Because everyone in Port Charles is absolutely miserable! Well, except for Lulu and Dante, who are on top of the world about the baby… that they don’t know has miscarried. Um. So, you know. There’s that.
Not that things are much happier over in Switzerland, where Robert lies in a coma (with Holly at his side!) and Anna is suffering from Duke Mask-PTSD:
SAD FACE? OR THE SADDEST FACE
EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, OMG?
I don’t know that I have the words to deal with Duke’s reaction to Anna flinching away from him in instinctive terror. But it was both wonderful and terrible to witness. Ian Buchanan is already distinguishing himself from Faison-as-Duke in so many subtle ways and watching him is a joy. (Also: Anna! I missed you so much, please never ever leave us alone with Konnie and Johnny again, okay?)
Then, of course, the second most welcome face to reappear on my tv screen finally managed to convince Sam that Jason is really, truly, dead as a doornail DEAD. (Okay, I might have thrown some confetti at that point, but that’s just me. Sorry, Jason! You had your moments, but it turns out the show is roughly EIGHT MILLION TIMES BETTER without you, so… please feel free to stay in Genoa City for a good long while.)
Kelly Monaco and her tear ducts of steel ably ran with this realization, and it was all very moving, my private glee aside:
(Although, then she got McBAIN HUGGED. So, come on, her day couldn’t have been that terrible.)
Also, this totally cracked me up:
SAM: Then she left and I asked Jason to send me sign. And you showed up.
Um, Sam? I know we joke and all, but you do understand that Jason isn’t actually Jesus, right? Just checking.
Anyway, I feel like clearly enough time has passed that Sam and John can just proceed to making out all the time, right? I mean, her husband’s been dead for at least two months, so that seems reasonable. SHUT UP, I HAVE NEEDS.
But if dead babies, dead husbands, nearly dead ex-husbands, and live husbands that remind you of psychopaths weren’t enough, we also had the sweetest character on the show unknowingly leaning on the boyfriend who recently cheated on her as she learned she’s been paralyzed.
Here’s the thing with this Ellie/Spinelli/Maxie fiasco in the making: the best and worst thing about soaps for me is often their predictability. When you can see something coming a mile away and it’s a thing that’s awesome? The world is beautiful. On the other hand, when it’s a thing you don’t want? Well… then you get Maxie obviously about to be pregnant with Spinelli’s effing baby and trying to pass it off as Lulu and Dante’s while Spinelli “nobly” stays by paralyzed Ellie’s side. You know, just as an example.
All of the above is pretty classically soapy, so it’s not as enraging as this show’s predictability has often been in the past. But wow, am I not looking forward to watching it unfold. I loved the surrogacy story. Its sweetness was welcome after so much darkness, and Maxie badly needed some rehabilitating. Also: lady friendship! And as an extra bonus, it distracted Maxie from Spinelli, and I find their relationship to be the most toxic, uninteresting part of both their characters. Win, win, win.
So, of course what we’re probably going to get is Maxie and Spinelli tied together for life while Maxie does something absolutely terrible to damage her friendship with Lulu. Not to mention the irritation I already feel at just the thought of motherhood for Maxie — one of the few female characters on soaps who I really thought had a chance of remaining happily childless without it being portrayed as a terrible tragedy. So basically: the soapy contrivances preventing both Spinelli and Maxie from coming clean these past few days have been extra excruciating for me and I’m living in fear of the months to come.
Plus, can we talk about Spinelli for a moment? And how — Bradford Anderson’s recent flattering haircut aside — I still hate him with the fiery heat of a thousand suns? I mean, first, he commits himself to Ellie while clearly having feelings for another woman. Then, when Ellie has enough self-respect to try to extricate herself from this situation, he talks her into a ridiculously ill-fated Affair to Remember scheme with the express purpose of allowing either of them to end their relationship with no drama or hard feelings. So, of course, when it appears to him that she has done exactly that — and even though this is the exact scenario in the movie — he promptly assumes the worst, leaves her the most obnoxiously passive aggressive voicemail possible, and sleeps with another woman. And then Ellie is the one who apologizes?
I realize Spinelli was as horrified by that last part as I was, but seriously, writers, if I was Ellie laying in that hospital bed listening to that childish Nice Guy(TM) rant on my voicemail, I would have immediately discovered I was paralyzed when I tried to kick him in the face.