In the beginning, there were wolves. Two packs of them, dueling for supremacy, a lupine Montague v. Capulet conflict with Lou Diamond Phillips caught in the middle. And as a result, in the beginning, there was a stench. This stench stank the stench of a thousand stinks rolled in manure and left to rot in a reeking sewer. So the benevolent honchos at CBS woke up one day, grew tired of wearing noseplugs, and shelved Wolf Lake until such time as they could hire a writer who would make the show a lot more like The X-Files. That writer is Alex Gansa. From The X-Files. And so one piece of derivative television begat another, even more derivative piece of television. This is going to be so, so excellent.
Right away, we're warned that this program contains partial nudity. This is the part where we pray that Lou Diamond Phillips's clothes have been permanently affixed to his body, lest our stomachs turn and retinas burn; then comes the part where we remember this is the medium that unleashed Dennis Franz's ass upon an unwitting nation. And then we weep for what was, and what will probably be.
"Wolf Lake," the screen says. My mother, having watched with me once already, slaps her knee and says, "They should call it Woof Lake, because it's such a dog." She is grinning. She covets my job. Hey, Mom, thou shalt not covet thy daughter's recapping gig, else thou shalt be smote from on high with circus peanuts and then forced to watch Full House reruns for all eternity. Remember that. It's in The Book.
Seattle, Washington. A dinky motorcycle zooms up in front of an apartment building and screeches to a halt. Lou Diamond Phillips takes off his helmet and dismounts. Dear God, they didn't recast. My first disappointment. From above, we see through the eyes of someone peeking through the bars of a balcony, staring down at Lou. There's panting. It's clear something is lurking in Lou's apartment. Lou walks into the dark living room, drops his keys on the dark table, heads to the dark hallway, and turns into the dark bedroom. Am I recapping a children's book?
Lou undoes his cuffs. Shirts are so itchy, see, and he's far too heroic to remain clothed during a dire time of discomfort like that. With unparalleled bravery, Lou frees himself from the shackles of his shirt. And with unparalleled bravery, I do not push pause or change the channel. In doing so, I notice Lou's buffed himself up, his chest glowing with the sheen of freshly waxed skin. Drink it in, ladies: it's all free and only mildly toxic. Panting reaches a crescendo as whatever was ogling Lou now pounces out of his closet doors and knocks him backward onto the bed. He wrestles with it briefly until he recognizes his assailant: it's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Girlfriend. She's got pale skin, red lips, and dark brown hair, and she's very pretty -- the kind of girl only a contract could put atop Phillips's pelvis. Straddling his lap, she eyes him seductively. "You're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, you know that?" he grins at her, practically drooling. "I hope so," she murmurs, ripping off her shirt to reveal a tight black camisole. Lou stammers that he thought she had a late class. "I wanted to surprise you," she heaves, throwing him down on the bed and slobbering all over his neck and chest. And, like all men whose crotches are being ridden by a hot young thing half their age, Lou can think of one thing, and one thing only: pushing her aside and going to take a shower before snarfing some pizza. The snort I let fly right here was so thunderous that my father popped his head into the study, concerned I was being savaged by a wild boar. For her part, the vixen clenches her thighs and leans in for the kill. "Oh, I like you dirty," she climaxes, gyrating atop his lap as she peels off the camisole and kisses him while he rubs her naked back.
Well, good. Lest we think they'd renege on the promise of nudity, CBS treats us to a three-minute soft-core porn. Starring Lou Diamond Phillips and his wandering hands. I think I'm going to cry. Did I fall asleep and miss some kind of national love affair with Lou, or is this as startling as it seems?
Vixen flops onto the bed, fully dressed and ready to pick up some dinner. Lou is brushing his teeth. Refusing to "eat soup from a cup" one more night, Vixen promises to pick up Chinese or pizza -- his choice. Lou's answer: "Move in with me." She is totally stunned and can't believe her ears, not giving an answer. Laughingly, Lou asks whether she's morally opposed to it. Vixen leaps atop his lap -- oh, no, not again, please. "I'm morally opposed to making important life decisions after great sex," she grins, although technically that shouldn't preclude her from making one now. And because his first suggestion went over so well, Lou ups the ante and gracefully blurts, "Marry me and have my children." She wonders aloud whether he's serious. "Only if you say yes," he says. She does. He's taken aback by her certainty and then decides that there's a diamond ring missing from the picture. Stupid banter about the size of the rock, then they agree to pretend this conversation never happened -- until he is able to acquire the perfect engagement ring. Vixen leans back a bit and peers at him oddly. Then she smiles slightly. "I love you, John Kanin," she announces dramatically. I believe we've located our first batch of wolf chow.
Vixen rolls off the bed and sashays out of the apartment. Lou reclines on the bed, arms crossed behind his head and beaming ear-to-ear. He giggles, pleased he bribed the writers and eager to grab a hooker the second they yell "cut." Meanwhile, in the hallway, Vixen leans sadly against the door frame and looks nauseous, silently swearing off sausage forever and praying that her agent contracts a nasty penile rash.
