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“Rizzoli & Isles” Subtext Recap (4.14): Love makes a family

You see, this is why I never go to open mic nights. All the bad singers, skeazy dudes and backstabbing—literally. Better to stay at home and watch a homicide detective and medical examiner pretend they aren’t totally gay for each other. Much safer—though, admittedly, sometimes uninvited dudes still pop up and you have to hit them over the head until they leave.

So Jane is at Maura’s place, because that’s what girlfriends do before they submit to the siren song of the U-Haul. She’s eating Gluten-free “cookies,” which is also something girlfriends do when one of the girlfriends likes that sort of shit and the other one just likes getting laid. Oh, sorry, too honest?

Jane is telling Frankie to hurry up because Maura and her pulled an 18-hour day—if you know what she means. Maura tells Jane to be nice and let her younger brother impress her. It’s so thoughtful how Maura has become the protector of the entire Rizzoli clan.

Frankie shows off his refurbished motorcycle. Which, of course, he has been fixing up at Maura’s place because those are the sorts of privileges you get as brother-in-law. The bike looks good, and you can already see Jane plotting for ways to borrow it for long road trips down the coast with Maura on the back riding bitch. (We all know Jane’s a terrible passenger already.)

But the daydream is short-lived because Papa Rizzoli saunters in with Tommy close behind. You remember Francesco Rizzoli Sr., right? The guy who left Mrs. Rizzoli, slept with his son’s girlfriend and stuck them all with a $27,000 IRS bill. So everyone is clearly thrilled to see him.

Alienating his already alienated family and the entire lesbian fanbase even more, Frank Sr. decides to denigrate Maura’s role in the family by insisting they not discuss this in front of “people.”

What comes next, United States of Gayzzoli, is our “Nobody puts baby in a corner!” moment. Jane says, verbatim, “What people? THAT’S MAURA!” If you’ve made a similarly emphatic declaration of couplehood to a homophobic parent, relative or friend, raise your hand.

Maura gives Jane the quick, “It’s OK, honey, this is totally not worth it” look and leaves to make some tea. Because, as we all well know, all lesbian problems can be solved by a nice cup of tea. (This also applies to British people, I’ve heard.)

Frank Sr. says he’s just there to see Mama R, who immediately materializes behind him with her beau Lt. Cavanaugh. If familial awkwardness could be turned into energy, you could use the amount here to cook 200 turkey dinners.

Jane and Maura leave that uncomfortable situation for the comparatively more preferable scene of a bloody murder. The detectives are all at the open-mic night bar to examine the female stabbing victim and her guitar case. Jane notices a cylindrical void in the case. Could it have been a “non-biological phallic-shaped object?” Maura says she doesn’t want to conduct a full examination until she has slept. And had a chance to consult the one in her top dresser drawer.

But Jane knows just how to motivate her girlfriend to give her the information she wants. Again, verbatim: “Do you want this conversation to end and go to bed?” Boom. It’s almost like you don’t need me here at all.

After fully satisfying Maura’s bed needs, Jane returns to her apartment (presumably because she ran out of clean clothes in her “drawer”). She finds Frank (who is drinking again) swilling from a brown paper bag at her doorstep. She’s naturally annoyed, because so much for the afterglow. But then he goes and drops the Big C on her. It’s hard to hold onto simmering familial resentment in the face of Cancer. But we can try.

Jane demands some answers to why Papa R suddenly turned into such an A-S-S besides an obvious vendetta by the writers. He mumbles something about just being unhappy and that a mid-(more like late)-life crisis is a hell of a thing. Oh, did I mention he wants Jane to tell Angela about his prostrate cancer to garner sympathy and help from her? Man, he really, really pissed off the writers.

Of course, his visit sends Jane running back to Maura’s. Nobody makes it all better like your girlfriend after an upsetting—well—anything. Maura offers her more tea and some Totally Gratuitous, Totally Gay Touching.

Jane complains to Maura about how her father was talking about his “manhood.” I want to complain about that, too. Everyone should complain about that. Jane also wonders whether Papa R could be faking his cancer diagnosis. Well, now I just have to know what Chazz Palminteri did to the writers. Because you know it was something bad.

Mama R walks in and overhears enough. Jane confesses that it’s cancer and there are a lot of furrowed brows and feelings. Aw, the Rizzolis really are sweet. Minus Frank Sr.

On the case, the team discovers the victim was a music conservatory student and daughter of a famous composer. Maura wants Jane to sniff her stomach contents, because of course she does. But Jane “does not sniff,” which is a good rule of thumb for pretty much everyone who isn’t in a rose garden.

Discussion turns back to Jane’s parents’ sex lives. And now she is starting to think sniffing stomach contents would be a more appealing option. But then there’s a Rizzoli Family emergency text for moral support for Mama R. Jane tries to ditch because of work, but Maura gives her the stern girlfriend look plus head tilt. Pro tip: Always obey the stern girlfriend look plus head tilt.

The Rizzolis are huddled at the Division One CafĂ© when Frank Sr. walks in. He wants them all to have one last family dinner together before it’s “too late.” Mama R suggests Maura’s, but he wants someplace it can just be “family.”

Oh, honey child, here come the fireworks. Mama R laughs at him, because she knows love makes a family. Also she is totally the captain of this ship. She tells him Maura took her in, Maura loves her daughter, Maura is her family. Can we get Angela a “PFLAG Mom of the Year” pin to add to her apron collection, please?

