Archive

The L Word Recaps 4.12 “Long Time Coming”

THIS WEEK’S L WORD VOCABULARY:

Flowers: A generic gift only an idiot would give.

Pariah: A girl and her Pomeranian.

Phones: Transmitters of messages – but not always the ones you intend to convey.

THIS WEEK’S GUEST-BIANS: Kristanna Loken wants some privacy; Annabella Sciorra wants to be wanted; Heather Matarazzo wants revenge; Jane Lynch wants Cybill Shepherd.

Bette’s blues – Bette is shuffling along in a madding crowd. She looks lost. For a moment it even seems like everyone else is zipping along while she’s in slow motion, but maybe I’ve just had a slight seizure in anticipation of the theme song. I do know that Bette is in a marketplace of some sort, or a street fair. But it’s a weird mix of people: There are the requisite booths and the tourists wearing balloon hats, but there are also picketers carrying “Bush is a liar” signs and pleading for higher wages. Where are we, Mama Chaiken? Have you taken us over the gay rainbow again?

No, wait: Maybe it’s a biblical marketplace. You know, like the one in the temple with all the buyers and the sellers who thought money was more important than God. Maybe Bette is Jesus. Maybe she’s going to raze the place and burst into song: “My temple should be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves! Get up! Get out!”

If there’s a prophet in this temple, it’s the woman Bette is slowly walking toward: a singer with a guitar. “How much more?” she asks, echoing the strife on Bette’s face. (She also asks, in a fit of excessive, ungrammatical comparison, “How much more longer?” – but I’m trying to let that go.)

Singer: I’ve been standin’ at the station, baby, waiting for my change to come.

That bluesy voice belongs to Toshi Reagon, and she’s strumming Bette’s pain with her fingers. Bette moves toward her as if she’s hypnotized. And because she’s Bette, she reaches into her purse for some money to put in Toshi’s guitar case. Remember when Bette told Candace that she just writes checks rather than joining linked-arm human shields? Well, here she goes again, throwing money at the things that hit home.

And then Bette raises her head to face the day – or, more precisely, a sign. It’s an old metal sign that says “17 reasons why!” Hmm … 17 reasons why you should give Toshi more money? Or 17 reasons why it’s weird that you’re wandering though this hodgepodge marketplace? Or 17 reasons why you learned the truth at 17?

This sign (or, rather, its “poetically ambiguous” real-life counterpart) has a rich history; for now, the point is that it seems to be speaking to Bette. It moves her so much, she reaches for more money, gazing up at Toshi and the sign if they’ve just shown her everything she needs to know.

Also, see that plane flying behind the sign? Clearly that’s the Fantasy Island plane. I don’t know what that means, but I suddenly have a hankering for an umbrella drink. I wish I could get this kind of profound guidance from my surroundings – where’s an inscrutable (or perhaps entirely transparent) omen when you need one?

Jenny’s latest spaz-out – Jenny is buying coffee at the Planet. Naturally, it’s complicated coffee – a medium triple soy cappuccino with three pumps of vanilla – but what makes it so very Jenny is the fact that she mumbles, “the money’s right here,” and expects the barista to take the money from her hand because her hands are too full for her to do anything herself. Jenny, have you heard of those things called bags? They come in many shapes and sizes, and they greatly simplify the challenge of juggling your possessions while making a purchase.

Tina arrives. She has more for Jenny to juggle: some rudimentary books on screenwriting. That would seriously harsh Jenny’s superstar buzz, but we don’t get to witness such an event – Jenny doesn’t have time to talk because she has to go get her new puppy. God, help us all. Especially the furry ones among us.

Jenny tells Tina not to worry; she won’t be late for the meeting that afternoon. But Tina says the meeting has been canceled; Lorenzo, the senior V.P., is on location. Tina’s doing that smarmy Hollywood thing with her face and voice, but even under that veneer, it’s pretty apparent that she’s lying.

Jenny: What a f—ing asshole.

Tina: [shrugging] I know. It’s Hollywood.

Jenny: I hate this f—ing Hollywood bulls—.

Tina: Good luck with your puppy.

Jenny: It’s a Pomeranian.

Tina: [wincing] Oh, how cute.

Jenny: I know! It’s gonna be so mini and cute. I’ll see you later. Have a really nice day, Tina.

Well, you have a great day, too, you mercurial mess! You just went from hate to love in about three seconds flat. After Jenny goes, Tina just stands there, surrounded by caffeine-craving yuppies but no doubt feeling more relaxed now that the Schecterian typhoon of moods has left the room.

Wax – Shane and Paige are making out. It makes me think of Cherie Jaffe, and that makes me think of the time Cherie showed up for a haircut, and Carmen got jealous. Carmen! Sigh.

