TV Report Card: the "Smash" Pilot

Smash is finally here!  After what feels like months on end of buzz about a new musical television show, we are finally treated to the pilot - on free preview, no less!  (Watch on YouTube here - it's available until February 6th.)  The network, the critics, the internet: everyone seems to want you to watch Smash.

And, I must say, I think I will!  Overall, the pilot was fresh and unique, with interesting conflicts to mine and character relationships I'm looking forward to seeing as they develop every week.

It begins, naturally, with a song: Katharine McPhee, as the protagonist Karen, takes on "Over the Rainbow" before a dreamy starlit background, with a matching twinkle in her eye.  Turns out she's just at a dreary audition, and a cell phone ring yanks us from the reverie and back to cold reality.  Karen is dismissed.  It's a charming hook to start the whole show, and if anything I'd say they could actually put more weight behind this construct.  I wanted to indulge in the fantasy a little more, to see Karen close up and really get a sense of her talent before we were slammed with reality.  This is our main character!  Introduce her like she's the star!

Nevertheless, we start out with a wannabe Broadway star.  Then, we meet two Broadway producers who want to make a show.  Aha!  Julia and Tom are pitch-perfect partners, who have a successful career on Broadway - but who are also taking a break so that Julia can focus on her growing family.  (She's looking to adopt.)  But a seed is planted in their head by Tom's new assistant Ellis - why not do a musical about Marilyn Monroe?  

And, here's our show.  This season of Smash will be treating us to the process of putting on a Broadway musical, from concept to curtain.  As such, I wanted a little more magic in the birth of the idea.  The pilot strung everything together like it was almost mundane - the random assistant sees a book, gives the idea, and then all of the creative process happens quickly and offscreen.  Next thing we know, Tom's written songs and they're recording demos!  

Truthfully, for me, I love that Smash is a show driven by the process.  We are being witness to the creative process, to the development of something larger than these characters, that most people watching at home couldn't even fathom putting together - and dammit, I actually want to witness that!  The pilot missed an opportunity to assemble these character's participation in the process as something more than just business decisions.  And it's all there - the original numbers being penned for this vehicle are phenomenal, both by song and dance perspective, which indicates that everyone involved is massively talented and therefore extremely winsome.  There's magic in the making, but the pilot didn't quite make the most of it.

For instance, we got a chance to see Ivy Lynn, an underappreciated Broadway performer and Tom's top choice for Marilyn, sing the musical's demo online, where Karen found it and sang along.  But these two scenes were independent of one another, where they could have been cross-cut to visually suggest these two's impending competition.  Not only that, but we saw no part of the creation of the song, or Tom and Julia's active creative participation in the project.  We were given a glimpse into the debate of original musicals (like Marilyn) versus revivals (like My Fair Lady) and how the former is definitely a risk - but commentary on that wasn't present beyond a few throwaway lines.  And ultimately, I still can't quite get past the fact that the Marilyn idea came from the writers planting a book on the coffee table and having a character say, "Oh, look at that."  I get that Broadway's a business and a workplace just like anyplace else, and amping up the fanciful aspects too much could get overblown and exhausting, however - I think a teeny tiny step in that direction could put a little more wind in Smash's sails.

The character work, so far, is solid.  Katharine McPhee, somewhat surprisingly, is just as beguiling in her non-musical scenes as she is under the spotlight.  While I think that's certainly a compliment to her ability to make staid scenes charming without being cloying, I also wonder if the show is trying too hard to make Karen the underdog.  Intellectually, I understand that she's special, because she's not like everyone else who auditioned for Marilyn.  But at the same time, it's hard not to want Ivy to land the role of Marilyn simply because we've watched her earn it, onscreen.  "Beautiful" is supposedly the moment that we sit up and take note of Karen, but I'm not quite buying it yet.  

I get that this is a girl from Iowa, who appears to be a bit naive about what to expect when a producer calls you to his apartment late at night.  And I don't doubt that part of Karen's character arc will be about toughening up and coming into her own.  I just want to see stronger hints that she's had it in her all along, that's all.  The scene with Derek in his apartment was incredibly difficult for me to read because I couldn't figure out if he was indeed propositioning her, and how aware of that she was - until she made it clear at scene's end.  Either make it apparent to the audience what each character's stance is in at every point in that scene, or really play up the cat-and-mouse aspect and pair it with a reveal, to raise questions about Derek, and then root for Karen.  

I'm curious as well to see what the writers are going to do with Julia.  Firstly, I must say that I am loving Debra Messing in this role.  She's not without personality, but her part in the narrative is not to be a certain "type" of character, which often happens to female roles.  They shuffle into the story under a label, and that's their shtick until the writers get around to dimensionalizing them.  I like that Julia is not that.  She is kind of an Everywoman, but without falling into the traps that make a lot of female characters stereotypes or cliches (and not Everywomans, at least not in the same way that there is an Everyman).

That being said, I'm not sure what the writers want me to feel about Julia's family.  Because every scene with her husband in the pilot made me want to punch the guy in the face.  Forget Ivy or Derek, the real antagonist in this show is the man who says, "I hate the theater, I really do."  Julia's husband Frank is in turns grumpy, guilt-throwing, patronizing, and borderline unsupportive of Julia's work - and I can't figure if he's supposed to be so unlikeable, or if the writing and direction just laid it on a little too thick to emphasize that there will be growing conflict for Julia between her home life and her work.  Only time will tell.

Of course, I'm also already prepping myself for the Tom and Derek antagonism to materialize fully (consider me curious as to why Tom hates him so much) as well as the competition between Ivy and Karen for the part of Marilyn.  I'm unsure what to make of that second one, because while it is refreshing to see a thus-far bitch-fight-free lady competition, I'm not entirely clear on what the writers want me to be feeling for each character.  At this point, I'm firmly Team Ivy, and crossing my fingers that Smash gets renewed another season so that Karen can take the lead in their next endeavor.

In all, though, caring about these characters and the future of their relationships and happiness is a sign that Smash delivered a solid pilot.  While there are certainly some aspects of their show that could be tweaked to be even stronger yet, there's a lot of potential here for good drama, interesting character development, and a damn spectacular musical number.  I'll be watching.

The Report Card:
Dialogue: B

Plot: B

Character: A

Musical Numbers: A
Episode MVP: Ivy

The RBI Report: "Michael"

Well, it's finally happened.

Glee did MJ.

And it was just okay.

"Michael," written by Ryan Murphy, directed by Alfonzo Gómez-Rejón

The first problem to overcome is the easiest to identify: how, how, do you do justice to Michael Jackson?  Glee had a few issues in this area.  It's not so much the singing I'm fussing over.  All those kids can hit a note, and Glee chose from a wide range in MJ's discography.  It's not so much the song choices as the song placements, and how the narrative chose to incorporate Michael.  The tribute, in terms of story, fell far below the Madonna, Fleetwood Mac, and even Britney service.