Yet Mama R still takes Frank “The Jerk” Sr. to his doctor’s appointment and afterward tells Jane it “doesn’t look good.” Seriously, this family is so sweet—minus Frank Sr. Also, they did really good casting with Lorraine Bracco as Angie Harmon’s mom. Just an observation.

The victim’s parents come and tell them that she was an adopted, shy, friendless, alcoholic music prodigy in rehab who was afraid to perform in public. Um, perhaps she never gave them Mother’s or Father’s Day cards. Frost then teaches Korsak about The Interwebs and YouTube and Pitchfork. Did Pitchfork buy this product placement? Because I don’t know if their demographic and this show’s demographic are the same. But maybe we’re all just closet Sufjan Stevens fans.

But the evidence shows otherwise (about the victim, not all of the viewership carpooling to Coachella together). The victim had alcohol in her system and was at an open-mic night with her guitar. They find a posted video of her busking in the subway station. And then Jane tells Korsak he just has to see this keyboard playing cat, and they laugh and laugh and laugh.

Red Herrings No. 1 (skeazy bar guy) and No. 2 (really bad drum player) come and go. Jane gets a little glum, because the case is taking them to one dead end after another. But Maura has worn her skin-tight pencil-dress for just this reason. A girlfriend knows when her girlfriend might need a little visual pick-me-up. Bless you, costume department.

Jane’s morose attitude is one part case, two parts her dad’s diagnosis. But Maura assures her the test isn’t very reliable. And then she mentioned “digital stimulation during sexual experimentation.” Oh, do you ladies have a lot of experience with that? Asking for a friend.

Maura then promptly invites Jane over for “dinner.” Well, there might be eating involved. Heyyy-O! But then Jane remembers. She invited her entire family over to Maura’s house without asking her first. That is an automatic -10 Girlfriend Points, Jane Clementine Rizzoli.

Poor Maura. She is such a good sport with these Rizzolis. She is allowing tuna casserole and Jell-O molds and creamed corn out of a can to be served at the Isles Estate. That, my friends, is love. But then Mama R tells them there will be guests, plural, coming to dinner. Ruh-roh, Rhaggy.

First it’s Frank Sr, with his dyed blue carnations. Then it’s Cavanaugh with a fresh bouquet of soft-pink roses. In the Flower Olympics, Cavanaugh is Michael Phelps and Frank Sr. is that guy who dog paddled in the 100-meter freestyle—but much less endearing.

Dinner is another awkward extravaganza, fueled by bacon-wrapped Vienna sausage. And, in Frank Sr.’s case, most of a bottle of red. I think you could cook all of Boston a turkey dinner off the bad energy in the room. Frank Sr. proceeds to call Tommy an “idiot savant” who could play chess but was “useless at everything else.” Then he calls Frankie a “quitter” who was “babied” by Mama R. She tries to remind him about what alcohol does to his tongue. Um, too late, we can all see.

An ugly familial scene ensues that, for many, will be all too familiar. Cavanaugh also sort of threatens to kill Frank Sr., which is probably a no-no for a police officer. But in the end it’s all just awful and Jane tells her father he can never take back the terrible things he says to his kids. And then she apologizes to Maura. There are tears. So much tea and sympathetic spooning are in order tonight. So much.

The next morning Frost and Korsak are also there for her, too, but in a less snuggly way and more coffee and Danish way. Frost confides that his dad is an “asshole, too.” Group hug, everyone, group hug.

The investigation breaks up their kumbaya moment. They go to search the victim’s room at the rehab facility. Inside they find her laptop and a guitar. But Korsak informs them it’s probably not hers because, oh, who cares. Did you know Bruce McGill can play guitar beautifully?

Anyway, they question the roommate who happens to be singing one of the victim’s songs at the memorial service — but with a much less beautiful voice. The roommate claims she never played guitar, etc. etc. We know where this is going, right? Back to Bruce and that guitar. He really can play.

Back at the precinct, Maura indulges in a speculation and makes a connection between a brand of marshmallow vodka and the victim’s stomach contents. Long story considerably shorter: The roommate did it. She stole her song to get a record deal. Yadda-yadda. Whew. I’m so glad that’s out of the way. Now we can get back to the important stuff.

Jane and Maura return to the Isles Estate laughing after what I can only assume was a celebratory romantic case closed dinner at the Dirty Robber. Bless Maura for not getting tired of going to the same place each night. But when they arrive home they find Angela and Frank Sr. He has come to apologize to Jane and Maura (about time), for being a pig.

He also tells them he only has Stage 2 cancer, which is treatable. So, good? He also calls Jane his No. 1 Daughter. Yes, she is also his only daughter. Oy, this guy. He is actually thinking of moving back to Boston and finally everyone has had enough. Mama R tells him they have separate lives now. And Jane gives him the, “Stay in touch.” So, I think that’s probably the last of Mr. Palminteri we’ll see in a while.

Good thing our true families are the ones we make ourselves. The people who are proud to be with us. The people who choose to hold us close. And for the Rizzolis, that definitely includes Maura, and vice versa. Don’t ya just love big nutball families?

See? See how good this show is without all the unnecessary facial hair?

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