A car is parked on a darkened street. It's Lou's street, and it's Vixen's car; she crosses the street and hops into the driver's seat. For a split second she pauses, thinking her peripheral vision played a trick on her -- and then the man attacks from the back seat, trying to strangle her with thick wire. She struggles, and we see the rear window shatter. Inside, Lou hears something suspicious and bolts to the balcony. Vixen's car is a-rockin', and in blatant violation of our unwritten national code of ethics, Lou decides to go a-knockin'. We see Vixen's eyes turn a supernatural shade of orange, just as a palm smacks the inside of the car and drags limply along the window, a Titanic-inspired shot that should only ever be used in parody. I think that's actually law.
Lou runs to the car and smashes the window glass, unlocking the door so that he can investigate. There's nothing in the car except the severed hand of the attacker, still clutching the piece of wire. Lou peers at it for a second, as though if he stands very still and waits a second longer, he might just find out what exactly is the sound of one hand clapping. But the thing is well and truly severed. Lou screams, "Ruby!" She isn't there. Dejected, he picks up the hand and cradles it. "It's just you and me now, severed hand," Lou weeps, using the cold dead fingers to wipe away his tears. Unable to cope, Lou hops onto his motorcycle, uses the hand to wave goodbye and flees in search of a better life -- as a handyman, perhaps, or a stagehand; a palm-reader, or digital-equipment maker. Basically, he's got the whole world in his hand.
Some advertisers want to sell things to people who like wolves and hands. I can't remember who they are; jewelers, probably, and Burger King.
In a police station, two cops examine photos of the Severed Hand. Puffed up, red, and with two chunky white bones where the wrist would be, the damn thing looks like a lamb shank. Probably, it'll turn up three months from now in a Big Mac bought by some woman and her ten-year-old in South Dakota. Detective Duh states that Severed Hand belongs to a white male in his early thirties, more or less; his pal, Sheriff Skeptic, wonders how in the wide world of sharp objects this hand got detached from its owner. Duh says it was a plastic or synthetic weapon, evidenced by the lack of residue or metal filings along the wrist line. "How's your partner?" Skeptic says, gesturing toward an office. "How do you think?" Duh duhs, and we see that the partner in question is a bereaved Lou, looking pensive in his thick blue plaid flannel. With its wide collar and rollable sleeves, touchable fabric but durable weave, it's the type of garment that says, "Yes. Yes, I did play the King of Siam."
The two officers approach Lou and admit there's nothing to report. Skeptic rehashes what we know -- she left to get Chinese food and took her own car; then Lou heard screaming and went to check out the shaking vehicle. "She wasn't into anything that you know of?" Skeptic asks. "How long have you known her?" Lou looks defensive. "Eight or nine months. What's that got to do with anything?" he snaps. His partner, Duh, informs him that there's no record of a Ruby Wilder in any national databases. She had no social security number and no driver's license, she isn't known locally at all, and Shoreline Community College denies any record of a Ruby Wilder in its register. Lou can't believe what he's hearing. "She's learning dance!" he protests. "I pick her up there every Tuesday and Friday." He decides not to mention the Lunchables and Danimals Yogurt that he sneaks into her backpack for recess, because there's no way that's connected to her disappearance. Unless...
As Lou weighs what he's just heard, his partner decides to sum it all up neatly. "Either this is a mistake...or your girlfriend's a ghost!" Duh proclaims. Lou sets his jaw in "I'm gonna get to the bottom of this" mode.
Mozart's lesser-known opera, A Severed Hand Severed My Heart, plays in the background as Lou stares morosely at his bed, the sheets still rumpled from dirty May-to-December sex. The dramatic singing crescendos as we see something silver glinting amid the pile. Lou grabs it and holds it up to the camera lens -- it's an earring with a strange symbol on it that resembles an "R."
Six months later, the investigation hasn't progressed much. We see Lou's home office is decorated with news articles pertaining to the missing Ruby, a giant map of the area with flags denoting dead-end leads, and a photo wall of the Severed Hand in various hilarious locations! Like with a cigarette and a beer, and the time it rode Space Mountain at Disney World; when it dressed up as Thing from The Addams Family for Halloween; and of course that one really crazy night in Tijuana, when it did twelve shots of tequila and rode home in the pocket of a native girl with a penchant for handball and giving high-fifteens. Lou's partner, Detective Duh, calls and begs Lou to pick up the phone because he hates his new partner and the boss is getting annoyed. Lou stares emotionlessly at the wall, traces of stubble on his chin and with a general appearance of unshowered grief. Opera music swells. It's so, so bad. And I just noticed one of the producers is named Roger Director -- that could get confusing. Anyway, the phone rings again and a frustrated Lou picks up and barks, "I told you, Frank, I can't!" But it's not Frank. It's never Frank, especially when you think it's got to be Frank.