The make-out session (which is backed by great music, “Action” by Bomber) is very brief: Jared interrupts. Paige and Shane look guilty, which of course makes Jared even more curious. He asks them what they were doing.

Paige: Uh, nothing.

Shane: [motioning around to nothing in particular] Setting up.

Paige: Yeah, we weren’t doing anything.

Aw, was that really the best you could do? You could have at least said you were reading stories or waxing something.

Jared goes off to buy some stickers for his board. Paige is tired of all the interruptions:

Paige: I love being with you in cars and at your work. But I would really like to f— you in a bed. And I would like to go to sleep with you. And then I’d like to wake up with you.

Those are indeed some of the greatest pleasures in life, but I’m not sure Shane’s the right one to want them with. Shane says they’ll talk to Jared, but she says it in an emotionless, “yes, dear” sort of way, complete with a peck on the cheek.

At some point during this scene, we see the name Erin Daniels in the credits. To quote Bette in the last episode, this is “so f—ing unacceptable.” Must you reopen the wound and dump in a whole shaker of salt?

Alice’s garage – Alice, in her blue Mini, is pulling out of her garage. Tasha pulls up on her bike and tells her to get out of the car. Wow, it’s Mini vs. motorcycle. I’m not sure who to bet on, and I’m suddenly hearing circus music in my head.

Alice does get out of the car, but she just turns and walks away rather than going toward Tasha. Tasha chases her and tries to apologize:

Tasha: I’m sorry. I know how I handled it was f—ed up.

Alice: Yeah.

Tasha: I should have told you sooner.

Alice: Yeah.

Tasha just wants Alice to come to her going away party. She sort of mumbles when she says that, so at first I think she says, “gonorrhea party.” Fun!

Alice: [looking at the invitation] Who the f— is Eva Torres?

Tasha: It’s Papi.

Oh. Eva Torres. Of course: the reason Carmen didn’t go to her prom.

Alice walks around in every possible direction in an effort to get away from Tasha. Where are you going, Alice? Into your apartment? No, wait, over there. No, over there. She’s like the proverbial beheaded chicken – which isn’t even proverbial. I’ve been chased by one of those things, and they can really run.

She finally stops and faces Tasha. Understandably, Alice is having trouble accepting that Tasha is really going back to Iraq. As Tasha talks about the next steps in the process, Alice reverts to her snarky ways.

Tasha: I have a bag drag tomorrow.

Alice: Excellent.

Tasha: That’s where the unit gathers at the base, and we sort through all of our equipment to make sure we have everything we need for deployment. And then I have to get my mobility folder in order.

Alice: [walking away again] Oh, yeah, you can’t have a disorderly mobility folder.

Maybe Alice is just pretending to be clueless, Tasha. I mean, look at her necklace: Not only is it possibly some sort of torture device, but it will also come in handy if she needs to cut some cookie dough into festive, stylized pentagon shapes. Like for a cookie party at the Pentagon or something.

But Alice is too busy defending herself to defend her country. She offers to give Tasha the name of her doctor, who will be willing to say that Tasha has “crabs or scurvy or whatever.”

Tasha: I’m not trying to get out of it. I leave on Monday for two weeks of pre-deployment training. It’s Fort Irwin in the Mojave, f—ing armpit of the universe, way worse than Iraq. And if I survive that, then we ship out.

Alice: [walking off] Ugh.

Tasha: Alice, wait.

Alice: Can you just go?

Tasha: Alice, can’t you maybe just try to understand that this isn’t some whim for me? I made a commitment.

Alice: I get it, Tasha. I understand, OK? Just go. Just go honor your f—ing commitment.

Ouch. Tasha just leaves the invitation on the doorstep and goes.

Movin’ on up – Hey, there’s Eva Torres. She’s helping Helena move Catherine’s stuff into a swank beach house. You know it’s posh because there’s a porcelain dog statue thingie. It’s not as groovy-looking as the one Joey had on Friends, but it’s still pretty fetch. Papi says she’s happy to help but doesn’t understand why Catherine can’t afford to hire movers.

Helena: Yeah, I suppose she could. But I’m here, and I’m able-bodied, and it’s not as if I work for a living.

Papi doesn’t like the sound of that, but Helena says her arrangement with Catherine suits her just fine. Then why were you whining about it just now?

Papi: Look, she left you a message. [reading a note] “Helena, dear, separate my underwear: bikinis, thongs, briefs … and fold them before you put it away.”

Helena tries to salvage her dignity by saying she’s got all the luxuries she’s used to, and the sex isn’t bad.

Papi: As long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.