Turns out the Dalton Academy Warblers, not unlike gum on your shoe, keep coming around under the slimy leadership of Sebastian, and have stolen the New Directions' Michael Jackson theme for Regionals.  And, naturally, in a situation, you have to ask yourself: what would Michael Jackson do?  Apparently, he'd fight back.  I would've thought that to be a general human reaction, not necessarily specific to MJ, but hey.  If you say so, Finn.  (While we're on the topic, can I please say how much I've grown to loathe group scenes that generally amount to the whole gang in some sort of distress or excitement that is immediately pacified when Finn delivers a weird leadership speech?  The writers are trying too hard.  And it's only made worse when Will swoops in, perfectly timed, to affirm the message with a Expo-marker scrawl across the white board.)

So, New Directions decided to take the streets... or a parking garage, as it were, to have a Jackson-Off featuring "Bad."  It was honestly not all that intimidating from either side, even with our kids' leather jackets, and it'd be altogether forgettable if it weren't (ice-)capped by the episode's emotional impetus: poor Blaine took a Slushie in the face trying defend Kurt.  And not just any Slushie.  A Slushie with glass or rocks in it, or something.  I confess, I was wondering why Blaine was howling on the ground when most other kids seem to stick to stunned silence.  His eye received a bad cut, and he had to get surgery.

Okay, upon physical injury, this is where we're supposed to start taking Sebastian seriously as a villain.  But that requires me to take Blaine's martyrdom completely seriously.  It's not that I don't care about Blaine.  I like the guy.  It's just that I don't care one iota about the Warblers now that he's not with them, and I have no emotional investment in any torn loyalties Blaine may be having.  It's not good conflict.  And I like the conflict even less when Sebastian has a pointless crush on Blaine that manifests in him leaving a slime trail after every conversation he has with Kurt.  I guess sexual villainy is just not my thing.  

Maybe the sting of a Slushie just means nothing to me anymore.  Maybe I have a hard time believing that everyone would leap to Blaine's defense when he's only been in New Directions for a semester, no matter how charming he is.  Maybe I can't take Darren Criss seriously when he's wearing an eyepatch and thoughtfully accepting a serenade by three classmates in what had to be the dumbest ode to friendship this show's ever done.  Or maybe I just don't understand why Santana was previously written as claws-out aggressive when dealing with teammates, but appears to be completely unwilling to go up against Sebastian, someone who the audience would actually want to see her take out. 

Santana's role in the episode was oblique, as she once again was boomeranged (on the Bitchtown Express?) into a plotline she had little business being in.  If I recall correctly, she scoffed at Kurt and Blaine's efforts to support her in "I Kissed a Girl," and while I can understand wanting to take out Sebastian simply for the pleasure of smacking that smirk off his face (especially when he insulted her ethnicity and social standing), I don't get why you'd put Santana in this storyline without any preface or payoff.  Although witnessing her pride for sneaking a tape recorder in her underboob was pretty rewarding.  IT'S CLEVER!  But I'm getting off track.

In sum: there is no container large enough to hold my ever-growing apathy for Sebastian's existence on this show.  

Regardless, the theme that permeated from this A-plot seemed to be the nature of retaliation and whether or not provoked violence was a viable option in fighting aggressors.  Basically, a bullying storyline on largescale.  It's nice Ryan Murphy remembered Kurt has extensive experience in this, and swore repeatedly to take the high road in dealing with Sebastian.  At the same time, it was so much more cathartic and relatable to hear Artie's point of view.  How great was that monologue about how much it sucks to be called a loser?  While we have scant content informing Artie's character, it makes sense that he would struggle with feeling powerless, based not only on his social standing but also his confinement to a wheelchair.  And ultimately it was so nice simply to have a voice providing an alternate point of view that's entirely understandable, even if it's not necessarily the direction the episode's heading.

It would have been even stronger if Artie's dissent manifested into the plot into a real way, instead of simply as motivation for his rage-filled fever "Scream," simply because it would have provided a nuanced conflict between characters we already know and like.  We wouldn't have to rely on Sebastian's overblown and paper-thin antagonism, and could have an interesting discussion about payback.  Instead, we're stuck with Glee's specialties: romantic opposition and competition between clubs, completely with a Very Special Message laid on thick.  My eyes can't roll any further back in my head at this point.

Three characters did get some sort of news about their future last night: Kurt, Rachel, and Quinn all received letters of acceptance from their colleges of choice.  Kurt's came the most simply - with a rewarding appearance from Burt, who simultaneously congratulated Kurt and reminded the audience that Kurt's been through a lot of high school hardship.  Even the hardest of hearts (read: mine) couldn't resist Chris Colfer's teary-eyed face and the father-son bone-crushing hug in celebration of the success.

As for Rachel, she spent "Michael" awaiting her NYADA letter and weighing her "Yes/No" choices.  At episode's beginning, she still hadn't given Finn an answer, and sought guidance from Quinn, who is apparently good at no-bullshit advice.  Turns out Quinn got her acceptance letter from Yale, and upon affirmation that even she, erstwhile Bitch and Teenage Mother, could have a bright future, advised Rachel to put stock in her own dreams.  It was a very dense scene, complete with a follow-up musical number, and it was frankly a lot of information to wade through.

Ultimately, it was ridiculously rewarding to see a Quinn who, while a bit wordy when elaborating her revelations, seems to have recovered from her high school woes, and will be pursuing her future independently and with self-confidence.  That's all I ever really wanted for this character, and while I missed the part where all this appeared to happen (damn you, offscreen emotional epiphanies!) I still welcome it gladly.  Not only that, but Quinn was written to manifest this emotional change in support of Rachel's dreams at a time when Rachel appears to be doubting them.  It's a lovely character interaction that pays off these two's developing relationship and past foil status with a fair measure of finesse.

But it also felt like Quinn Fabray's swan song - thanking every member of the glee club for sticking by her, verbalizing almost every aspect of her character journey, then singing "Never Can Say Goodbye?"  Oof.  I'll prep myself for the goodbye, Quinn.  I cared infinitely more about you than the writers did, so remember me when you head off to Yale.

Of course, Quinn's advice was given to Rachel, who is basically faced with a choice: Finn, or her future.  Let me get this out of the way: this construct is bullshit.  From every angle, it's bullshit.  While presenting a high school couple faced with parting ways in college is perfectly realistic and acceptable, the Finn-and-Rachel romance is twisting that portrayal into something less than stellar.  The writers have explicitly set it up that being with Finn means staying behind in Lima, or at the very least having a future in the doldrums.  Even if Quinn weren't telling Rachel Finn's an anchor (because, sure, it's her opinion) -- we have Rachel herself accepting Finn's proposal with the basic sentiment of "I may not have it all but at least I'll have you."  