A gruff voice identifies itself as belonging to Earl Butry, who claims he saw a poster of Ruby Wilder on Highway 5. He thinks he gave her a ride. That's one thing Earl and Lou have in common, then. We don't see Earl, but we see a hand -- not severed -- flipping a quarter through its fingers, and the phone has a 206 area code. Lou's interest is piqued further when Earl describes Ruby and emphasizes her lovely clear skin. Sitting upright, Lou tensely asks where he was when he picked up Ruby. "East on 77, way the hell up in the Cascades," Earl says. "Dropped her off at the Wolf Lake exit." Lou finds Wolf Lake on the map, points to it for good measure, then puts his hand on the doorway and leans against it. He's in decisive mode, and that can only mean one thing: lunchtime.
Rockin' music covers Lou's jaunty strut toward his motorcycle. He's covered in leather and sporting some bad-ass shades, but there's something wrong with this look. Three things, actually. He's (a) not The Terminator, (b) not Lorenzo Lamas, and (c) not thirty. But it's a game attempt at sex appeal. Swinging a brown satchel over his back, Lou hops on the bike, removes the kickstand, and speeds off into the night to ride like the wind. Radiohead, I believe, is the soundtrack of Lou's journey, because that's what all the kids are listenin' to these days. We see a full moon; I'm going to count the moon shots we get during the series. The orb fades into the round, bright headlight on Lou's motorcycle, as he pushes forward on his tortured ride. Ruby's face floats across the screen, saying things like "I love you" and "you forgot to pack Ex-Lax." Lou has a vivid memory of her wild side, recalling one night they sped down an empty road in a convertible and he had to lean over and steer while she stood up, waved her hands, and tore off her own shirt. She sure loves to strip, that girl. What a sweetie-pie.
Lou motors past a sign marking the Wolf Lake county line, and there's a bold "No Hunting" sign right underneath. Suddenly, a brunette bolts into the street and he almost hits her. Passions fans may recognize the actress, Mary Elizabeth Winstead. She's got long brown hair and wire-framed spectacles, and looks miraculously unflustered by her near-fatal accident. He tells her to be more careful, and that he's a cop. "You don't look like one," she scoffs, but kind of politely. Lou flips his badge open very professionally. I get the sense he was longing to do that. Nervously, Specs darts a glance at the woods from which she just emerged running, and Lou puts two and two together and decides she isn't interested in grabbing a quick nightcap. Instead, he asks what she's running from, and she sadly replies, "You are a cop." Specs hurriedly hops onto his bike and shouts, "What are you waiting for? If my dad finds out I'm gone, he's gonna go totally berserko on me." Be-what? I'd like to see that. While she floors Lou with her smooth lingual stylings, we see them through the eyes of whatever's watching from the woods. It has heat-seeking vision, wherein mammals appear as patches of dark red and everything else warm-blooded and yummy appears in degrees of red as well. The shots flip back and forth, and as Lou's bike takes off down the road, the creature follows it, making animal panting noises. I don't know why I'm pretending we don't know it's a wolf; of course it's a damn wolf. This is a show about wolves, and the people who love them. Just like a Maury episode. Specs senses the wolf following them, and turns to face it; the wolf stops running and lets her go.
"Welcome to Wolf Lake," a sign reads. Lou buzzes right past it; the animal snorting noises continue briefly until we cut to the forest, where a cute blond boy with orange glowing eyes is staring after the bike and panting. His chest is bare. Whoo, mama, I could get used to this shapeshifting thing. For the curious, this actor -- Paul Wasilewski -- was most recently seen on Guiding Light.
Lou drops Specs off at a giant statue of a wolf. She thanks him, then asks whether he's from Seattle. Lou nods. "Do you know Tommy Rolfe?" she asks. "Tommy Rolfe, who shot five people in a Tacoma mall?" Lou queries, interested. "Six, including the state trooper, which was later," she corrects, matter-of-factly. "We play chess. Over the internet." Pause. "Do you think that's twisted?" Lou considers this. "Depends," he answers. "Is he any good?" Specs shrugs. "Eh, his endgame is weak," she says dismissively, and walks away. Lou looks at the wolf and starts to wonder whether this here hick 'burg is somehow connected with dangerous woodland creatures, like squirrels or something.
