If nothing else, the last week or so has proved what an incredibly easy soap viewer I am. (Not that there was really any doubt, but still…) Because even after all the virtual ink I’ve spilled lately bitching about the sad state of the Spencers, all it took was a couple of much needed apologies to have me sniffling like a baby.
First up: Ethan!
ETHAN: I realize I’ve been more than a little judgmental where you and Lucky are concerned. Basically, I’ve been an ass. In total violation of my principles.
ELIZABETH: You have principles?
ETHAN: Yes, I do. Live and let live. So I have no right to comment or even criticize your relationship with Lucky. I am truly sorry.
ELIZABETH: Oh, well I accept your apology. However, most of what you said was valid.
ETHAN: Not the way I said it, though. Look, I wasn’t here for what you and Lucky went through, for most of it. And when I showed up late to the party I just started running my mouth, so…
Wow. Um.. has Ethan been reading the blog? Because that was pretty word for word what I wanted to hear from him. First, he offers to come play fun uncle with Cam, and then he sincerely apologizes for acting like the world’s foremost expert on all things LL2, and then–then! He admits that he hasn’t gotten to know Elizabeth very well and she might actually be more fun than he thought. (Can these two be besties now? I would really like to see more friendships on this show.)
I would also like for Ethan to be involved in anything other than Cassandra. Who is apparently an amnesiac ASSASSIN now, because sure, of course, why not? (What I want to know is: does she kill people by trapping and talking at them in pretentious, dead-eyed monologues until they off themselves out of desperation to escape the droning horror? Whatever, I can’t even deal with the stupidity of that right now. Expect more of a rant later. FREE HELENA!)
Now, if only Ethan could have a similar revelation about his lack of understanding, re: Luke and Laura, we’d be golden.
Speaking of Luke, he and Lulu finally had the confrontation they should have had the second he got back to town:
LUKE: Now I’m back and I’m sober. And I’m concerned about you.
LUKE: Because I have been too absent in your life. I don’t know what’s going on with you. And I do love you. [Ed note: *sob*}
LULU: I was so determined to find a way to make you come back home.
LUKE: I just wasn’t ready to come back, sweetheart.
LULU: Looking for you became my entire life, and it was more important than the man that I love.
LUKE: [looking gobsmacked] Well, that’s terrible. That should not have happened. I’m–I’m so sorry.
LULU: Once I stopped looking for you, I had to look at myself. And that scares the hell out of me. I don’t know. I think that’s why I started drinking. Because I’m afraid of what I might find.
I mean, sure: in my dream conversation, Lulu would have been a wee bit more upset about being sexually assaulted and pretty much causing a woman’s murder than about taking Dante for granted for a few weeks, but whatever. At least she got an apology. And with any luck this breakthrough will be the last we’ll hear of her sudden one-glass-a-day alcohol “problem.” (Seriously, Olivia? On behalf of single people everywhere who occasionally enjoy a glass of wine by ourselves with lunch: go fuck yourself.)
Of course, then they had to tarnish the goodness a bit with some more nonsense about how Laura became “fragile” due to “a life of instability.” Like, unless that’s code for “repressed memories of childhood trauma surfacing, leading to the accidental death of her estranged step-father” I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING HEAR IT, SHOW.
Also, there was this, which made me pause from tearily blowing my nose to yell at the screen:
LULU: I’ve missed you.
LUKE:I missed you too, baby girl.
LULU: You shouldn’t stay away from me because you’re afraid you’re going to hurt me. Because like it or not, you are my dad.
LUKE: Hey, whoever said I didn’t love being your father…
ME: YOU! YOU ARE THE ONE WHO SAID THAT! MANY, MANY TIMES!
Anyway. The point is it was mostly a good set of scenes, and Luke was not a complete jackass for the first time in at least a year, and I cried a lot, probably because I have issues. But seriously — if the new writing team can continue along this line and avoid backsliding into “Luke hates his children and Laura was a whiny dishrag who ruined his life” I may just some day be able to look at his face again without wanting to hit it with a hammer.
Maybe. (No promises.)
And then! As if all that non-suckage with the Spencers wasn’t enough, the show made a funny! Like, on purpose and everything!
MATT: Can I just ask you to do me a favor?
ELIZABETH: I am not stepping in with Maxie if you die.