Why is this so?!  Rachel has specifically been written as doubtful of her dreams while everyone else's are materializing, which is the exact opposite of the original construct of the character and her peers.  Day one: Rachel Berry had dreams, others did not.  Now?  Rachel Berry's not sure of her dreams, so she'll get married instead.  Why?!  Why does Rachel have to choose between Finn and her dreams?! 

This is a terrible way to write their relationship because it paints the writers in the corner.  Finn is portrayed as desperate about his seemingly dead-end future and proposed to Rachel to preserve this high school happiness.  And now that Rachel's dreams have been affirmed with a NYADA acceptance letter, she's going to take back her decision and become an antagonist to Finn's emotions.  This is not going to be good.  Basically, both characters deserve better than an "I guess I'll settle for you" relationship, and it's shocking that the writers attempt to portray them both as the loves of each others' lives, yet also each others' consolation prizes.

And, speaking of poorly-written relationships, we also got a slight push forward on the Samcedes front - Sam wanted to sing Human Nature with Mercedes, which she refused, but then did anyways.  They sang, then kissed.  We all know I am fully on board with these two in concept, but in execution, the Glee writers can't seem to do anything remotely interesting with the couple.  (Or any couple, really, at this point.)  Boy-girl relationships always seem to be reduced to the Girl having a Boyfriend, and the Boy pushing her, whether aggressively or passively, to date him instead.  Meanwhile, Girl acts doe-eyed because they're Meant to Be and they sing about it.

Truthfully, "Human Nature," while vocally a great cover, did not help out Amber Riley and Chord Overstreet in the slightest.  Their instruction was to sing around each other on stage, without any storyline or emotional context driving them.  How are they supposed to make that work?  They didn't even have a piano to dance around!  Or chairs!  

Truthfully, the staging of musical numbers felt a little lackluster in "Michael," which is unfortunate.  "Smooth Criminal," which should have been a number of aggression, instead was rife with unspent tension because Santana and Sebastian just circled each other.  I wanted them to knock over chairs!  "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" and "Ben" suffered the same lack of contextual allure "Human Nature" did - the characters had little else to do but stand there!  "Scream" escaped pattern thanks to the replication of the music video.  Only "Wanna Be Starting Something" and "Never Can Say Goodbye" exuded any real excitement or interest.  "Bad," as previously mentioned, seemed scattered and lacked flash.  And "Black and White" succeeded mostly in scarring me with the character-to-character morphs.  I don't get it!  This show usually does musical numbers so expertly, and to drop the ball on a Michael episode is even more unexpected.

In the end, "Michael" was rife with unnecessary conflict that bordered on ridiculous, pulling focus away from more interesting characters explorations, and underwhelmed with its relationship drama and musical numbers.  Wacko indeed. 

The RBI Report Card...

Musical Numbers: B-

Dance Numbers: B-

Dialogue: C+

Plot: C

Characterization: A

Episode MVP: Artie Abrams and Quinn Fabray

My Fears For Shiloh: Why the Scrutiny is Sexist, Homophobic, and Harmful

Sometimes I think I don't have enough opinions.  Then I browse the internet for oh, fifteen minutes, and the sheer amount of idiocy I see is enough to get me ranting about something.

Today, it's this article from Autostraddle, which chronicles and comments on the American media's obsession with Shiloh Pitt's tomboy style and the overblown and offensive fear that it's harmful to Shiloh in some way.  Yesterday, Life & Style Magazine published this article that's featured on the front page of the Feb. 6 issue - with the headline "Brad Pitt's Fears for Shiloh."  Let me be clear, right off the bat: it's not Autostraddle I'm ranty at.  It's Life & Style that's getting the major side-eye.

There's several layers of awful at work here, and none of them have to do with the way that Shiloh Pitt dresses or what kind of gender identity she seems to be adopting.  She's a five-year-old kid.  It doesn't matter if she wants to be a boy now, or at any point in her life.  Not my business.  Not the media's business.  And she's completely entitled to any gender identity, as an individual - be it now, or in the future, regardless of what that identity is.

Now, to the points:

Firstly, it's bad enough that gossip magazines are so obsessed with a little kid that they plaster her all over their pages - just because she's born to Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.  The fact that media fascination with celebrity spills over into an exploitation of their children is just ground floor on a tower of Intrusive and Nonsensical Bullshit.  You could stop the argument right there and it'd be enough to loathe the article, the cover story, and the fact that apparently this sells magazines.

But on top of that, we have still a serious pile of feminist issues to sift through.  Why is it that there's so much scrutiny over the way Shiloh dresses?  Putting commentary like this on the covers of magazines only contributes to what so much media says about women: it's important what you look like.  How you dress.  How you present yourself.  How much makeup you wear.  How much you weigh.  If you're smiling, or if you look upset, or angry.  Even when you're five, appearance means everything, and there's less value on what comes out of your mouth.  (Unless it's rude, or rocks the boat, or speaks out against something.  Then you're a bitch who's Way Out of Line.  But that's another rant for another day.)

There's also the rigid expectation of young girls in particular - the "Sugar and Spice, and Everything Nice" effect.  Girls are "supposed to" wear pink.  Girls are "supposed to" have long hair.  Girls are "supposed to" play with dolls.  Life & Style has this philosophy pegged - it even scrawls the chicken-scratched arrow pointing to the change in Shiloh's toys - "from dolls to dinousaurs!"  Because apparently dinosaurs are only to be appreciated by boys.  Somebody should have told me that before I committed every line of dialogue from Jurassic Park to memory.  (I can also tell you that according to that movie, dinosaur eats man, and woman inherits the earth.  Spoiler alert.)

There is no criticism of the way Shiloh's male siblings dress.  (Several comments at the Autostraddle article point out that Maddox and Pax have long, "feminine" hair, and no one's up-in-arms about that.  It's an excellent point.)  Technically, there's not criticism of Shiloh's female siblings either, because they're not "outside the norm."  It's here where we reach an issue of gay rights, visibility, and the messages we're sending about parenting and gender identity.  

Here's the question: what's the big deal if a little girl expresses herself differently than society has deemed "appropriate" for little girls?  To quote the article:

In fact, one onlooker even mistook the adorable little girl for one of the Jolie-Pitt boys. "It was very chaotic," Lynda Stenhouse, who was at the market, tells Life & Style. "She rushed by my section, but I did notice her skinny white legs and the commotion of the boys."

Now, in the new issue of Life & Style, sources reveal that while the proud parents encourage their little girl to be independent, Brad is concerned about the scrutiny to which Shiloh is being subjected.

Firstly, I gather that any chaos that arises when the Jolie-Pitts are at the supermarket has more to do with the fact that the most media-hyped celebrity family is in a public place with the plebeians, and not the result of their daughter's androgyny.

Secondly, that quote actually contributes nothing to the article's argument, and can basically be ignored.