Ominous music guides Lou inside a deserted restaurant, where a fire glows brightly in the hearth and a fish hangs over the bar. Someone abandoned a pool game and didn't clear off the table. Despite the lights everywhere, the place has an eerie feel to it. Lou sits down at the adjacent diner and sheds his leather jacket. Suddenly, he hears a noise. Whipping around, he sees Graham Greene seated at a booth tapping an egg against the Formica table. "Egg," Graham says, pleasantly, then proceeds to do a silly magic trick. He laughs at himself for still being amused by parlor games. Lou wants a waitress, but Graham pointedly asks about the caliber of the weapon strapped to the newcomer's ankle. It's a 38mm, for anyone who cares. "Sherman Blackstone," Graham says, by way of introduction. "What brings you to our little paradise in the pines? It can't be official business -- not when you show up on a two-wheeler." Lou grins at the man's observant nature and compliments him on it. "That's funny, sometimes I think in a past life I must've been a scout for...oh, I dunno -- Custer or something," Sherman says. "Wait...that's wrong, we don't believe in past lives. That's a Buddhist thing. Who knows." Wow. Some Catholic writer is busting a gut over that one, while we're left scratching our heads and hoping Graham gets paid by the pointless line and not by the hour. Okay, basically, Lou wants food and is told that, after midnight, the diner runs on an honor system whereby you drop money in a jar in the fridge and go cook your own meals. "Watch out for Rusty," whispers Sherman. Lou tries to barge into the kitchen, but a man's shoe stops him; peering through the crack, Lou sees a passed-out chef on the ground. Amused, Lou turns to Sherman, but -- poof! -- he's gone, leaving behind an egg spinning ceaselessly on the diner table.
Lou checks in at a local motel. A woman working behind the front desk sasses, "Hope you don't mind making your own bed. You could always wait for the maid...'course we'd have to hire one first." She cackles. She is wacky! She didn't get cast in Twin Peaks and has spent the ensuing years finely honing this unique and fascinating crackpot character. And she is still laughing, long after we stopped. Although we never started.
Howling. Lots of it. Lou stops in his tracks and looks intrigued -- maybe a bit startled -- vowing to investigate whether this strange Wolf Lake place has a thriving coyote population or something. He slams the door on his bungalow and sets up the laptop, logging onto the Ruby Wilder website. There have been no hits; depressed, he closes the computer and sighs.
Lying in bed, Lou hears yet more howling and stirs, opting to peek out the window and pinpoint its source. He sees a woman standing outside, clad in tight black jeans, a flowing off-the-shoulder white wrap-shirt, and red lipstick. It's Ruby, and she's rubbing her crotch suggestively, as all polite people do. But because we're only halfway through the episode, Lou has to sit up in bed sweating so that we know it was just a dream. Curiously, he runs to the window for real, and sees a beautiful white wolf sitting exactly where his vision of Ruby stood. The Lupine Love Symphony in A Minor plays as the wolf makes eye contact with Lou and neither is able to look away.
A bare foot sits on a bed. It's connected to a woman who's trying to look sultry while she butchers the blues; she should probably close her mouth before...nope, dang it, the vase on my table just shattered. She sucks seductively on a cigarette. She's in a jail cell, and the town Sheriff pecks away blissfully on his keyboard. The Sheriff is Tim Matheson, last seen as the vice-president on The West Wing, and another in a long string of "Hey! It's That Guy!" actors in this cast. The singer, Brandi Heidrick, is another. They stop the caterwauling when Lou walks in; agitated, the cop tells his songbird she's a little flat, and goes to investigate. "Whaddaya expect? I'm singing elevator music," she grumbles. She is annoying and needs to leave.
Sheriff Donner introduces himself, and Lou does the same. A female cop named Molly explains that Lou is tracking a missing person and got a lead that she's in the Wolf Lake area. Donner feigns interest as he studies Ruby's picture, determining within ten seconds that "she's not from around here. I'd remember someone who looked like that." Lou presses him, suggesting that Ruby might be using a different name or sporting a spiffy new hairdo, or sleeping with someone twice her age. Donner too-pleasantly says he's positive he hasn't seen her, but is "willing to be proven wrong." Lou gets permission to tack up Missing Person posters all over town; Donner looks at it again and says, "Twenty-five years old. Breaks your heart." Okay, they didn't need to say how young she is. It just makes the May-to-December thing even more obvious and icky, like March-to-February or something. I'm all for defying age conventions, but shit, they just make kind of a nasty couple.
Donner suddenly gets a Really Big Idea. "Molly...you don't think this could be Dina Rose, do you?" Apparently, a brunette blew into town six months ago -- right when Ruby vanished -- and is working as a nanny for a Mrs. Lane and her triplets. Eagerly, Lou trots outside to find Mrs. Lane, leaving a visibly annoyed Donner.
A blonde woman sits in a lovely, colorful park bouncing three bald babies on her lap. She's Mrs. Lane. She praises Dina but says she was useless at housekeeping and preferred to watch the same Def Leppard Behind the Music over and over again. Dina also quit when she got a job offer from Vernon Dickey. Lou jots all this down, then smiles and compliments Mrs. Lane on her adept handling of triplets. She says it's nothing compared to the quintuplets another Wolf Lake resident just popped out. Lou cocks his head curiously, and turns to see a hot blonde in spandex pushing five strollers through the park. She's a skinny one. Bitch.