Even if you do, Helena, this just isn’t the life for you, even if you do look good in those jeans. And the sex “isn’t bad”? It didn’t exactly look good. And in general, you’re just protesting too much. But I’m glad Guru Papi is there to help. When the hell did she get so wise, anyway? Maybe the revelation of her real name has concomitantly transformed her into a real character rather than a caricature. Nah.

Shaolin Studios – Bette and Tina are strolling on the Shaolin lot. Nice threads, Bette – much better than those poofy, billowy things you were wearing in the last episode.

The sight of them walking like this reminds me of when Bette was preparing to face off with Fae Buckley. She was trying to remember a Kurosawa quote, and Tina just kissed her to calm her down. I suppose that won’t happen this time. But Bette is almost as rattled as she was then; she’s trying to figure out what to do about Jodi. She’s as prickly and stiff as the giant cacti props they’ve just passed. Ah, Bette. So many cues all around you. Maybe you and Tina will pass a bridal shop and have an incredible flash of insight.

Tina scolds Bette for missing Jodi’s opening. You know, as in art show opening. Don’t be so dirty-minded.

Bette: No, I mean, come on, I told you what happened after the dinner party. Really. I mean, and then, then, after she gets the commission and she doesn’t tell me about it? Come on, I have a department to run.

Tina: Bette.

Bette: What?

Tina: Could you be any more self-serving and self-centered?

They stop at a craft services table. Tina must have stopped by one earlier – one that sold truth serum, because she’s completely uncensored as she gives Bette some heartfelt advice. She does so by typing several statements into Bette’s Blackberry: an apology to Jodi.

Tina: [typing] “Dear Jodi: When I am scared, I micromanage. When I am uncertain, I overstate. And when I am challenged, I, uh, belittle and lash out. And when I love someone, I try to put her in a box.”

Bette tells her to go ahead and send the message to Jodi. I know it’s not cool to break up via text message, but maybe it’s OK to apologize via Blackberry.

So, Tina? Why couldn’t you have said all this when you and Bette were breaking up? I know, I know. Bette wasn’t exactly ready to hear it then. On a related note, Laurel, whence cometh the sudden acting ability? I knew you had it in you somewhere, but why did you deprive us for so long?

Tina: Now you have to follow up with something romantic.

Bette: I sent her flowers.

Tina: Flowers? That’s generic. Is Jodi generic?

Bette starts to reveal her crazy idea for romancing not-generic Jodi – it involves a building – but Kate shows up and kills the moment. Actually, Kate looks like she’s ready to kill more than just the moment: She’s wearing a T-shirt with a pentagram on it. I know, I know, the pentagram is a Wicca thing, not a Satan-worshipping thing, but in Kate’s hands, even a freakin’ fuzzy little bunny would be a Satan-worshipping thing. She just comes across as a dour, judgmental jerk. Oh, that’s right: She is.

Bette: [to Tina] So, you’re back with women, then?

Tina: Mmm, ahh, we’re just working together. Do you have a problem with that?

Bette: That you’re back with women? No, of course not.

Say that like you mean it, Bette.

Bette says she just wants Tina to be happy and thanks her for the advice. Look at that smile she’s bestowing on you, Tina! It’s no surprise that you named your daughter Angelica; Mama B. sometimes has an empyreal countenance.

Tina and Bette share a brief goodbye kiss. It’s awkward; Tina gets flustered and giggly and obviously enjoys it a little too much.

A family meeting – Shane and Paige are at the Planet with Jared. They just want him to understand what it means for them to be girlfriends, so they’re plying him with fries. Hey, it’s better than hosting another after-school special. Jared almost gets ketchup on Shane’s tuxedo shirt. Kids are so messy, aren’t they? Especially when they speak their minds.

Jared: I already told you: I don’t want you to be a lez. [to Shane] I already know that you are, but I don’t want my mom to be one.

Jared goes over to the bar to pout. Yeah, that’s a good habit to get into, kid. Be sure to ask Auntie Kit to give you some pointers.

Shane takes the seat next to him and tells him his mom is really special and he should give them a break.

Shane: Do you not want Shay as a brother?

Jared: What do you mean?

Shane: I mean, we could get a house, and we could be like a family. And you and Shay could be like brothers.

Jared: But Shay doesn’t live with you anymore.

Shane: I know.

What? Are you plotting something, Shane? Because it sure didn’t seem like Papa Gabe was interested in giving up his son anytime soon. But I’m sure that’s not the point; we’re supposed to understand that what you really want is a family, and maybe that’s why you’re so keen on Paige.