Ahahahaha! I’m sorry, but Rebecca Herbst’s delivery on that was perfect. Even Matt couldn’t keep a straight face. (Have I mentioned that I still want these two to make out quite badly? Oh, you two. JUST MAKE OUT, ALREADY.)
Especially since their alternative make out partners are both so terrible. I mean, if Spixie, Part II: Electric Boogaloo is an inevitable hell into which we will all soon be thrust, is it too much to ask that Matt be with a woman who seems to actually like him? And maybe Elizabeth could have a relationship with someone who doesn’t kill people for a living or won’t abandon her to raise his children while he goes off to commune with magic stones? JUST A THOUGHT.
(Also, I really need Ewen to be the one attacking the dancers. Unfortunately, the show’s now dropped so many anvils pointing to him as the guy that I’m almost certain he’s just a red herring, but come on now. If they try and hook him up with Liz by presenting him as just a non-stripper beating, genuinely nice, misunderstood guy who happens to regularly engage in incredibly inappropriate, uber-controlling behavior with his female patients, and who basically left her on the beach to die of hypothermia, then… I will throw something at my screen and write an angry blog post about it. Consider yourselves warned.)
Meanwhile: elsewhere, Alexis’ “hilarious” hot flashes finally led to someone saying the dreaded “M” word, leading to another actually on purpose funny:
DIANE: Hey, this frees you up to sleep with Sonny again.
ALEXIS: Are you on crack?
DIANE: Even the mighty warriors of Sonny Corinthos could not impregnate you!
ALEXIS: [thoughtful] Yeah, they probably could.
DIANE: [depressed] Actually, they probably could.
Gross! But true! Oh, ladies. When will you realize you should just give up on men completely and sink into the Sapphic bliss you so richly deserve? It’s legal now in New York and everything!
(Side note: I don’t understand the insistence on periodically pushing Mac and Alexis as a couple without ever really going anywhere with it. Dear writers: it’s been years now. Shit or get off the pot. But really, just get off the pot. They have zero chemistry together and Alexis really needs a hot young stud in her bed after this long drought. Or Diane. I’m not picky! Just not Mac.)
So, if those were the only scenes I watched in the last seven days, then I might be tempted to think this show wasn’t still The Worst. But, no: I also tuned into Kate’s big, overwrought confession/tantrum (complete with tears and foot stamping!) of her TERRIBLE SECRET… that she’s been seeing a therapist.
Yeah. That happened.
Of course, she had to keep this shameful secret because no one in the fashion industry needs therapy (like, I am so sure) and if her loyal readers knew, they’d never be able to trust her judgment on which belt to wear again, and blah blah blah. (Just like they’d never be able to take her seriously if they knew she’d grown up as Connie Falconeri… except for how everyone knows that now and it didn’t make a damn bit of difference? This effing, effing show.)
I know that clearly something else — no doubt even stupider — is going on with Kate right now. But I’m kind of hoping she actually is in therapy, because after being shot twice because of Sonny and then pretty much immediately abandoned by him while he married two other women in the space of as many years, the very fact that she’s even considering jumping back into a relationship with him right now points to some serious self-hatred. She might want to look at that, you know?
(She also might want to look at her tacky, tacky roots. Oh, Megan Ward’s world changing perfect hair, wherefore art thou?)
And finally, this just in: Sam’s not pregnant with Franco’s baby after all! (I was shocked, y’all. SHOCKED!) Which Kelly — because she is still terrible — revealed in the most roundabout, insensitive way possible.
But most importantly, what this means is that clearly Sam’s trauma over having been maybe raped and definitely violated by a psychopath is completely over now. BECAUSE THAT’S HOW RAPE WORKS.
I’m actually kind of speechless that this is apparently how they’re going to play this. I mean, it’s not like this show has a stellar record with sexual assault to begin with, but still… “You don’t ever need to think about that night again,” Jason? Really? Because obviously the only traumatic part of being drugged, touched naked and possibly raped by a man you thought was your husband is whether or not the resulting baby is your husband’s. (I’m going to defer to Louise over at Serial Drama here because clearly I need a refresher on how trauma actually works.)
In conclusion: this show is still ass and Ron Carlivati’s material can’t start soon enough. (Next week? Maybe? Cross your fingers!)