An old coot sees Lou approach his farm and immediately assumes he's lost. Lou confirms that this is indeed Vernon Dickey, and demands to see Dina Rose. Dickey is ticked, but Lou again whips out his badge and gets the information he needs. Dina, it seems, is out back hanging clothes out to dry. Here, we switch to a romanticized slow-motion, rock music playing again as Lou approaches her from behind, the clothes blow slowly in the wind, Lou's hair doesn't move, and Dina's hair swirls around her head. Lou breaks into a relieved grin. "Ruby?" he asks, eagerly grabbing her shoulder. Dina whirls around, and she's pretty much the opposite of Ruby -- that includes the swollen, pregnant belly. The last two scenes seem really pointless to me, given that nobody ever thought for one second that Lou would find Ruby alive during the pilot episode. All the false leads and false hopes do nothing but suck time.
Specs is working at the diner, clad in a yellow old-school uniform. She's totally the Shiri Appleby/Liz Parker of this show, with the important difference being that I don't want to slap Specs just yet. She's arguing with her father, Sheriff Donner, complaining that he picks terrible times to broach sensitive topics. "You were up at the lake last night, weren't you?" he barks. She snaps that he was too busy working all night to notice where she was. He isn't buying it, so she irritatedly admits that he's right and appears unimpressed with the threat of a grounding. "We all know what goes on out at the lake, and now, there's drugs," Donner whispers urgently. "You make one little mistake out there, and there's no turning back, that's your whole life blown. No college, no traveling the world, no career. Just this town and this life." Specs seems momentarily affected, and looks up toward the bar area, where a group of locals try to inject fun horseplay into their otherwise dead-end lives. Quietly she says she does get it, having heard it from him a billion times, but she's sixteen and feels she has a right to "question stuff." Donner angrily grabs her arm. "Not about this," he hisses. The townies stop what they're doing and stare at father and daughter, because family spats are way more interesting than their rousing game of loogie golf, or whatever such dead-end madness dead-end locals do. Donner insists his daughter's peers are testing her, watching her. She claims she's steeled herself against peer pressure, but he insists that she doesn't belong in that crowd. "Maybe I do," she says defiantly. "Trust me, you won't find what you think you're looking for," Donner says desperately. Specs considers this. "Mom found you," she says steadily, staring into his eyes before retreating into the kitchen.
Lou appears that instant, plopping his Ruby-less behind onto the stool to Donner's. "Got any more tips for me?" he asks, sarcastically. "Because that last tip was right on." Donner cheerfully says, "A dead end. It happens." Lou claims he's impressed with such a positive attitude, because as a cynical big-city cop, he can't shake his hatred of wasted time and his suspicion that Donner is lying to him. "Maybe we need to keep an eye on each other," Lou says grimly. "I've been on that since last night," Donner replies flippantly. Specs emerges from the kitchen, catches Lou's eye, and goes right back inside. Figuring he's about tapped his daily sarcasm quota, Lou gets up to leave, but notices a trio of dudes who look really fierce. We're back into slow motion now, as the pretty rebels prettily strut past Lou and prettily look uninterested in him. One very rough-looking chap is Scott Bairstow, looking totally hot and bad-to-the-bone and hee, I just said "bone," and I liked it. Lou shakes his head and leaves a sheaf of Ruby Wilder flyers with the restaurant hostess. As he answers a call on his mobile and learns the Wolf Lake tip came from a Wolf Lake pay phone, we see the hostess throw all of Lou's flyers into the trash.
Scott drives a big, shiny, four-door black pickup down a deserted highway. A wimpy guy named Fletch calls Scott "Ty," which is extremely helpful to me amid this annoying trend of leaving characters unnamed for as long as possible. Ty is pissed at Fletch. "What was the first thing I said when we got in the business?" he asks. Fletch looks confused. A guy in the back seat pushes his face up nice and close to Ty and stares at him in a manner which the actor assumes is evil, but which makes him look like a squinty brain-dead yokel with a mouth permanently hanging agape. Ty coolly scolds Fletch, "Never, ever deal X to kids on the hill. Keep it on your section of town. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. When we first met, I said to myself, 'There's a guy who gets it.' Now? I don't know." Poor Ty. Trying to deal drugs like a responsible businessman, but thwarted by lame-brained henchmen. Maybe I could kiss it better. Fletch complains that the neighborhood is crawling with kids on the weekends, making it impossible to tell which ones come from which part of town. He starts to cry from panic and wildly promises that it'll never happen again, which is code for, "Please don't kill me, you evil, sexy man-beast." Ty calmly ejects Fletch from the truck and tells him to take a nice, long walk home along the forest, using that time to "look deep within [himself]. Find a way to be better at [his] job." As Fletch strolls away, Yokel leans menacingly against the open passenger door, and we notice one of his hands is tightly bandaged.