Speaking of which, Paige is in the background during this scene, and the camera occasionally focuses on her while she emotes. I wouldn’t want her crocodile tears to go to waste, so let’s imagine what’s going on in Paige’s mind:

Paige’s thoughts: Gee, I hope that ketchup didn’t get on Shane’s sexy shirt. Oh, and I hope my kid doesn’t hate me. Ouch, I have a headache. Look sad, look sad! I’ll just try a french fry. Mmm, that’s tasty. Damn this stupid napkin. Gah, I’m so thirsty – hey, here’s the server with my drink, just in time! That’s swell. Oh, look at those two chatting. Shane looks hot, even though she has no ass to hold up those jeans. Speaking of asses, Jared’s such a pain in my ass lately – no, no, look sad, look sad. Think about sad things. Focus on the messy ketchup and your headache. Sad things. Whoa, did I forget to turn off the coffee this morning?

Kate’s marketplace – Tina takes Kate to her new office at Shaolin Studios. Kate is pleased with her digs; she’s an indie filmmaker, after all, so she’s used to setting up shop in bathrooms and such. I guess that explains why she looks like a hobo.

Tina, your flirting skills are barely better than Jenny’s. What you think is coquettish is coming across as constipated. But it doesn’t matter; Kate is in her own world, anyway.

Kate: So, is it Bette?

Tina: Is what Bette?

Kate: The person that you have feelings for. The reason you couldn’t come home with me the other night.

Tina: We’re working together. [pause] It was Bette. It was.

Kate: So why are you helping her get back together with Jodi?

Tina: I don’t know. Maybe I feel guilty that I want her back less than a year after breaking up. I f—ed up. It was f—king bloody. It was bad.

Kate: That’s what breakups are. They’re f—ing bloody.

Tina: I don’t have the right to complicate her life just because she’s met someone else.

Kate: And if it doesn’t work out between them?

Tina: I guess I’m waiting to see about that too.

Kate: Well, girls like me don’t stay on the open market very long. So if you want some of this, you’d better get in there sooner rather than later.

Just let her walk away, Tina. That market (or ego) is so inflated, it’s likely to crash any minute. Oh, and thanks for wearing a hat, Kate – we wouldn’t want the season to end without a few more hats on parade. But I wonder: What do the writers’ hats look like? You know, the ones that morph into blinders every time they face a character inconsistency or a plot deficiency?

Luckily, they must have doffed those hats when they wrote this scene. Again, much to my amazement, Tina is back in fine form. She’s finally letting her feelings for Bette come to the surface, even if she does intend to fight them by flirting with a posturing twit.

A meeting of the minds – Joyce Wischnia! You’re back! I’ve missed you. We’re in Phyllis’ office, where Bette is introducing her current boss to her former lawyer.

Bette: Phyllis, this is Joyce Wischnia, aka “the Reamer.”

Joyce: Pleasure to meet you, Phyllis.

Phyllis: Nice to meet you, Joyce. I hate to admit it, but I’m not familiar with … reamers?

Bette: It’s a precision tool, Phyllis. If you’re gonna be a lesbian, you’re gonna have to get to know your toolkit.

Joyce: Technically, a tool for enlarging holes. Which is not necessarily the analogy I would have chosen, but one rarely gets to choose one’s own endearing epithet.

Phyllis: I know. Mine is – oh, Bette, tell her.

Bette: Well, Phyllis, I have only heard you referred to as “ma’am.”

Phyllis: [giggling and offering a hand to Joyce] “Heads will roll” Kroll.

Joyce: I love it!

That was adorable. And you’re right about the endearing epithets, Joyce. If I had been consulted, you would have been called “the Masticator.” Or maybe “the Smarm,” because you do ooze so well.

Bette says Joyce is the best lawyer for Phyllis; after all, she got Bette and Tina through a “hideous custody battle.” Yeah, what about that custody battle? I guess the presence of Joyce is good in a full-circle way, but it also makes me realize that the baby-napping story line was kind of a dud: so much drama for so little purpose.

Never mind; the Reamer is speaking. She wants to know how Tina’s doing and is happy to hear that Tina and Bette have both moved on. Phyllis says Bette has driven her “someone” away, however.

Phyllis: Now, what are you going to do to get her back, Bette?

Bette: I sent her flowers.

Joyce: Flowers?! Oh, come on. You’re an idiot!

You rock, Joyce. Bette leaves them alone to chat.

Joyce: OK. Phyllis. Let’s have it.

Phyllis: Well, Joyce, I first suspected I might be a lesbian when I was a sophomore at Wellesley.

Every lesbian coming-out story starts with a variation on this theme. Each opening sentence begins with “I first suspected,” and ends with either (1) Wellesley; (2) the Indigo Girls; or (3) Maria from Sesame Street. I may be in the minority with that last one.

I love the way Joyce just sort of waits patiently, as if she’s constantly having to fend off late bloomers who want to bare their souls to her. Actually, that’s probably the case. But Joyce really wants to hear Phyllis’ present-day story, so she interrupts. Phyllis is a little confused, and not a little charmed.

