vacuum that sprang from David Hale's death needs to be filled.
on the agenda: meeting with some Russians at the Jellybean lounge. Jax impatiently asks what it is with Russians and strippers, and Opie leaps to defend the honor of strippers everywhere by calling the jellybeans in question "horsemeat in a g-string." Cut to Tig: "I love the Jellybean." "Of course you do," Juice says. A beaming Happy avers, "I love it too!" "And the freak circle is complete," Juice says drily. (His hair grew out in prison, and it looks really good on him, by the by. I am going to cry real tears if he shaves it back into that mohawk.)
We get to the final item: Opie and Lyla are getting hitched on the southwest corner of the Wahewa reservation, 6 p.m. sharp. Opie deadpans, "I know how much is in those envelopes, so those wedding gifts better not be bullshit." Ha! And now, the guys are off to commit crimes or whatever before the evening nuptials.
As they exit the church, hulking prospect Filthy Phil informs Clay that there are two sheriffs keeping an eye on the clubhouse from down the block. Since a tail is bad business for SAMCRO, Clay decides that Jax and Opie will go with him to the Jellybean, the rest of the guys can distract the sheriffs and Squiggy (who sat silently through church) can follow with the tow truck. Squiggy asks plaintively, "Is this 'cause you're upset with me?" and Juice smacks him down with, "We're on parole, genius. We can only congregate when working." It must feel good for Juice to be the one telling someone they're an idiot instead of the other way around. Tig approaches Clay and says, "I should be with you," but Clay says he needs him to make sure the tail is diverted. Sensing that Tig is upset about this, Bobby Elvis comes over and says, "We get the fun stuff." "Promise?" Tig asks as they head out.
And now, many men riding motorcycles as loud music plays. Then there are shenanigans with regards to shaking the sheriff's tail. To make a long story short: Tig, Bobby Elvis, Kozik and others box in the police car and drop below the speed limit, thus allowing Clay et al. to speed away. There is some flashy stunt driving, and then the really pissed deputies flag everyone down and cuff 'em.
Back in Charming, Roosevelt is signing what looks to be the last of a stack of documents and grumbling, "A lot of confidentiality." "Peace of mind. That way, you say anything about what you see, I strip your badge and throw you in jail," Potter shrugs. Roosevelt gives him a long, level, do-not-f***-with-me look and Potter adds unnecessarily, "I have some trust issues." Then he keys a security code into the door, the men walk down a hall, Potter keys a second security code ... and they enter a war room dedicated to SAMCRO. There are huge picture charts detailing the club, the club's family and associates (Wendy is there, even though she's been MIA for seasons now), the Real IRA, the Russians/Putlova crew ... it's staggering. Intriguingly, at the bottom of the SAMCRO chart is a label reading "Plan B," and both Otto and Juice's mug shots are there.
Potter lays out his case: He's going to use RICO to take down SAMCRO now that they've vaulted into the big leagues of gun dealership. He is, at the moment, working with the CIA, the FBI and ATF on this venture. Roosevelt is understandably curious as to where he fits into all this. Potter's getting to that, but first he disgorges some exposition: Because the Russians were not thrilled about SAMCRO ripping them off at the end of last season, they shivved Jax in prison. To make peace, Clay brokered a deal in which the Russians got a big percentage of the gun sales so long as SAMCRO was on the inside. Now that SAMCRO's out, things will be changing. The government hopes to find out via FBI Agent Ronald Wursky, who's been undercover for over a year now and is in line to become Putlova's number two man.
Potter outlines how he thinks this is going to go down: "Once our agent is inside the circle, he'll be able to Putlova on tape buying and selling arms. And in one broad stroke, we will take down the R.O.C., and by association, the Real IRA and the Sons of Anarchy." Since this is only the season premiere, I leave it to you to discern this plan's chances of success.
Roosevelt finally realizes why he's in the room: all of this is going down in San Joaquin County. "Yes, most likely, all of this is happening in your back yard," Potter says diffidently. However, that's not the only reason Roosevelt's now dealing with this legal oddball: Because Roosevelt has ten years of street experience in dealing with the gangs in Northern California, and that is something the room full of conspicuously Caucasian dudes in suits lacks. Roosevelt looks at the two walls bearing the faces of those who create, profit by or abet mayhem and says grimly, "Count me in."