Sherman happily swings away at a golf ball. He's got a bucket of them, but it looks like he's shooting directly at a lake, which seems a little pointless, but I'm sure it's just because he's wise and all-knowing and understands this has greater cosmic significance than the mind of man can grasp. Near the edge of the forest, Yokel's eyes gleam orange and he barks, "Say when," in a wolfish, edgy tone. He's hungry. Ty calmly replies, "Relax, buddy. Give the guy a fighting chance." Yokel squeezes his eyes shut and shakes off the orange irises. Meanwhile, Fletch starts to run through the swampy forest. Something's after him; we know because we hear the wolf snarls and see Fletch in heat-seeker vision. Fletch is completely terrified, tripping when his pants get caught on some greenery and screaming in abject pain when an unseen animal drags him away. Sherman, from his tee box, hears the screams and listens without reaction, thinking that while he loves being the keeper of all Wolf Lake's secrets, he's pretty sure it's hard to cover up this shit.
Lou scales a chain-link fence that closes off Wolf Lake High School to the public. It looks dilapidated, and a nearby sign reads "No Entry." But mere signs cannot stop the purposeful steps of a determined Lou, lovelorn and clad in the kind of flannel that says, "I will enter, and I will probably build a tree fort while I'm there." Barging into the abandoned school, Lou paces the halls until he locates a pay phone -- and the number exactly matches the one from which the mythical Earl Butry called in the Ruby sighting. But that cold reality isn't what makes Lou turn around slowly with a look of suspicion on his fake-n-baked mug. No, he's spied something even better -- a photograph. Incensed, he smashes open the trophy case and removes the group shot containing cap-and-gown-clad Ruby. That seems so unnecessary. Wouldn't a cop have more polished ways of breaking into a locked trophy case? If a friggin' shapeshifter can break into Ruby's car without harming it, I'd assume Lou can jimmy a padlock.
Church. The people of Wolf Lake may like to eat each other, but they're really, really penitent about it. Ty is there, along with Specs and the other local youths. Shirtless Paul -- who had chased Lou's motorbike -- leans forward to whisper to Specs, but his stern father yanks him back into his seat. Lou barges in mid-hymn and starts shouting that he's from Seattle, he's a cop, his booty calls are going unanswered, he needs to find his woman, and he needs the number of a good cleaning service. The congregation falls silent. Lou dramatically examines all their faces, then announces that he has Incontrovertible Proof and they all need to pay attention to him because it's all about him and God loves him best and God wants him to find his sex toy and Lou, Lou, Lou. He whips out Ruby's picture. "This is Ruby Cates. I knew her as Ruby Wilder," Lou intones with a snarl. "Now for the last time, where is she?" Reluctantly, Shirtless Paul's father stands and says, "I'm Willard Cates; this is my wife Vivian. We're Ruby's parents." Lou looks startled and yet self-satisfied. I should note that Shirtless Paul is Luke, Ruby's brother.
Moon Shot II. The Cates family lives in quite a manse, and has a full feast on the dining-room table: fruits and berries of the forest, wild roast wolf...er, "roast beast," I mean -- and an array of tastefully chosen side dishes to complement any foreign meat that tastes like chicken. "Everyone lies, Detective," Willard says. "I run a brewery. Distributors, bottlers, grain brokers...they all lie. From the sheer pleasure of it, I sometimes think." So Ruby's dad runs a brewery, eh? That's the kind of friend I always wanted. Willard disrupts my thought by uttering the silliest pseudo-profound line I've ever encountered, and that includes a healthy library of smut novels: "The Earth spins on an axis of denial, in an orbit of deceit." Yeah, sure. He's probably lying. Plato and Socrates are doubled over in their graves. In fact, I just ran out and dug one for myself so I could roll in it.
Willard adds that the townspeople aren't lying, but are simply protecting him. "Us," interjects Vivian. "Our family." Vivian is Sharon Lawrence, and she promises to be fairly trampy. As always. Willard, as the area's biggest employer, signs most of the checks and more or less buys people's silence that way. Except his version is that, out of gratitude for the wages, everyone is respecting the family pain by keeping all the details of Ruby's plight hidden. Potato, po-tah-to. Vivian sips her wine and looks sultrily at Lou. I say she's tries to seduce him by episode three. Willard explains that Ruby has been gone for two years, and that they're devastated by the pain of not knowing her fate. Vivian says that the last time they saw her, she was in a private hospital, and a bunch of drivel follows to the effect that she was self-destructive and suicidal, so they institutionalized her. Lou pushes the issue, asking whether they've checked with other relatives, old boyfriends, former roommates, or anyone else from Ruby's past. "Don't you think we've tried? Don't you think we've racked our brains?" Willard says, brokenly. Vivian figures her breasts have been out of the shot for far too long, so she gets up and puts her hand on Willard's shoulder while pointing her chest right toward Lou, as if to say, "We've racked our brains, but you haven't racked these." Lou puts his head in his hands, because it's time to get personal. "You're not here because you're a policeman, are you? You're here because you loved her," Vivian says sagely. Well, that, and he's contractually bound to chase Ruby, but Vivian's close enough.