A mind-blowing meeting – Tina and Kate are meeting with some studio bigwigs about Lez Girls. This is the meeting Tina was discussing with Jenny at the Planet; she told Jenny it was canceled. That worked for the first few minutes, but guess who just walked in? Jenny – and her little dog, too.

Tina: Jenny, we thought that, uh –

Jenny: What? That I was, uh, completely clueless? Someone to f– with?

Tina: No, of course not.

Jenny: Someone who didn’t realize what a lying, duplicitous, scheming excuse you are for a friend? [to the others] Be careful if you’re doing business with this woman, because she actually eats her own.

Kate: Jenny, actually, Tina’s been a really good friend to you. As a matter of fact, she’s protected you.

Jenny: She just wants to f— you. She does. She just wants to get in your pants.

Tina: Shut the f— up, Jenny, OK? You’re a c—. Bette almost lost her job because of you. Did you know that? That endangers my child. That is food in Angelica’s mouth. That is a roof over her head. And that, to me, is unforgivable.

Jenny: [chasing after Sounder, who is now on the conference room table] Oh, God, Tina. Can you just cut all your bulls—? Just because you’ve had a baby doesn’t make you more exalted than the rest of us. I am so f—ing tired of all these tedious lesbians having babies and the self-aggrandizing bulls—. [as Sounder pees on the table] Ooh. I’m sorry. He’s not potty-trained.

Wow. Jenny, you’re so crazy! But you’re so right about the self-aggrandizing parents (lesbian and otherwise). I sorta wish Sounder hadn’t interrupted that little rant. And Tina, as we say in the podcast, was the C-word really necessary? I do think it’s rich, though, that Jenny thinks you’re the one who’s a sorry excuse for a friend. After all, she’s the one who made you take part in a bidding war. I think maybe you two should just agree to stay far, far away from each other.

I don’t even want to speculate about how Kate’s going to spin this to all her friends and contacts. You know those Satanists and their blogs!

Communication, twice removed – Bette is putting the adorable Angelica to bed. They sign “I love you” to each other. Right on cue, Jodi calls. Tom is interpreting, which adds another challenge to what is already very difficult communication. Tom does his job very well, of course, even when Jodi doesn’t give him much to work with. He carries on his own conversation with Jodi as he interprets over the phone. I’ll do my best to capture the key points:

Jodi: What can I do for you?

Tom: [signing to Jodi] Come on, give her a break.

Jodi: [signing to Tom] Mind your own business.

Bette: I just wanted to say that … Jodi, I just … I got scared. And …

Jodi: And you put me in a box. I know.

Bette: Oh, so you got my email.

Jodi: Yes, I did. And I really appreciate your honesty.

Tom: [signing to Jodi] She’s trying.

Jodi: [signing to Tom] Stop.

They make a little small talk about the work and the weather, during which Bette has to keep saying “hello?” to make sure Jodi’s still there. At one point, Tom signs, “She loves you,” but Jodi doesn’t want to hear it.

Jodi: Was there anything in particular you wanted to speak to me about?

Bette: Yeah. Uh … well, I just … [breaking a little] I just wanted to say that I miss you. And, um, I’m sure Angie misses you, too. She just signed “I love you” to me tonight.

Jodi: That’s sweet.

And that’s all there is. Ouch. Jodi, you’re killing me. I know Bette was cold to you and you’re just giving it right back to her, but wow. I have a new understanding of the term “dead air.”

A gray dawn – It’s early. Bette and Max are at Shane’s house, chatting and loading equipment into a van. Max has loaned Bette his dolly along with a power-drill set and an extra rope. Well then. Shane wanders out and says good morning, and soon Alice shows up too, yawning and grumbling.

Before we can figure out what all of this is about, there’s something else to discuss. They all wish Max good luck in San Francisco, where he is scheduled to have surgery. But he’s not sure he’s going to go through with it.

Max: I might. I just … it’s an irreversible decision, you know?

Um, yeah. Should this maybe have occurred to you before now? Sigh. You should do what feels right to you, of course, and I know Grace kind of threw you for a loop. I hope somehow your story line gets put back together in Season 5, Max, but it’s possible that Humpty Dumpty has just fallen off the wall. Where were the therapy sessions? Where was your inner struggle? Where, oh where, is Grace? (I just sorta wanted to see her again.)

Anyway, Alice and Shane and Bette are ready to go wherever they’re going in that van. As they pull away, the camera gets so close to Max that we can almost see the expressionless Sea between his ears.

Three troublemakers – Bette, Alice and Shane (it’s great to see these three in a scene together) chat about Tasha’s going-away party. Alice says she’s not going.