We transition from a photo of Wursky to the man standing against a wall at the Jellybean, no doubt trying not to catch hoof-and-mouth disease. The world's least enthusiastic stripper lists against a pole. How unenthusiastic is she? Hint: She is still fully clothed. Anyway, Putlova greets Clay, Jax and Opie, and after some insincere small talk in re: Jax's recovery from his shivving, Clay gets to the point: "You've been taking 80 percent of the Irish stock for your customers up north." Putlova points out that by handling all transport and storage, the Russians have been assuming approximately 80% of the business risk. Clay says, "Well, now it's time for that equal share scenario to kick in." Putlova says jollily, "Yes, as we discussed, you'll get 50 percent of the hardware. But if we continue to transport and store the guns, we need to be compensated." Clay informs Putlova that so far as SAMCRO is concerned, the terms of the deal are going to be rewritten, and that's it. Then it's vodka shots for everyone! How fortunate for everyone involved that because of the local PD up on SAMCRO's tail, there's no chance to sample the new merchandise now. Jax and Opie invite Putlova and his crew to Opie's party, telling him it's a good cover for "checking out the operation." Then everyone toasts to a long and profitable relationship. Hands up, all of you who think this deal with either long or profitable.
Gemma has driven to the middle of nowhere, forest edition, where an Airstream trailer is parked in a sandy clearing. It's surrounded by all sorts of domestic detritus that suggests the occupant knows he or she is supposed to make a home here, but doesn't have the will or energy. Gemma gets out, pounds on the screen door (which is about to fall off the hinges), and we see the erstwhile Sheriff Unser. He looks about as good as his surroundings. He berates Gemma for knocking so loud, and she says, "I thought you might have up and died on me." "If I did, knocking louder ain't gonna help," he snaps. "I've been known to wake the dead," Gemma says. Then she pushes her way in with a "Jesus, Wayne! You told me you were going to hire somebody to help you out." Unser blusters some, and one look around the trailer -- framed commendations, a fishing trophy on the wall, stacks of detritus everywhere -- suggests he's in a bad way. That Unser's hair is a mess and he's in a stained, holey t-shirt and completely unaware of what day it is only underlines that point. He's gone to pieces since losing his job. He may also be incredibly stoned. Gemma asks how Unser's new meds are, and he says he quit taking them. "Wayne --" Gemma beseeches, and Unser says, "I can't afford them, the coverage is shit, so ... all they do is make me puke and sleep." So I'm wondering if he lost his benefits when the San Joaquin sheriff's department took over, or if Charming PD lacks the kind of effective union that guarantees sterling medical coverage and pensions for retired public servants. Eh, it's all academic. The point here is that Unser's a cold mess -- divorced, dying, despairing. Gemma hands over a giant baggie of pot and says, "I noticed your plants weren't doing so well out there." Unser breaks into sobs and says, "Everything is just kind of dying on me." He cries on Gemma's shoulder as she kisses the top of his head.
Cut to the SAMCRO boys who are not Clay, Opie and Jax, all of whom are cuffed and resting against posts on the side of the road as the police car radios into the station. None of them seem especially concerned about logging a parole violation three hours after release. Tig is more concerned with matters of etiquette: "Bobby? You getting anything for Opie?" "I'm just getting them cash," Bobby Elvis says, either forgetting or dismissing any claims that Precious and his wheezy children might have for support. Happy asks Chibs, "How much you giving him?" "A lot more than you, you cheap-ass bastard," Chibs unhelpfully replies. Happy replies indignantly, "I'm not cheap! Just mindful of excessive spending." Squiggy replies, "Dude, you re-use condoms!" and I hope for everyone's sake that he's engaging in hyperbole. Bobby asks Juice what he's getting Opie, and Juice cheerfully says he's giving both Opie and Lyla ten sessions at "Clear Passages." Cut to every biker looking horrified. Juice further explains that he's part-owner of the herbal, colonic and weed shop in question. Tig opines, "That is so disturbing." "Have you ever seen the contents of a lower colon?" Juice asks. Honestly, given their seasoned felon statuses, I'd be more surprised if anyone there had not.
We then switch to Roosevelt screaming in fury at the cop on the other end of the police radio. He points out to his poor, unimaginative underling, "These guys are smart: they'll claim that you tried to kill them, that they were fleeing out of fear. Then they'll sue for assault. Just cut them loose, and the time you try to play [Grand Theft Auto] on my watch, I'ma bounce you back to park duty!" He ends by throwing the radio on his desk; the poor police officer on the other end is left to liberate SAMCRO.