Thirdly, I can't figure out if Life & Style realizes that this alleged "scrutiny" Shiloh is being subjected to comes straight from their own magazine covers.  The headlines associated with this "story" are so ridiculously sensationalized and offensive: 

• "As Angelina cuts Shiloh's hair shorter than ever, Brad breaks down worrying that his little girl will be ridiculed."
• "New evidence that Angelina is forcing Shiloh's obsession with being a boy.  Is she harming her daughter?"
• "Why is Angelina turning Shiloh into a boy?  Is it harming the three-year-old?"

The fact of the matter is that these magazine covers are far more damaging not only to Shiloh but also to all individuals who consider their gender identity to be something other than heteronormative - especially younger people.  I think you'll find that it's not a fluid spectrum of gender expression that's harmful to children, but rather the negative reaction to it that does more damage.  Rejection of difference from adults and lack of positive reinforcement for nonconformity truly has the poisonous affect on young children, and impact from the media, such as Life & Style magazine covers, can perpetuate that attitude easily, quickly, and enduringly.    

It would be plenty regrettable, with the invasion of privacy, the basic feminist issue of expectation and "appropriate behavior," and the offensive suggestion that living beyond the heteronorms is damaging, but sitting atop all this mess is a sneaky sexist cherry: somehow, Angelina Jolie is the one at fault.  Every single one of those headlines specifically blames Jolie's parenting, which has several nasty suggestions.  Firstly and perhaps most innocuous is the assumption that Jolie, in the role of the mother, makes the decisions about what her daughter wears.  

But really, the true offense is that they also suggest that Brad Pitt is somehow being hurt by this.  Jolie is vilified in the scenario, and Pitt is painted as the victim who's just worried about his "little girl."  Jolie becomes the villain to both her partner and child, and the relationship between the father and daughter translates easily to condescending paternalism.  The "Daddy's Little Girl" effect slides effortlessly into the "Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice" effect, even when many fathers enjoy playing sports, or having common interests with their daughters.

In sum, this is a shitshow of offensive insinuations.  And, at the very center, is a five-year-old girl.  Let me give you the takeaway, since Life & Style seems to be neglecting the real conclusions to be reaching here.  Let people express themselves however they choose how, and don't try and shame them for being themselves.  Especially when they're little kids, who are only discovering their identity.  Everyone needs to be told that they're okay, and the worst place to deny that right is on the cover of a nationally-distributed magazine.

If you choose to speak out to Life & Style about the problem, the fine people at Autostraddle have compiled the contact info so that I may copy and paste it here:

The PR people for Life & Style are Lindsay Ferraro (@lindsay_ferraro on Twitter, LFerraro@bauer-usa.com) and Sarah Drabick (sdrabick@bauer-usa.com) and the editor of Life & Style is Dan Wakeford (DWakeford@bauer-usa.com).

 

Emma Pillsbury, Feminism, and the "Yes/No" Proposal

We all know I have serious issues with the near-vacuum of feminism Glee presents on my television every Tuesday.  Recently, the brunt of the sexism has landed on Santana's shoulders, and it bounces casually around Rachel and Quinn and Brittany and Sue with enough frequency to be disconcerting.  But one character that rarely gets talked about, in terms of Lady Treatment, is Emma Pillsbury, McKinley High's guidance counselor, and Glee's resident Will Schuester Love Interest.

Why is this?  Well, firstly, she's an adult, and adults on this show are inherently less interesting.  Where do they fit into the candy-colored universe of earnestly good-intentioned but mistake-making teenagers?  They don't.  And as a sensical voice of reason and mostly competent authority figure, Miss Pillsbury doesn't even stand a chance.  As a side effect of this, Emma's original character arc about self-empowerment and realism has degenerated into an objectification of her actually diagnosed issues for her significant other to “fix,” and an overblown portrayal of a “fairy tale” romance.  She is in the narrative only a Love Interest to Will, and when she has a problem that he, being of Noble Good Intentions, will try to Fix.

It's here where the blow to feminism comes in - in a neatly masqueraded package that takes original intent and twists it into sexism.  “Yes/No,” in particular, presented the idea that Emma wanted to marry Will, which, given the torch she’s carried for him since Day 1, is not out of left field.  They’re supposedly in a happy and healthy relationship now, although we hardly ever see it, and we’re expected to be totally on board with Emma pining for those wedding bells and Will coming through with a White Knight Proposal.  How romantic!

But it’s completely misappropriated.  Emma’s character arc is not just about learning to cope with OCD.  It’s about standing up for what she wants, and becoming a self-possessed and self-assured woman.  Sounds like something to do with feminism, right?  Definitely!  This is a character who, knowing that her Dream Guy was married, willingly hitched herself to Ken Tanaka, a man to whom she had no physical or emotional attraction whatsoever.  She silenced her own wishes, and was completely okay with being miserable for the rest of her life, simply because she wasn’t sure she could do better. 

Fast-forward two seasons, and it’s expected of us to see a character progression from then to now.  Then, Emma was marrying a man she did not love.  Now, she is marrying a man she does love.  Look, progress!  Right?

Wrong.

The problem with that is that Emma made no progress.  Emma did not stand up and say, “William Schuester, I choose you!”  Has she ever?  Will went after her in “Sectionals.”  They both decide to take a break in “Hell-O” because it’s too soon after his divorce, and when she's with Carl, Will's the one to still pursue her.  Then, she doesn’t even break up with Carl!  He breaks up with her, in a gross narrative manifestation of sexism, because he found out she still has feelings for Will.

Where, pray, is Emma Pillsbury’s agency?  Here we are, after an onscreen reunion, and promises from Will to fix Emma and help Emma and love Emma - and Emma has still barely uttered a word.  Even in her speech in “Yes/No,” she tells Will, “This is what you get.”  Emma has so little sense of self, still, that when Will expresses doubts, she tells him that she’s never going to be more than what she is right now, and that has to be enough for him.  In terms of her own development, she may as well still be marrying Ken Tanaka.

Sure, along the way, Emma tries to “take control,” usually of her sexuality, and flops miserably in the process.  She is still disconnected from the concept of choice, and the narrative gets around the sexism of that simply by chalking it up to the Very Real Problem of her OCD, a character trait which was played lightly and/or for comedy for most of Glee’s earliest episodes.  But pairing her inactive participation in her own storylines with her frequent absence from the narrative unless she's interacting with Will, and Glee has created a female character heavily restricted by the irresponsible choices made for her throughout her arc.

Now, in some respects, Emma has shown sporadic signs of being on a character arc of self-empowerment.  There was a time when she started standing up to Principal Figgins (she yelled at him in his office once... although it had to do with Will and the glee kids, but I'll take it!) and we saw some measure of self-possessed qualities in her when dealing with Sue, and occasionally Will - usually through dialogue.  But we don’t have that Emma Pillsbury now, and it doesn’t look like we’re going to get her anytime soon.  This is largely because she is primarily defined in her relationship with Will, which has also been twisted since show’s inception to be less than stellar in the feminist department.