Alice: I’m not going to a party to celebrate that the person I care for is about to leave for the most dangerous place on Earth. You know, to fight in a morally bankrupt war … and may be coming home in a body bag. It would be insane.

Shane: You’re wrong, Alice.

Bette: Well, she’s not totally wrong.

Shane: Why?

Bette: It is a morally bankrupt war.

Well, OK. Thanks for the political aside. Whatever your commander in chief might do to you, Tasha, you’ve already been discarded by the dialogue.

They’re now parked next to the building that boasts the “17 reasons why!” sign. It seems Jodi wants to use it in a sculpture. Oh. That’s definitely a lot less generic than flowers.

Bette is, as usual, extremely prepared. She has done all the necessary research about the building and its security, and she has all the right tools (after all, she’s the one who told Phyllis to get familiar with the toolkit).

Bette: OK. So. We have the dolly. We have the rope. We have the toolkit. We have the wire cutters. We have steaks.

Alice: [to Shane] Steaks? For lunch?

Shane: That’d be nice.

Bette snips the barbed wire (oh, by the way, Chaiken wrote that stellar film Barb Wire) at the top of the chain-link fence that’s surrounding the grounds, and they all fumble their way over. They pause on the way, though, to talk about Tina. Alice is sure she wants to get back together with Bette, but Bette says that makes no sense because Tina’s helping her get back together with Jodi. Does anything make sense when you’re perched atop a chain-link fence?

Once they’re on the ground, Bette takes the steaks out of the cooler. Before Alice can finish asking what they’re for, two snarling dogs appear. Alice emits the girliest shriek you’ve ever heard, and she and Shane cling to the fence as Bette locks the dogs in a cage with the steaks.

It’s ridiculous. It’s awesome.

As they continue their caper, Shane asks whether they’ve heard about a suburb called Valley Village, where you can get a three-bedroom house and the kids can ride their bikes to school. She trails off because the door Bette’s yanking on is locked. They see an open window.

Alice: [to Shane] Let’s go, fatty. Come on.

She gives Shane a boost and then pretty much tosses her through the window.

Bette: [to Alice] Why is she talking about kids and bikes and family rooms?

Alice: I don’t think that’s Shane. I think that’s a pod person in Shane’s body pretending to be Shane.

And then Bette tosses Alice through the window, too. These three can do slapstick, and I’m so glad they’re getting the chance!

When they finally get up to the roof, Alice and Shane can’t believe how big the sign is.

Alice: This isn’t realistic. This is f—ing insane.

Bette: I know.

Shane: But it’s romantic. It is.

They climb up on the sign, pausing for a photo because Alice has (of course) brought her camera.

Alice: OK. Say, “This is f—ing crazy!”

They get right to work with socket wrenches and a great tune in the background: Mr. Airplane Man’s “Commit a Crime.”

Party preparations – Kit, Papi, Helena and Catherine are getting ready for Tasha’s going-away party, which will be held at Catherine’s beach house. Papi is working the Dyson. Nice of them to make you the cleaning lady, Pops, especially while you’re wearing that shirt that says “Latina.”

Kit is rambling about the “Planet cookies” she’s made. Papi makes her simmer down for a minute.

Papi: [nodding toward Angus] Are you guys back together?

Kit: Papi, I’m really working on getting myself back together first before I can go back with anyone.

Papi: I wish you both happiness.

That’s nice of you, Eva Torres. Could you maybe look up Carmen, since you have to let Kit go?

When I said Catherine was helping them get ready for the party, I couldn’t have been more wrong. She is, in fact, trying to ruin it by making Helena go to another poker game. But this time Helena ain’t playin’. She walks out onto the beach in a huff, accompanied by a variety of pretentious camera angles.

Back at the big sign – They’ve got all the pieces of the sign and are ready to go. On the way out, Alice manages to get her jacket (which is, naturally, camouflage) caught on something. She struggles valiantly to free herself, but Bette has to come to her rescue.

Alice: Go without me! Leave me behind! Save yourselves!

That moment alone made this entire season worthwhile. DeLeishous!

They eventually make it back to the van, where Bette tells Alice and Shane they’re the best friends ever. Right on.

A hotel – Jenny and Sounder are prancing around, looking for Kate. They find her at a poolside table. Jenny apologizes for her behavior at the meeting; she explains that she just felt threatened by Tina. But she soon changes her mind about making peace, because her nemesis shows up.

Stacey Merkin: I hear the book is riveting, Jenny. Can’t wait to read it.

Jenny: Merkin?!

Merkin offers a little summary of the Lindsay fiasco; she says Jenny destroyed Lindsay and killed a dog. Jenny denies that last part, of course; she calls it a very bad mistake.