Potter is enjoying a smoke break -- and what appears to be his own private poetry slam -- when one of the white guys in suits comes by to tell him that Warsky's just checked in with news about SAMCRO and the Russians checking out the merch at a warehouse this evening. Potter admires Clay's efficiency and motivation. The suit wants to put a team nearby and wire up Warsky, but Potter says, "No, let's not risk it. It sounds like tonight's a show-and-tell, and tomorrow, we'll get friendly. One big, happy family."
Speaking of big, happy families: Jax has just entered his house -- which has been thoroughly colonized by such domestic items as paintings on the wall and bouncers in the living room -- and he's greeted by Tara coming out of one of the bedrooms. She grins and tells him, "The boys are napping," and walks over to him, then gently touches the zipper on his hoodie. Jax is done with subtlety: he throws Tara over his shoulder and races to the bedroom, where the two of them engage in a giddy, semi-naked reunion. They fall to the bed and we fade into ...
Gemma's bird, and Clay rolling off Gemma. Good lord, these guys get more done in an afternoon that most people do all day. Clay comments, "That was fast." Gemma replies, "Yeah, that's 'cause you're used to speed-banging Juice in dark hallways." "Don't turn what Juice and I had into something cheap and tawdry!" Clay cracks, and Gemma begins laughing. "I'm sure it was sweet Puerto Rican magic," she gets out, before chuckling again. The great thing about this scene is that it conveys how much Clay and Gemma thrive on simply talking to one another. Clay is still breathless, but that might be from the arthritis pain. Gemma tells him, "No more time, baby. I don't think I can handle it." Clay assures her that he plans on using the Russian deal as his retirement: between the finder's fee and the percentage he's asking, he expects to bank seven figures before he bows out. Time's not on his side: Clay's arthritis got worse while he was in prison, and "I don't know how many winters I got left. One, two at the most," he says. Gemma sits up and says matter-of-factly, "There's plenty we can do. I've got Tara looking into a good surgeon --" "I ain't letting nobody cut me open. I'd have to step down to recuperate. It don't make any sense," Clay says. Gemma gropes for reassuring words, but neither she nor Clay are buying what she's selling. So she changes the subject to a topic even more depressing that Clay's looming mortality: Unser's looming mortality. She tells Clay, "You got to go out there. He needs you. He needs this club. What he did for us ... Stahl ..." Clay's on it.
We switch back to Jax and Tara, who are also engaging in post-coital chit-chat. Tara wants to talk about "some things," and Jax says through his hazy afterglow, "Yeah, we should talk about all the chick shit you decked my house in." Tara points out that Maxim posters and Harley mirrors aren't really her thing, and segues into her real point: "I want to talk about the boys. About what we're going to do." Displaying impeccable timing, Thomas begins crying, and Jax says, "Sounds like someone else wants a shot at those puppies." Tara takes the time to smack him, they both crack up, and Jax goes to get the baby.
Opie and Lyla's place, and thenzzzzzzzz... Sorry. As much as I like Opie as a character, this whole tortured relationship thing between the two of them just bores me. The only relevant thing in this scene is that Opie's raring to start having kids, and Lyla looks all shifty and regretful the very minute he says that because, as we all know, she's already aborted one pregnancy resulting from sex with the Opester.
Jax heads into Thomas's nursery with a bottle and I apologize in advance for how parenthood has bitten into my recapping chops because my first thoughts are: A bottle? So does this mean she's pumping exclusively? and Quilted crib bumpers? How has this doctor not heard of the American Academy of Pediatricians and their recommendations on crib bedding? So it takes me a bit to notice that Jax is pulling out the brown paper bag Gemma gave to him earlier. Then Jax brings Thomas in to Tara, and we see that Thomas has a ring clenched in one chubby fist. Jax hands over the baby, Tara fusses with laying him down, and Jax watches intently until ... "Oh my God!" Tara notices. As she feeds Thomas with one hand, she holds the ring in the other and says tentatively, "It's beautiful. Are you --?" Jax nods and whispers, "Yeah," and the look on his face is a mixture of elation and nervousness. It's wonderful acting from Charlie Hunnam, it really is. Jax elaborates, "We should get married ... I love you, Tara. I've loved you since I was sixteen. You stayed when anyone else would have bailed. You've given me a beautiful son, taken Abel on as your own."