Will and Emma were originally constructed in the White Knight/Princess category.  Hell, in the first episode, Emma steps in gum, and Will cleans it off her shoe for her, on bended knee.  He even calls her Cinderella.  When she runs out on him in “The Power of Madonna,” she leaves behind her shoes, which he polishes and returns to her.  Their dance in “Mash-Up” is nothing short of fairy tale material, and the sentiment lingers over all their early interactions.

In small doses, this is cute.  Feminism is not about denying more traditional expressions of romantic love, but more about saying it's not the only way - and when it comes to storytelling, making sure that the woman has a choice and a sense of her own identity.  In terms of Will and Emma's storytelling, the hints at a knight/princess dynamic add charm to the couple, and give them a little scripted hook to make them interesting and unique.  However, it’s also scripted that Will and Emma need to move away from “fairy tale” in order to make their romance work.  And they know that.  When he came to see her at her botched wedding, it’s clear that they both wanted to be together, but she said, again a voice of reason, “You just broke up with your wife.”  They separate in “Hell-O” because it's still too soon after his divorce.  Every single hint at progress in Will and Emma’s relationship has been associated with deconstructing that White Knight/Princess idealism and putting stock in having a real relationship.

Tying this hand in hand with Emma’s OCD and confidence issues, we have a scenario where, in order for this relationship to work, Emma must realize that she can’t hope for a fairy tale, and that real relationships are messy, and take work.  She has to speak her mind, and be 50% of the partnership.  And she seemed to be on that track, honestly.  Season 1 had her on the basic path, and Season 2's offscreen relationship with Carl seemed to indicate she was happy, and making progress at least on her OCD, if not her confidence.  Only since the breakup with Carl have things seemed to change, possibly due to a) low visibility on handling the Will and Emma since reuniting them - as a result of avoiding the clunky storytelling legwork in making that transition authentic to the audience, and b) giving Will more weight of the relationship’s emotions onscreen anyways.

To speak about "Yes/No" specifically, the logical progression of an Emma Pillsbury on her confidence/realism arc, in a relationship with Will, would find their marriage proposal something that both parties have equal participation in.  Bonus points if Emma herself proposes.  (She’s not the one who has to say “yes” to marriage, after all.  Will, under his mountain of Terri Issues, is the one that has to find a way to say yes being married again.)  Basically, a proposal has to defy Fairy Tale and show that this couple has moved forward.  If you really wanted to hearken back to their whimsical beginnings for the sake of charm, then do something small and simple, connecting Cinderella’s shoes, or have them dress up.  A minor detail, and nothing that completely incapacitates Emma's power of choice.

In other words: don’t have Emma woefully singing the “Wedding Bell Blues” as a girlish fantasy sequence, and don’t have her regress when Will expresses concerns that her parents gave him.  Don't have Will talk to her parents about her without her there to speak her mind.  And don’t have Will Schuester apologize by proposing in an elaborate synchronized-swimming extravaganza where he wears a white silk coat and tails with a satin top hat while walking on water, completely hammering in the illusion that he is both Emma Pillsbury's White Knight and Righteous Savior.  And, for the love of all things, don’t have Emma just sit there while he walks towards her, ring in hand.

It should have been better.  It should have honored their origins, but stayed in keeping with their development together.  And it should have involved Emma’s character arc just as much as Will’s.  Instead, it was an overblown, self-indulgent orgy dedicated to making these two people the White Knight and the Princess, without any indication that they’d earned a realistic relationship of equal parts, over time.  And by choosing to flatten those dimensions at the expense of Emma's character, it pancaked the entire scenario into a charmless display of sexism.

If only Emma chose to propose to Will.  She could have enlisted the help of the glee kids, in a move that would be a far more charming (and less creepy) homage to Will’s devotion to his students.  The episode could have ended with Emma singing “Wedding Bell Blues” as her proposal, with the glee kids providing backup.  I mean, the lyrics in that song are “Marry me, Will.”  How would that not be an actual proposal? 

On a better show, Emma Pillsbury would be a far more realized, three-dimensional character on the screen.  She would not be relegated to Princess territory simply because she has an anxiety disorder and a White Knight to rescue her.  And she could be a strong female character with her own place in her relationship, and her own place in the narrative, and allowed her own character arc propelled by her own choices.

But alas.  She lived happily ever after, and that’s all there is to it.

The RBI Report: "Yes/No"

The Powers that Glee made it far too easy with this episode title: did I like it?  Eh, yes/no.

"Yes/No," written by Brad Falchuk, directed by Eric Stoltz.

"Yes/No" piled on the romance drama, and as with Glee, it can be incredibly poignant and heartwrenching, or it can trigger your gag reflex by trying to force the syrup and the spoon down your throat.  Let's take a tour of the couples, shall we?

Sam and Mercedes
The whole shebang kicked off with a shot-for-shot recreation of Grease's "Summer Nights," Danny-ed by Sam and Sandy-ed by Mercedes.  Apparently these two had a rather steamy summer together, but chalked it up to fling status when Sam moved away.  Now that Chord Overstreet got his schedule sorted out, Sam's back, and has his sights set on making Mercedes his.  The problem?  She's got a boyfriend in Shane, a poor dude who Glee has bothered to do nothing with except make him the whole impetus for Mercedes' actions in "Asian F," and who will now simply be the romantic opposition no one is rooting for.  (Sorry, Shane.  Looks like you won't be around for much longer.)

The Sam/Mercedes development in this episode was good, simply in that it began, really and truly!  The show took a sticky situation with Sam's departure-then-return and sculpted the halted Samcedes romance into a fling that now has the chance to become something more.  How great was "Summer Nights?"  It's made even better by the fact that Glee is transposing the context of Grease to a more modern and compelling circumstance - it's not often that the girl most frequently saddled with Sassy Black Girl stereotypes is allowed a romance with the Dorky White Football Hunk.  For Mercedes, who has never been shown to be in any real relationship - especially physical - to have the genuine affections of a jock type is a Really Big Deal.  It's even nicer yet that Mercedes isn't moon-eyed and shocked that "a guy like him" could really be into her, which was a very real possibility based on Mercedes' previous portrayals with regards to the opposite sex.