Kate: Do you, like, prey on people whose lives are already falling apart, or do you actually take a more aggressive role in creating their grief and destruction?

Merkin: That’s such a good question. I mean, in Jenny’s world, does art imitate life? Does life imitate art?

They say they’ve heard she destroyed Marina too. OK, OK. You two aren’t wrong about Jenny’s wrong-headed, self-serving shenanigans. But Kate? You scare me. You seem to have no soul, and you seem pretty excited about the prospect of destroying Jenny’s life just like she’s destroyed others’. Maybe it’s just your eyeliner; it screams “evil.”

Kate: I can’t wait to tell you what I’m going to do with the character of Jessie in my adaptation of Lez Girls.

Jenny can only stare. Sounder, by the way, is cute – almost too cute. Poor pup. What horrible fate awaits you?

Leavin’ on a jet plane – Now that Bette has the sign, there’s only one thing to do: Deliver it to Jodi. She’s pacing around her house, making the final arrangements and waiting for her cab. Tina is there too, helping her prepare.

They’re interrupted by a seemingly distraught Phyllis. She says Joyce Wischnia is refusing to represent her because of a conflict of interest. Bette doesn’t know what that could possibly mean.

Joyce: [appearing from nowhere] It would have been a conflict because the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I wanted to jump her lovely bones.

Yeah! As the two lovebirds waltz off into the sunset, Bette and Tina look at each other and say, in stereo, “That was surreal.” Maybe, but it was also fantastic!

Tina reminds Bette to defer, yield and bow to Jodi in every way. As Bette leaves, she and Tina share another awkward kiss – only Tina almost goes for this one. She sort of starts to kiss back, then pulls away. Yikes. After Bette leaves, Tina just smiles slightly to herself.

Are we really supposed to wait until next season to get this thing settled?!

Seeing the future – Paige and Shane are getting ready for Tasha’s party. Shane scans the classifieds while she brushes her teeth. She says she has found a house that looks good, but maybe Paige and Jared should take it.

Shane: Maybe we should talk about, um, maybe taking it together.

Paige rewards Shane with some hot sex. Like, really hot, nipple-ring-showing, grunting-and-sweating sort of sex. The only trouble is, it’s intercut with some scenes of what the future might look like. We see Shane and Paige as a 1950s couple – Shane is the dad with the tie and the specs; Paige is the mom with the rollers in her hair; and of course they have two kids, Shay and Jared. They are dazzlingly normal with their morning orange juice, their push mower, their apple pie and their happy sons.

It almost feels like an entire short film inserted into the episode, but OK, point made: These two aren’t sure they want the American Dream.

Afterward, Shane reaches for a cigarette while Paige seems to wonder what she’s getting into. They look like they’re posing for the cover of a pulp novel:

I Was a Suburban Dyke!

I’d swap places with her if I could – Alice is sprawled on her couch. She’s moping. She says “F— you, Tasha.” A voice from somewhere says, “Well, f— you, too.”

And then Dana appears in the doorway to the kitchen, swilling Pepsi and stomping on my heart.

There is no circumstance under which this would be OK with me. Don’t bring her back: She’s dead. Remember when you killed her off so senselessly, Mama Chaiken? And now you’re taunting us with it. Seeing her again just makes me angry all over again, and I think Alice agrees with me.

Dana tries to convince Alice to go to the party. She offers some platitudes about how it’s no less painful to lose someone to a misunderstanding than it is to lose them to a heart attack.

Dana: Anyway, don’t argue with my superior wisdom, OK? Go get dressed! Go on. I wanna see you in that f—in’ party dress.

Alice: Ugh. God. You really curse a lot more now.

Dana: [flopping back onto the couch after Alice leaves the room] Yeah, well, you’d curse a lot too.

I don’t know if that was Dana or Erin offering up the last line. But I know I’ll be swearing if she shows up again in Season 5. Alice doesn’t need a friendly ghost hanging around to give her advice; this is not Slings and Arrows or Dead Like Me or Six Feet Under, and nobody expects it to be. Let the woman rest in peace!

Tasha’s going-away party – Everybody’s getting mellow on the beach. And by “getting mellow,” I mean ambling around, not really talking, just sort of aimlessly wandering by the sea. It’s like a lesbian Wuthering Heights, only it’s missing all the thrill and romance. What’s left? Brooding.

Shane says hi to Jenny and gets an earful:

Jenny: They fired me from the movie.

Shane: Shut up.

Jenny: Yeah, they did. I think I’ve been judged a lot. And, I dunno, people here just think that I’m, like, this pariah.

Shane: You’re not a pariah. You know that.

Are you sure, Shane?