Tara lets him put on the ring, then kind of falls apart: "I love you too, so much, and I want all of that ... [but] I know this is who you are, Jax, and I would never try to change that. The club, Charming ... I've learned so many things while you were away, and I look at Thomas and Abel, and I think, How does this work? How --?"
"How do they grow up in this?" Jax finishes for her. But he's not defensive about Tara's line of thinking, or agitated from internal conflict as he would have been in the past. That's because Jax has a plan: "I realize you being with me is not some kind of accident. It sounds crazy, but I think you were put into my life to get me out [of the club], Tara. Fifteen years ago and now. I'm done with SAMCRO." And I'm totally distracted by the inert doll someone's plopped in Tara's lap. Seriously: It's like Jax is pitching sweet woo to a woman and her baby doll. Anyway, the point here is that Jax has seen his future in SAMCRO, and it finishes with him either in prison or dead; not only does neither option appeal to him, he wants better for his sons. He says, "The bond that holds this club together isn't about love or brotherhood anymore. We lost that a long time ago. It's just fear and greed now." Tara points out that Jax is echoing John Teller's words, and like Jax, JT wanted to get out. Jax concludes, "JT was a coward. He lost himself in Irish pussy and bailed on his family. Instead of writing about it, he should have done something. He should have taken me and Thomas and gotten the hell out of Charming." Tara reminds him that JT would have had to go through Gemma, and Jax says, "Then he should have run her over. I'm not my father. I'm not weak." Tara is unconvinced: "How do you get out? Clay and Gemma will never let you just leave."
Jax thinks he knows how, and his retirement plan looks very similar to Clay's: Ride out this new guns deal with the Irish Kings, get a big enough payday, then ... who knows? Tara asks how long Jax plans to ride this out, adding, "More guns means more risk." Jax throws his hands up and says, "I don't have any skills, Tara. I'm an OK mechanic with a GED. The only thing I ever did well was outlaw. I just need to make some bank, set myself up with something --" This is where Tara cuts in and reminds Jax that as a hotshot surgeon, she is raking in the bucks. (And is presumably unencumbered by student loans? Lucky MD.) Jax objects with, "I'm not going to live off my wife," and while this would have been an excellent opening for pointing out that running a household and raising two small boys is not a job for the fainthearted -- and indeed, would probably speak to Jax's skill set -- Tara figures that one major Jax Teller attitude adjustment per scene is enough, and if he's talking about leaving the club, she'll call it a win and return to the "Stay at Home Dad: It's A Great Way To Support Your Family, Really" argument at a later date.
Jax says, "Clay's hands are going. His days are numbered. When he steps down, he loses sway. That's when I get out. And Gemma ... she's just an old lady. You've got to trust me. This is all I've been thinking about for the last fourteen months. I'm going to finish up with SAMCRO, and we're going to take our boys, and we're going to get the hell out of here. Start fresh somewhere, be a real family." So here's the thing that intrigues me: Jax's pitch to Tara is eerily reminiscent of the pitch he made to Stahl. The idea of Jax Teller breaking free of SAMCRO clearly has some currency with people -- is Jax aware of that and using it to his advantage? Anyway, Jax figures the pitch works on Tara and moves to kiss her. We see that Tara's still looking skeptical about the whole idea.
Since Clay and Gemma don't have it in them to do a whole lot of agonizing over their futures, Clay's already bounced out of bed and headed out to see Unser at his dilapidated Airstream. We get the full-body shot of Unser when he greets Clay, and if the holey t-shirt was bad news before, the baggy, frayed pajama pants and sprung slippers are even worse. The two men hug, and then Unser offers Clay a beer; the other man declines and they sit outside. We get a shot of Unser's truck from his hauling business, and Unser explains that he sold a controlling interest in the business -- "I get a check every month. Enough to keep me in the lifestyle I'm ... accustomed to." For Clay, who has suddenly developed a close personal interest in how people finance their retirements, this is not bad news. Unser says drily, "I assume you're caught up on the growth and prosperity of our little burg." Clay says that he did, then met the new sheriff on his way in, and my, it seems to stick in Clay's craw that here in the 21st century, people who are not of Anglo-Saxon descent are in positions of authority and power. "Town's upside down, Wayne," Clay says. Unser concurs: "I'm not sure which cancer's worse. The one in me, or the one in Charming?" Clay launches the Unser rehab project with "You rotting away here isn't helping either one." Unser protests that it doesn't hurt as much if he's unplugged, and Clay lays on the tough love: "You're going to have to plug yourself back in because I need you. I ain't going to let Hale win. There ain't gonna be no Charming Heights." Unser's intrigued. And he's now on board. He'll be lending Clay a catering truck this evening. "What's it for?" Unser asks. "Wedding shit," Clay replies. You know, if the town does go upscale, Clay and the boys can always reinvent themselves as lo-fi wedding planners. They have a certain approach to the event that's refreshingly free of drama.