Out on the streets, there's some of that "rap" music playing and bonfires burning. Ah, youth. But why is it that every time kids gather in small towns, there're fires blazing in random places and without reason? Are they so into metaphor? A red Mustang pulls up in front of Specs; the driver, Luke, honks at her. He's got two chicks in the car and one other guy. "Get in," he calls to Specs. "Come on, one more chance? We'll go easy on you this time." Specs looks dubious, then caves to his wheedling tone and slides into the back seat behind him. The creep in the back leans in too close and slimes, "Hello."
Moon Shot III. Lou is inside the Cates Manse with Vivian, forced to look at photos from Ruby's youth. They pause at one from her senior year, when she was Lady of the Lake at the Founder's Day Parade. She's grinning, wearing a pink taffeta nightmare and a tiara. No wonder Ruby ran away from home. Then they pause at one of Ruby as a werewolf, fangs bared and juiced up and about to nosh on one of the neighbor's pet gerbils. "That was Ruby on her Sweet Sixteen," Vivian says fondly. "I'll never forget the day she first tore raw flesh." Pshaw. As if this show would get that interesting. Vivian instead says that they're trying to hide Ruby's existence because it hurts too much, and silence is like taking a giant eraser to her history. What a lovely sentiment. "I saw the most beautiful thing last night," Lou says. "In my window, just sitting there at the edge of the lake, a white wolf." Vivian looks subtly stunned for a split second, then blinks it away and slowly says, "Wow, that's very rare. Know what the Indians would say?" Lou shakes his head. "That someone is watching over you, and you have found your way into Guguma's favor," Vivian continues. Lou looks totally flummoxed. "The spirit who made the earth," she clarifies. Oh, please. She's a slut, not an Earth mother. Lou says, "Let's hope that's true," as they stare at a Ruby glamour shot wherein her hair covers half her face. That probably means something, but I'm already too worn out to care.
More cars and fires, sure signs of a kids' night out and an impending hickey outbreak all across Wolf Lake. In the red Mustang, Luke makes out with a blonde girl who looks like a very low-rent Pamela Anderson, and that is saying quite a lot -- that rent's probably in the negative numbers. In the back, a slime is trying to feed Specs some X, but she's refusing. "She'll tell her dad," spits Pammy. Specs protests, and the slimeball abandons peer pressure and instead hovers over her like he wants to engage in some heavy petting. As Luke sucks on Pammy's tongue, he looks into the rearview and meets a nervous Specs's eyes. His flicker orange. More of this lust and longing goes on for a bit, then Specs starts to freak and demands to be let out of the car. Slimeball argues, but Luke snaps at him and insists that Specs be set free. She flees, and he sadly looks after her.
At the bar, Sheriff Donner plays on a grand piano while the prison singer stretches herself out atop it and croons. Irritatingly. Lou orders a beer and is handed one of the Cates family brews, with a red seal on the label bearing exactly same symbol that was featured on Ruby's earring. He then looks up and notices Yokel and his bandaged hand; as he ponders all of this, Sherman appears to him and lies that the singer was born to sing soul. "Egg man," Lou says, by way of greeting. Charming. They banter about whether Lou's found what he wants, and whether Lou's leaving town. Lou's completely cagey about it, and Sherman sasses, "What we've got here is the enigmatic stranger tonight." But we all know who the real enigma is. Egg man, I'm looking in your direction. As Lou tries to ignore Sherman, we see the sage flipping a quarter around his knuckles -- just like the so-called "Earl Butry" did when he tipped off Lou about Wolf Lake. Oh, Sherm, you are a scamp! Lou tries to walk out coolly, but as he passes Yokel, he grabs his bandage and rips it off, revealing an enormously underdeveloped arm and hand. Lou gulps and says he made a mistake, dropping cash on the bar to buy Yokel's drink and escaping before things get ugly. Yokel squints.
On a balcony, Vivian stands wrapped in nothing but a sheet. "No human deserves a view like this," she muses. "The toilet seat wobbles, and it slips..." A man's hand caresses her arm, then Ty appears on-screen and starts kissing her bare shoulder. "Wobbly seat, can't have that," he says between lickings. Viv asks if "our little weekender" is gone yet, and Ty answers in the negative. "Guess it was too much to hope for, that he would leave of his own free will," she says, unaroused by Ty's continued smooching. He begs her to stay and starts removing her sheet; she coyly refuses and Ty looks put-out that she won't be putting out.