Toshi, the street musician from the opening scene, is there. Apparently Kit knows her, so I guess she’s the Porter family oracle, rather than Bette’s personal musical guide. As Toshi sings (still that same ungrammatical song), Angus plays the bongos. Yes, that’s right: Angus plays the bongos. I guess I was wrong when I thought nothing could annoy me more than a Pepsi-sipping drive-by from dead Dana.

There’s one funny moment, though. When Kit introduces Toshi to Tasha, it’s like that Oprah-Uma moment when David Letterman hosted the Oscars.

Oh, there are two funny moments: Jenny stares into the sunset, cuddling her new pup. It looks like some sort of late-night commercial.

Imagine the voice-over: “Do you sometimes feel like you just don’t fit in? Do you wonder what your purpose is? Do you need a special furry friend to show you how to love again? Call 1-800-DOG-USER today and open your heart to a four-footed pal. Cute veterinarian operators are standing by.”

Yet another bet – Catherine finds Helena and asks if she’s having a good time. She is, as it happens. Catherine still can’t do anything but gamble: She wants to wager on Paige and Shane’s chances of success as a couple.

They go inside the house, where Catherine gets some cash out of the safe while continuing to make her wager. If Shane and Paige break up, Helena gets a cool million. If Shane and Paige last, Catherine wins, and Helena has to be her servant and sex slave for a year. And that would be different how, exactly?

Helena: [as Catherine leaves] Have a great poker game. [after Catherine is out of earshot] Go f— yourself.

The triangle – Tina and Kate hold hands as they walk along the beach. They might as well be walking 10 feet apart – these two have zero chemistry. And just to prove that, Tina’s cell phone buzzes: It’s Bette.

Bette: Just tell me what to say when I give her the sign.

Tina: OK. Um … “I never should have let you go. I would do anything for another chance. I’m not afraid to make a fool out of myself.”

Kate, of course, thinks Tina is telling Bette how she feels. I think maybe she sorta is. I’m not sure whether Bette knows it, though, but I do know her eyes are shining.

Plot points – Inside the house, Helena opens the safe and takes all the cash. I’m sure Catherine owes her at least that much, but somehow I doubt she’ll see it that way. Run, Helena, run!

And it seems Jenny does indeed need her furry friend; she takes Sounder out in a boat because nobody else wants to go with her. “It’s just you and the pariah, Sounder.” Poor Jenny.

Alice arrives at the party, looking sweet and trying to smile even though she has to say goodbye. Tasha gives her a serious look that seems to communicate how important it is to her to say goodbye to Alice properly.

She should have named him Lassie – Suddenly the party gets a little life: Sounder starts barking at Shane. Look at that little dog hop and yip! That’s the perfect pup for Jenny; he’s a whiny drama queen just like she is. But oh, whatever can the yipping mean?

Shane: Sounder? What are you doing? Were you getting bored at the party? Where’s your mother?

Say it, Shane! You know you want to. “What’s that, girl? Did Jenny fall in the well?” And that turns out to be true – almost. Jenny has drifted out to sea. She seems to be alone on the open water, calmly awaiting the sharks (or maybe the manatees), but with my luck, she’s probably about four feet from shore.

A sign of her affection – Bette is delivering the sign to Jodi. This time her mode of transport is not a van; it’s a tractor. Farmer Porter, your grand gesture is pretty awesome.

Jodi is amazed. She tells Bette, “You’d better not break my heart.” They embrace and kiss to the strains of Pink’s “Dear Mr. President,” which makes absolutely no sense to me. Maybe a little Joan Armatrading would have been in order? Or, I don’t know, Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes?” It worked for Lloyd Dobler.

Let’s take a moment to acknowledge, not to mention mock, something. Remember when Bette said she and her first love liked to talk about semiotics? Well, what are we to make of this giant sign and the way Bette has dismantled, moved and reassembled it, as if she wants her signifiers to match Jodi’s signifieds and will do everything she can to communicate with her? Yeah, there’s no way this show is that deep, but I bet we’re supposed to be impressed. Roland Barthes, Julia Kristeva and Ilene Chaiken: masters of semiology and social psychology. Ugh.

Back at the beach – Tasha and Alice hold each other. I guess this is what’s left of the party; everyone else must be searching for Jenny, but these two have their priorities right. Good luck, Tasha. You’ll be missed. Oh, and now the Pink song makes sense.

Here’s to a great – or at least better-than-the-last-one – season. Hasta luego!

Hear more of Scribe Grrrl’s thoughts on the episode in her weekly podcast Talking to Manatees. Find multiple download options available here, or subscribe through iTunes.

Lesbian Apparel and Accessories Gay All Day sweatshirt -- AE exclusive

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Back to top button