Back in the prison, Big Otto's in the infirmary, strapped down to a cot. The guards roll in a Russian con right to Big Otto; the guy is ranting and raving, and clearly not in his right mind. He'll have meds soon. The guard then hands Big Otto a scalpel. I can't imagine the guard's telling Big Otto to finish what he started. Then again, given how much blood Big Otto lost, I can't imagine he's lucid, yet here he is, cracking wise with the screw in question.
Perhaps it's to take his mind off the social event of the season, which is setting up at the Wahewa reservation. The Mayans get to come, as does the Putlova crew. We cut to Chuckie, just happy to be included. Know who's missing in the crowd? Ima. Jax and Tara are standing up for the couple, and SAMCRO's main contact on the rez is going to be officiating (he is wearing a leather suit that has to be seen to be believed). And outside the reservation, the poor dumb officer who got pwned by SAMCRO is telling Roosevelt, "It's a Who's Who of bad guys -- Niners, Mayans, Russians ..." "Love is in the air," Roosevelt wryly replies. The catering rental truck Clay arranged for a few scenes back rolls by, presumably packed with wedding shit, and Roosevelt watches it go in. He tells his hapless second-in-command to make sure the party doesn't leave the reservation.
And now, a wedding, SAMCRO style. Lyla is wearing a mullet dress -- miniskirt in the front, ridiculous lacy train in the back (carried by Opie's daughter, which is a sweet gesture) -- and because the dress is so short, her garter's out in full view of everyone. Piney's gallantly walking her down the aisle. Somewhere, a lute is plucking out Wagner's wedding march, and now I'm trying to imagine the circumstances under which a lutist would be drawn to hang with a motorcycle club. Perhaps they're really the outlaws of the stringed instrument world and they get their kicks doing drive-by hassling of violinists? Or perhaps they're all, "Look, I'm a musician and I need the money. It. Is. A. Gig." Anyhoodle, as Lyla makes her way to the altar, Clay squeezes Gemma and gives her a kiss, and Chibs looks like he's about to mist up. Opie looks surprisingly grim for a groom. (Then again, over the course of this entire show, Opie's capacity for happiness seems to have been slowly ground away. He is now a volatile mix of repressed anger, misdirected aggression and resignation, coated in a wry humor shell.) Lyla's gotten herself a set of white satin stripper heels for the occasion, and I've got to give it to the girl: She commits to a look and makes it work. As Opie and Lyla take one another's hands, Jax winks at Tara, and she grins back at him. Then the officiant launches into the alleged Apache wedding blessing, which was, in fact, written by novelist Elliott Arnold in the 1950 novel Blood Brother and has no historic or cultural association with any Native American group whatsoever. But the head of the Wahewa is no fool and he knows this kind of faux-spiritual hoo-hah is what's expected. Jax cannot take his eyes off Tara during the ceremony, which very sweet. We go to the audience. Unser's wincing slightly, but Juice seems enthralled by the whole thing. Stop for a moment and let your imagination conjure up what the Bride of Juice is going to be like.
Opie turns to Jax and asks, "You got -- you got the rings?" "What?" asks Jax, all wide-eyed, before grinning, and he and Opie crack up. Awww! Then Opie turns to Lyla and she vows to be "a faithful and loving wife and old lady." Opie tenderly promises, "With this ring, I vow my love. I promise always to cherish [pause] and protect you." (Hands up, everyone who suspects Donna was on his mind right here.) Jax prods quietly, "What else?" Opie rolls his eyes, then recites, "And treat you as good as my leather, and ride you as much as my Harley." Everyone in SAMCRO chants this last part along with him. It's quaint. Anyway, Opie and Lyla are now hitched, and the revels commence.
No expense was spared for the reception -- live band, lots of rented tables and catering, party lights strung up and a dance floor put down. Even Unser's having a good time. Jax has slipped away, and he's wrapping up some business with Bobby Elvis, Chibs and Juice. They're in the back of the erstwhile "wedding shit" truck, and Jax tells them, "If you get even a hint of a tail, abort." Chibs assents, and Juice says, "Drink heavily for us." Happy drives the truck away.