Lou hears a piercing shriek in the parking lot. He runs to a red Mustang and yanks open the door, grabbing Luke's collar and throwing him to the ground. Peering inside to help the "victim," he's confronted by a shrieking she-wolf that is probably Pammy -- and "she-wolf" is, incidentally, a term the real Pam Anderson must get quite a lot. Before Lou can register the vision, he's clubbed on the noggin.
When he wakes, Lou is lying on the forest floor, no doubt working on developing a fresh pine scent all his own. He grabs his head, staggers to his feet, and notices immediately that his gun is missing. Suddenly, he hears twigs cracking and we see a heat-vision glimpse of his body. Oh, that's odd. He's coming up blue. The wolf runs away -- there's no hotness here.
Sigh. We all know that's not true, I guess. Instead, the wolf sees a flaming red outline of Lou and begins its pursuit, chasing Lou through the boggy land and making him dart between trees and hurdle foliage. Howling. WolfCam. Leaping Lou. Howling. Panting. Leaping Lou. WolfCam. Drooling. Howling. Running Lou. WolfCam. Dizzy Heathen. WolfCam. Snoring Heathen. Finally, Lou trips and puts his foot inside a wolf trap, screaming in fake agony and collapsing to the fake ground with fake terror. The thing to do here is strip, so he removes his jacket and wraps it around one arm, convinced a wolf's teeth aren't sharp enough to split cotton fabric.
Suddenly, an Aria of Commingled Beauty and Horror alerts us to the arrival of the white wolf, which appears on the horizon and stares kindly at Lou. Thick rays of light suddenly shine down on Lou, lighting the path between him and the lupine creature. White Wolf wanders gracefully down the slope and stares meaningfully at Lou, the same stock shot of its pale blue eyes that we saw before. Lou gazes at it, as though he has much to learn from his new friend. He's gone from The King and I to The Thing and I. Suddenly, a shot fells the beautiful beast and Willard appears from the bushes, accompanied by his flannel army of cronies. "Didn't have to kill it," snarls Lou. Willard explains that it's a tranquilizer dart "for relocation." Lou is adamant that the white wolf wouldn't have hurt him; Willard maintains that they've been hunting it for days and that this is quite normal, clearly forgetting that the Earth turns on an axis of lies in an orbit of deceit. "When they lose their fear for humans, that's when they're most dangerous," Willard says. He scoops up the wolf and carries it off, but we see him bury his face in its fur momentarily and whisper an emotional, "Forgive me." Lou, of course, gets the last look, and it's a suspicious one. He's just now starting to connect the dots, and realize that Wolf Lake is home to some pretty curious creatures, most likely a herd of the most wicked mountain goats he's ever encountered.
Specs leaves school -- looks like a newer one than that which Lou vandalized earlier -- and runs smack into the big-city cop, noticing his scraped face. "Pretty ravenous back yard you got there but you knew all about that don't you," Lou speed-talks, trying for flip and missing badly. She sighs and flatly says that she doesn't know where Ruby is. Lou follows her, begging her to tell him what frightened her in the forest that first night he arrived. Specs is still cagey, and is deeply skeptical of Lou's claim that Ruby is important to him. "Important, like, 'If I find her I'm gonna get promoted, and be on all the talk shows, and get in all the newspapers, and my book about it can probably be a Keanu Reeves movie'?" she spits, rolling her eyes. Lou clenches his jaw, method-acts by pretending he just found out his fan club disbanded, and conjures some tears. "No," he rasps. "If I don't find her, the entire rest of my life isn't going to have one true moment of joy or meaning. Important like that." Specs is shaken. Lou persists that he must know whether Ruby is there, especially in light of the hordes trying to make him think she isn't and has never been. "What does that tell you?" Specs asks quietly, walking away. He calls after her, "I never got your name." She turns. "Sophia," she says. Lou stares after her confusedly, as is his wont, while a man watches from inside the school.
That man is Sherman. He's instructing a gaggle of students about the numerous ways people hunt and track wolves. Luke is there, and he stares lasciviously at Pammy. I would suggest he's planning to eat her, but I suspect he already has. As shocking slides of wolf hunting flash across a projector screen, Sherman talks about poison and bullets and bounties, and how man could, in theory, exterminate wolves in less than six months. "What's the most important thing to the wolf?" he asks. "Survival of the pack," the class feebly replies, in unison. Sherman asks for repetition; the students oblige, with a bit more feeling. "That's right, my little brothers and sisters," Sherman says. "Survival of the pack." Ah, so he is teaching the wee cubs the art of wolfery -- and is a shapeshifter himself. And with the first of Sherman's Great Secrets revealed to an excited viewing audience of about four, we fade out on the sight of a wolf's gaping maw of teeth.
And that's Wolf Lake. It's campy, it's hilariously unspectacular, and it's amazingly derivative of everything from Twin Peaks to The Hound of the Baskervilles. And it's so much more fun to recap than Band of Brothers, so I hope it lingers just a bit longer.
week, Lou keeps looking for Ruby, while the town shapeshifters wreak more havoc.