So many things are happening in Port Charles right now. Not amazingly good, mind. Just amazing in the sense that several times while powering through the pain of seven consecutive episodes yesterday afternoon (on the first day of my vacation, no less. You’re welcome) I found myself saying out loud: “Did that really just happen?”
Like… did Abby really just get crushed to death in an off-screen crane accident? (Yes. Yes, she did.) (Amazing!) Possibly the only thing more random and hilarious would have been death by falling piano, but you can’t have everything, I suppose.
Farewell, Abby. We hardly knew ye, you former prostitute (turned stripper) (turned rape counselor) (turned paralegal) (turned road kill). Mostly because you were boring. But still. You probably deserved better than this crap.
Michael, of course, has wasted absolutely zero time making this all about him (he is, if nothing else, his father and mother’s son). Luckily, he’s got Sam’s initiation into the “I Was Raped By Franco, Ask Me How!” club to distract him from his dead girlfriend woes! You know, just in case the whole thing was getting a little too uplifting for you.
And on that note: Robin Scorpio is dying! And she’s kind of gone insane? I don’t know how else to explain her sudden belief that it would somehow be easier on her family if she just disappeared without a trace to go die alone rather than explain what’s happening to them and allow them to grieve with and support her.
Of course, as everyone must when tragedy strikes in PC, she made a pilgrimage to the Holy Hit Man in his interrogation room audience chamber for advice. (I love how they had her justify this by saying she “arranged” it with Mac — as if everyone and their mother doesn’t barge right in all the time without so much as a by your leave, Carly.) And, of course, she then promptly ignored said advice when it turned out to be “Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you? GO TALK TO YOUR EFFING HUSBAND!”
Credit where credit’s due: they did manage to sneak in a nice moment reminiscing about that night they nearly jumped off their bridge. And my eyes might have gotten a little misty. (Damn you, Steve Burton and Kimberly McCullough!)
But the whole time, I kept waiting for Jason to ask Robin the most obvious question: is she really now claiming that she would have preferred it if Stone had simply disappeared without a word after he first got his diagnosis? Would she really have traded a single second of their time together at the end for anything in the world? Because that WOULD amaze me:
(Of course, the most amazing thing about this story is the simple fact that someone on the writing staff actually remembered that we saw Lisa swap Robin’s pills that one time before the Scorpio homestead burned down last year. Um, thanks? Glad you picked that completely dropped plot line out of all the other ones floating around to pick back up?)
Equally amazing: how absolutely obnoxious both of the show’s new doctors have immediately managed to make themselves. That takes work! I mean, I have long years of baggage to support my Sonny hatred, but for these characters to come in and instantly start inspiring my loathing…? Well, it’s dedication to the cause.
First, there’s Maggie, or as I’m sure you know her: Lisa II, Electric Boogaloo:
She’s arrogant and fiesty in a really socially inappropriate way! She doesn’t follow the ruuuuules, man! But that’s only because she’s a total medical genius! (No PC pediatricians would ever had thought of the groundbreaking lollipop technique.) She also constantly drops cryptic hints to her mysterious, wild past with a male GH doctor! And is weirdly overly concerned with how “lame” and “boring” he’s become with his current significant other!
In other words… she is tedious beyond belief and I cannot believe we’re doing this again, especially so soon after we just got rid of the last incredibly tedious and obviously unbalanced stalker doctor. Die, Maggie. Die in a fire. Post haste.
Meanwhile, Dr. Ewan McHotAbs finally made his first appearance from the waist up last week:
I already resent him more than a little for being a part of this awful “Liz has herself committed to lure back Lucky, the man she’s already married and cheated on twice, because clearly he is the love of her life” story. (And for the sake of my blood pressure, the less said about that, the better.)
But he’s also kind of already the worst doctor I’ve ever seen? I mean, putting aside the fact that he apparently pulled a drowning woman out of the ocean in November and just left her on the beach to die of hypothermia… I’ve never been committed to a mental institution, but isn’t successful therapy supposed to be based on trust? The kind of trust that might be damaged by having your doctor introduce himself by pretending to be a fellow patient in order to spend several days dispensing fortune cookie philosophy and spying on your private conversations?
Seriously, it’s hard for me to say this, but: I think he’s a worse therapist than Lainey. Lainey! Oh, Kevin Collins, wherefore art thou?
Finally, for those keeping track at home, the list of soon to be ex-citizens of Port Charles now includes Nathan Parsons. This actually makes me sadder than I would have expected even just a few months ago. But ever since he cut his hair, and started mouthing off to Luke and bonding nicely with his siblings, I haven’t wanted to stab him quite as much.
Also, am I crazy, or would Ethan make the perfect boy toy to get Alexis out of her Mac rut?
ALEXIS: It just seems weird without Nikolas here. Actually, it’s weird that most of the time I forget I’m even an Cassadine.
ETHAN: Well, you’re the outsider. Doesn’t matter how much people try to pull you in, make you one of them. You can’t fit the square peg in the round hole.
ALEXIS: I’m beginning to understand Kristina’s infatuation. You’re a lot more astute than you want people to realize.
Daaaaaaaaaaaamn. Those are some serious sex eyes right there. Just sayin’.
(But also: HAHAHA. Kidding! They would never let Alexis have any sexytimes that didn’t involve hilarious hot flash humor.)
More seriously, this means that in the space of a few months, we’ll have lost Nikolas, Jax, Kristina, Siobhan, Lucky, Robin, Ethan, and Abby. And I keep hearing rumors that Julie Marie Berman may be out soon as well. At this rate, is there going to be anyone left when the Carlivati cavalry gets here?
Finally, I give you your One Life to Live moment of zen, which was… pretty much ALL of yesterday’s episode of One Life to Live, aka 45 minutes of straight joy-gasm:
THE THREESOME THAT DARE NOT SPEAK ITS NAME!
THE REAL DASH DUNNING!
THE SHIRTLESS BROTHERS MAZDA!
IT’S A NON-HEREDITARY CONDITION SHE INHERITED FROM HER MOTHER!
And… good bye, Fraternity Row. (The tears started flowing freely when Roxy grabbed David’s hand on the way out.)
That was kind of an amazing love letter to the entire soap genre. I’m sure there are people who didn’t love it, because the day all soap fans agree on anything will be the day the world ends. (But seriously? How could you love soaps and not love this episode? No, don’t answer that. I’m still in a happy place right now.)
I love that this is a cast and a show that isn’t afraid to laugh at its own ridiculousness, all the while clearly understanding exactly how and why it’s been able to inspire so much love and devotion from generations of fans. I couldn’t have asked for a better or more respectful ode to what makes soaps so unique and special.
So, to borrow a phrase from Serial Drama’s always excellent commentary: thank you, Afternoon Television Program. Thank you for everything.