Back at the reception, Lyla's sort of dancing by herself on the floor (and showing more life than that stripper at the Jellybean, I may add), and Clay's conferring with Alvarez at a table. In his own inimitable fashion, Clay thanks Alvarez for putting in a good word with his hombres on the inside and thus keeping SAMCRO alive while they did their time. Alvarez smiles and says he's only protecting his interests. Then he adds, "Talked to our man yesterday. How's it look for tomorrow?" Clay gives him the heads-up on the new sheriff, then adds that they'll all be safe "once we're inside." Alvarez is skeptical, but then his lady -- clad in a fetching leather minidress -- comes over and implores him to dance, so off he goes to keep the domestic peace. Clay blows his cigar smoke into the stargazer lilies on each table. With every subsequent detail I notice at this shindig, I become more and more convinced that indeed, SAMCRO should consider the wedding planning racket. There's enough shakedowns in that business to keep them all in clover through retirement, and just about the same level of murderous mayhem -- and it's all nice and legal.
Also, I should add, this wingding is totally in keeping with my family's experience with biker celebrations. I have a cousin who married into a biker family, so the whole MC came to the wedding and reception (it was one of those in-a-friend's-backyard deals) and people are still talking about that party 23 years later. I believe they're still talking about how my sweet Irish Catholic grandmother approached one man who was a walking explosion of hair wrapped in leather and inscribed with all manner of impolite tattoos, then sweetly asked him, "May I see your pig, please?" "Hog, ma'am," was all he said before showing her his ride.
Anyway. Gemma's dancing with Unser and patting his back maternally, and Clay grins at her. We then go to Putlova, who's handing over a truly frightening firearm to Opie. The groom deadpans, "Best wedding gift ev-errrrr," and Tig snickers, "Wait 'til you see Juice's gift -- you're going to want to use that on yourself."
Clay comes over, ands Jax hands him the firearm with the comment "Hand cannon." Clay grins, "Oh, I'm going to want to play with this," and Putlova says expansively, "It's your party." The band's just struck up a very pretty song at the bride's request, and Lyla calls out for Opie to join her. The SAMCRO boys razz him for the unmanly act of being nice to his wife on their wedding day, and Opie heads off to dance with Lyla.
The song in question is a cover of "What a Wonderful World." As the lyrics wax rhapsodic about the simple phenomena of nature, the SAMCRO boys head into the woods with Putlova to go shoot up some of those wonders. Then we transition to the warehouse where Chibs, Juice, Bobby Elvis and Happy are. They're saying hello to Wursky and a few genuine Russians, then checking out some of the enormous guns the Russians have stored.
We transition to Big Otto, whose restraints were miraculously loosened, and he stumbles off his gurney and over to the Russian to him. "This is for Jax Teller," he says as he plunges the scalpel in the Russian's ear. Meanwhile, the singer is carrying on about skies of blue and clouds of white.
"The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky/ are also on the faces of people going by," the song continues, as Bobby Elvis's crew picks up the firearms and wipes out Warsky and his Russian comrades. (Ooh, Potter's going to regret not having a team out there.) Once they're done, the crew loads the guns. We then transition to the woods, where the SAMCRO boys are doing the same thing to the Russians. The sole exception: Jax, who shivs Putlova. "Just business," he says contemptuously.
We've faded out from SAMCRO Borrows the End of The Godfather for its Welcome Back sequence, and now we see Gemma bustling in to check on Abel. (Presumably, she's spelling the babysitter and sitting up with the kids until Jax and Tara get home.) While she's tidying up the coloring books spread over Abel's bed -- and again, parenting has warped my brain because my first thought was, "Abel's only two and he's already in a bed without rails? That's not pushed up against the wall? Wow." -- Gemma notices the other piece of paper Abel colored on, i.e. Maureen's cover note to Jax. We focus on her face as she realizes that Tara and/or Jax have read John Teller's letters.
And now, we see SAMCRO dumping the Russians' bodies in the Charming Heights land, then we go back to the wedding. The older SAMCRO guys are smoking stogies and looking contented, while the younger ones (Opie, Jax) are dancing with their respective women. Tara murmurs, "This is nice," and Jax concurs: "It's good to be home." What a wonderful world indeed.
When she's not writing about business and technology, Lisa Schmeiser can be heard getting her geek on with the Comic Book Club over at The Incomparable.
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