However, I'm not sure Glee made entirely good on the promise that Sam and Mercedes held with their more-than-charming musical number opening.  For one, "Summer Nights," by design, features the two lovebirds individually.  Secondly, the writing veered dangerously into the tropes that this show always uses when trying to put two characters together:

• Sam tries to peacock to win affections, and wants a letterman jacket to impress Mercedes (and joins the synchronized swimming team, which, turns out, is Not Cool)
• Sam gets slushied for being on aforementioned swimming team and therefore Not Cool, and Mercedes compassionately cleans the frozen ice from his face
• Mercedes sings a romantic song and we see that she's really thinking about Sam
• Mercedes has a boyfriend and this therefore becomes a Love Triangle

These things have all been done before with multiple couples, and I wish that Glee could break out of the box and find what's interesting about these kids as individuals and let them bond based on that.  Wouldn't it have been nice to have a scene where Sam and Mercedes demonstrate some of the happy interactions they seemed to have had all summer long?  We heard about that night at the carnival, but for present-day we're just given the Love Triangle and expected to go along with it.  If there's one pet peeve I have about writing for pairs, it's when two characters are meant to be liked simply because they say, "Hey, remember that great time we had that one time?" and we're supposed to be right there with them purely because they say so.  Show, don't tell!  Give me chemistry!  Give me meaningful interactions!  Give me musical numbers where both parties are in the same space, please!

Artie and Becky
Oh, this storyline causes me conflict.  Becky immediately came on the scene, complete with random Helen Mirren voiceover (hey, in your mind you can sound like whoever you want) and declared that she's hot for Artie.  It's clear from the start that the show is completely aware of the fact that they are potentially pairing off their Boy in Wheelchair and Girl with Down's Syndrome, and I braced myself for what was either going to be a trainwreck, or at the very least, completely heartbreaking.  Glee has already paired off the two Asian characters and marginalized them, and I was worried that they would do the same thing with Becky and Artie - especially since part of Artie's appeal to Becky was that he was "handicapable," like her.  Not only that, but Artie was rejected by Sugar, in a scene that seemed pretty unnecessary, because it only drew attention to the fact that Sugar was scared of what people might think about her arms if she was with Artie.  (Um, okay?)

The refreshing part of this storyline came when Artie not only agreed to go on a date with Becky, but seemed to enjoy it!  How great was it when his classmates staged a "Beckyvention," and Artie scolded them for automatically thinking that he wouldn't like Becky.  "Oh!" I thought.  "This is how they're going to get around messy issues!  Artie will like her for who she is!"  If Artie actually liked her and their romance became a real storyline, then it takes some of the side-eye away from pairing off the two handicapped characters and becomes a story about two characters who have a relationship and can be seen for their qualities as opposed to their "labels."  

But then it took a turn for the disheartening, with Artie admitting to Coach Sylvester that he only wanted to be Becky's friend.  She advised him to treat her like a normal human being (good advice) and tell her up front, which he did.  Upon doing so, Becky asked him if it's because he finds her intimidating, and he agreed that that was the reason.  And then the most heart-shattering thing happened: we got the return of Becky's voiceover.  The voice of Helen Mirren, which was once used as a silly kook for this self-confident and sunshiney character, became completely and utterly serious, as she explained to us that she didn't ask if it was because she had Down's because she knew the answer was yes.  I thought the earth was going to open up and swallow me whole, that's how awful I felt in that moment.  That is damn effective, I must say.  

But still, I go around and around on this storyline.  On the one hand, it allowed Becky to be her own character, with a full range of emotions, and a complete awareness of her situation, beneath the bravado.  On the other hand, it'd be so much nicer to see Becky find a guy who likes her for her and actually wants to be with her, and it'd be even nicer if that guy was not necessarily "handicapable" in any way.  Is that realistic?  I'd like to think so.  But honestly, I don't even know if it's acceptable to say that both Artie and Becky are comparably handicapped, considering their differing situations.  It seems like a messy situation to introduce.  Truthfully, friends, I don't have any answers here, and I'm not sure Glee navigated this territory with as much grace as possible.  But I can tell you that I felt like my heart was going to drop out of my chest when Helen Mirren came 'round for the final voiceover, and I was immensely relieved that Becky had Sue to console her with a carton of ice cream.

Will and Emma
Will Schuester provided the whole impetus for the episode, as he decided to make his personal life a class assignment and solicit ideas for a proposal from his students.  This was mostly harmless, and frankly provided something of a weak framework for the whole episode.  The songs that were sung (excepting "Summer Nights" and "Wedding Bell Blues") were done so for the purpose of a possible reproduction by Will, and therefore didn't pack as much of a punch as I would have liked.  I miss the days when Glee's musical numbers came in the wake of some sort of emotional moment for a character, and not simply because the episode's conceit requires them to do so.  For instance, it would have been nice to hear a musical number from Finn after learning the truth about his dad, or from Rachel after being proposed to, or from Emma after her speech to Will about their future.  Alas.

Although, I will give kudos to "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," which handled a second layer of meaning with the relationships of the four girls singing.  While clearly the first time Tina saw Mike's face was not when they were rolling around on the grass for an outdoor picnic, it was still darling.  And, more poignant yet was the flashback given to Santana, who got equal part in the song, as directed to another woman with no differentiation between the romances.  Points must be given on principle, for that.  (Sure, we're all still waiting on a kiss, but this still works on its own.)

Anyways, Emma also had plans to propose to Will, after advice from Sue to take the reins and be a modern lady.  Will stuck with his plan to propose, up until the moment he asked her Ginger-supremacist parents for permission and they cautioned him about her OCD and the difficulties of raising children and having a future together.  

For me, this storyline was just okay.  Firstly, I have so little emotional investment in Will and Emma, because we rarely see them have any actual interactions that don't involve him trying to "fix" her OCD.  This is upsetting to me, especially because now that Naya Rivera has captured popular attention with her acting chops, I say that Jayma Mays is the new Underrated Actor on Glee.  She disappears for episodes at a time, and when she returns, is shuffled into Will's Girlfriend territory and given only her struggles with anxiety as a character point.  And yet, she takes every paltry moment that could be completely trite, or suffocated by the scripted romance with Will, and makes Emma Pillsbury a strong and imperfect character in her own right, who's completely relatable and winsome in her efforts to be the person she wants to be, regardless of her relationship.  Her speech addressing Will's concerns about the future was a thing of beauty, and her delivery on the painfully simple line "this is what you get," was the single best performance this episode.

But the thing is, I'm tired of storylines that have Will and Finn trumpeting about "what it means to be a man."  We did this in 1x03, and I grow increasingly grumpy to see it again in 3x10.  I wish "Yes/No" was about Emma proposing to Will, and that he was okay with that.  (He seemed to laugh when she told him she was planning on proposing to him, which made me frown at my television.)  Instead, he ignored her efforts to communicate about marriage until he had doubts, and went the White Knight/Prince Charming route of asking her parents and staging an elaborate... synchronized swimming proposal, complete with a white tux and top hat.  Not only that, but Emma stocked her pamphlets with material like "Happily Never After" and "So You're a Spinster."  

If only Emma had actually sung "Wedding Bell Blues" as the culmination of the proposal plotline, and not as a girl's fantasy about getting married as the dude prepared to pop the question.  I mean, on Glee's chart of sexism, this is more like "Acafellas" than "I Kissed a Girl," but it's still somewhat aggravating to see such a grayscale depiction of gender dynamics in a relationship.  This is not an outdated Disney princess film, although at this point, I can't expect much else from Glee, especially with regards to Will and Emma - even if she's supposed to be on a self-empowerment storyline arc.

Finn and Rachel
Oh, where do I even begin with these two?  Finn, after having been on an uncertain path for the future, declares to Mr. Schue that he wants to join the army, just like his dad.  He's translated his original Glee speak of wanting to be a part of something special to being a part of the army, and honoring his deceased father's legacy.  And frankly, I'm on board with a storyline where Finn can attempt to connect with his father and let go of some of his angst over manhood.

It turns out though, as Carole revealed to Finn, that Finn's father did not die an American hero in Iraq.  Rather, he was discharged honorably, and suffered a drug problem when he returned home.  After disappearing one night, he turned up dead in Cincinnati from an overdose.  Pretty shocking, right?  It rightfully turned Finn's world upside down and he was forced to deal.  

There were a few things, though, that felt left of center in terms of the choices made in elaborating this storyline.  On a nitpicky level, I didn't like that Finn learned the truth at school, with Will, Emma, and Burt present.  I wish Carole had told him at home, and that it was simply a scene between mother and son. 

Mostly, though, I didn't like that so much of Finn's angst was framed solely in the discussion of what it means to be a man.  Really, Glee?  Are we still on this?  Usually, it's done interestingly with the inclusion of Kurt, or another gay male character to introduce the question naturally and with thought-provoking results.  (Because frankly, the answers to that question are pretty limiting, insulting to both genders, and, if you'll excuse me, complete bullshit.)  But this time, neither Kurt nor Blaine were on the scene, and we instead got Will telling Finn he taught him how to be a man, and Finn questioning what kind of man he was after learning the truth about his dad.  It also bears stating that Finn has previously told Will that he taught him how to be a man in the absence of his father, and that he also told Kurt that he taught him how to be a man.  At this point, it's becoming a worn-thin plot device that isn't even progressing these characters in any real way.

Ultimately, Finn's crisis manifested in a lot of talk about not knowing what kind of man he was, and then channeling that somehow into feeling like he'd be okay if he just proposed to Rachel so he could love her forever.  That doesn't really connect.  It would have been stronger to see Finn have an actual emotional response independent of gender-centric bullshit, and allow him to work through his issues with his mother, who, may I remind everyone, also gave 50% of her genes to her kid.  It would have been a better choice to see Finn be reassured that just because his father had struggles didn't mean that he was doomed to the same fate, and that he can look up to his strong, hardworking single mother just as much as his absent dad.  It would be far less sexist, and give Carole Hudson a little more credit as a single woman trying to raise her son in Middle America.  Not only that, but it would have been nice to get more sympathy for Finn's dad - it immediately crossed my mind that his drug issues could easily be connected to the emotional toll of fighting a war and returning home from it, which is far more three-dimensional and nuanced for Finn to deal with, rather than "my dad was a loser and I'm destined to be one too."

So really, Finn proposing to Rachel was mostly a disjointed action, and I don't think Lea Michele's flawless rendition of "Without You" could support it, no matter how many times Eric Stoltz cut back and forth between hers and Finn's faces.  I will say, however, that Brad Falchuk can write a mean heartfelt speech, and I actually found Finn's proposal, as well as Will's, to be well-written and mostly bullshit-free, which at this point is commendable.  Of course, couching them in the way their relationships have previously been handled makes them incredibly dissonant, but as standalone pieces, the sentiment is well-communicated and on point.

And, as a complete aside, I must say that I immensely enjoyed NeNe Leakes' turn as Roz Washington, swim coach and Olympic Medal Winner in Individual Synchronized Swimming.  I confess to knowing absolutely nothing about the Real Housewives of Any American City, but NeNe's dialogue and delivery made me giggle.  I wouldn't mind seeing her stick around, although I'm not sure how much more derision the writers can throw at Chord Overstreet's body.

With that, "Yes/No" provided many heartfelt moments and delivered a few good speeches, but it missed several opportunities to avoid White Knight sexism and make the most of the couples they presented as romantically involved.

The RBI Report Card...

Musical Numbers: A

Dance Numbers: A

Dialogue: A

Plot: C

Characterization: B

Episode MVP: Becky Jackson

The RBI Report: "Extraordinary Merry Christmas"

And unto us, this thirteenth of December, was born an episode of Glee that brought tidings of great joy - without offensive portrayals of sensitive topics, flawed premises, or sloppy storytelling choices.  And Rachel even remembered to wish everyone a Happy Hanukkah, too!  (Sure, it was an afterthought line of dialogue two seconds before the fade-out, but I'll take what I can get.)  "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" was one of the more extraordinary Glee episodes of late, in that it made smart and meaningful choices for the characters involved, raised somewhat thought-provoking questions about how to celebrate the season, and remembered a solid amount of its own history without twisting it - all wrapped up in an homage to holiday specials of years past.

"Extraordinary Merry Christmas," written by Marti Noxon, directed by Matthew Morrison

Glee tends to do better with smaller concepts for their episodes (duets!  rumors!  prom!) - and this episode wasn't much different.  "It's Christmas; let's sing!" was the basic premise of the whole shebang, settled easily on the shoulders of a few simple constructs.  The larger of the two was the conflict between New Directions' opportunity to put on their own Christmas special for local television, and the charity performance they promised Sue Sylvester and the homeless shelter - inconveniently occupying the same time slot.  It's not anything revolutionary - the struggle to choose between your own gifts and giving back to others is not new to any holiday narrative.  But, at the same time, Glee made it work, with the individual choices made for the characters involved.

Sue Sylvester's best episodes are the ones where she shows a little bit of her vulnerability and her heart, but without becoming a charity case or a punished villain.  "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" found this delicate angle, and presented us with a Sue who had completely legitimate reasons for wanting to volunteer at the homeless shelter, and was downright endearing in that she wanted the glee kids to sing for them.  Sure, Sue's had her moments of derision towards "urban campers," but maybe she realized that it's not so easy to just trying to not be so homeless, for a change.  In any case, it was nice to see a Sue who cares, but isn't out of character in doing so.

Double points as well for extending this courtesy to Quinn, who opted to not participate in Artie's campy TV special in favor of serving food to the homeless with Sam and Sue.  They gave her dialogue that acknowledged her struggles, with Quinn finally coughing up the words we've been waiting to hear her say for almost two seasons now: she's finally stopped focusing on what she doesn't have, and is instead concentrating on what's good.  Hey, that fits in nicely with wanting to help out people who really don't have much for the holidays!  The character work for Quinn was subtle, but on point this episode.  Finally!

Sam got more of the front-and-center, as he reached out to Rory, who expressed his loneliness over being away from his family at the holidays.  This was excellent!  After two weeks of bewilderedly watching Finn helping Santana come out of the closet and wondering if Glee chooses its meaningful character assists via blind lottery, it was refreshing to see that the show really does pay attention to its characters and what they actually have in common.  In this case, Sam is also living away from his family, and realized Rory must be having a tough time.  So, he offered to be Rory's "Christmas sponsor," and help make the holiday special for him.  Sweet, right?

One of the more interesting conflicts came from this interaction, after Artie derided Rachel's mournful performance of "River," and declared that holiday specials needed to be upbeat and happy.  Sam protested, with a valid argument that melancholy isn't necessarily bad, when it can remind you of all the good things you have in life.  But apparently he's the only one who thinks so, because Rory opted instead to take the onscreen role of a lifetime (Itchy the Holiday Elf!) and participate in sugared-up Christmas joy.

Honestly, this conflict resolved itself a little too easily, and it would have been nice to have a little more discussion devoted to it - simply because both Artie and Sam had reasonable points.  Not only that, but Rory makes two large choices that have sizeable consequences, and we didn't really see what went into those decisions - especially the second one.  Rory's choice to honor Sam's intent and return to the "true meaning of Christmas" felt a little schmaltzy, and while it was (thankfully) not overplayed, it still felt a little bit like a stock answer to every question about what the holiday season's really about.  (It also echoed a lot of Linus' speech in "A Charlie Brown Christmas," and frankly that wasn't helping sell the originality factor.)  Thirdly, the Sam and Rory friendship is one of the more successful dynamics that Glee has naturally developed in recent memory, and it would have been nice to honor that with some more interaction between them in the middle of the story.

Perhaps more time could have been taken out of the Finn-and-Rachel storyline, which seemed like it might have worked better in a smaller package.  "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" presented a Finchel dynamic that worked better than many previous ones, but that still seemed to strike slightly left of center.  Rachel, in the never-ending portrayal as high-maintenance shrew, gave Finn a list of 15 things she wants for Christmas, despite the fact that he doesn't have a lot of money.  She steamrollered over his every protest, and pressured him to bedazzle her with spray tans and bling.  Why is it that Rachel always has to be manifested like this, in her relationships?  It constantly dances into the "bitches be crazy!" territory of TV relationship comedy, and I for one am tired of the narrative actively commenting on how exhausting it must be to date someone as manically self-absorbed as Rachel.

"Extraordinary Merry Christmas" did a few things correctly in the execution of the storyline, though.  Firstly, Finn gave Rachel the dumbest possible gift at first - a slaughter hog from South Africa.  It bears repeating: he bought his Jewish, vegan girlfriend... a pig that was raised to be meat.  Worst ever, right?  So at least they were matched in their inability to behave like rational human beings.  The second good decision for this storyline was that, in the end, they both relented and did something to appreciate the others' good intentions - Finn did his best to buy Rachel a meaningful gift, and Rachel did her best to show Finn that she didn't need an expensive gift for it to be meaningful.  And the star idea was great!  I was delighted to see that someone else indulged in Rachel Berry's self-ascribed star metaphor, until I learned that the star is actually named... Finn Hudson.  

Now, I know I'm not nearly as romantic as at least 75% of Glee's target audience, but that star should have been named Rachel Berry, dammit.  What better way for Finn to show that he's supporting her dreams than by not involving himself in them?  Sure, you can argue that a Finn Hudson star will always be watching over the earthbound Rachel Berry, who is a natural star, blah blah blah.  But there's something far more magical in the simplicity of Finn Hudson buying a star and naming it after Rachel Berry.  It's a stronger choice, and much easier to communicate, without some convoluted second metaphor that draws attention to the fact that we have no idea what these kids' relationship is going to be like in the future.  (Especially if they keep buying each other iPods and warthogs.  I predict a spring breakup if that pattern of gift-giving continues.)

The resolution of this storyline was Rachel saying she needed to give back more, and so she and Finn hocked their gifts and donated the money to charity.  On the one hand, I like that Rachel herself learned her own lesson, and for once nobody told her what she was doing wrong because she's, for example, so socially inept and self-centered, gawd.  Honestly, that deserves credit on Glee.  But at the same time, I'm so tired of storylines where the narrative indicates that Rachel is tyrannical about irrational desires, and sets about teaching her a heavily-plotted moral about selflessness.  We've seen Rachel be selfless countless times in scenarios far more sophisticated in execution (by virtue of show, not tell!) and it's exhausting to keep subjecting Rachel to "lessons" in half-assed plotlines masqueraded as "character development."  Moving on, please!

In its presentation, "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" was all wrapped up in a pretty endearing gimmick: the New Directions were going to have their own television special, and, under Artie's direction, decided to pay homage to the Christmas specials like Judy Garland and George Lucas created!  It's pretty nutty to mix Star Wars and Christmas, and I for one, was on board.  On a larger scale, the show-within-the-show worked, simply because it was creative and had a lot of raw material for laughs.  I totally wanted to visit Kurt and his Hollywood roommate at their chalet in a galaxy far, far away!  

However, I think devoting the middle chunk of the episode solely to this diversion is a little bit of an easy out for screentime.  It seemed to run on too long, with whole numbers for Kurt and Blaine, Rachel and Mercedes, Finn and Puck, and Brittany and the Cheerios.  Not only that, but there's only so many times the laugh track and 50s' era humor works without becoming a one-trick pony.  Even though it was delightful to see a gay couple hosting a vintage-era TV special, it still felt slightly bloated - especially since the whole point of the episode was to spend at least as much time volunteering as you might putting on a Christmas special for western Ohio.  The volunteering was left simply as a magical afterthought, and the Christmas special became an oversized endeavor that bogged down the middle.

Moreover, I think there was a rare opportunity in Artie's TV Special that the Glee writers often try to create but rarely execute well: not since the likes of "Sectionals" and its wood-paneled judges room has the show successfully used a situation to make commentary on the dichotomy between glee club's frivolity and the surrounding disinterest from Middle America.  Sure, Ohio's been portrayed as inhospitable and narrow-minded, but rarely do the glee kids get to interact with that in a way that doesn't somehow result in a flat-out negative reaction.  It's hard to strike that balance of showing the glee kids stepping out and being themselves, receiving a harmless deadpan reaction, and not feeling the wind gust right out of their sails.  

"Extraordinary Merry Christmas" had the opportunity to incorporate that idea, under the duress that the New Directions' gay-fronted TV special was going to air locally and be seen by Lima's residents (the same ones who denounced Sue's affiliation with Santana as a lesbian but praised Burt Hummel's affiliation with the arts).  It's unrealistic, based on what the show has given us, to say that the Gleeks could get on TV and be accepted - especially with a clumsily sophisticated throwback concept.  It would have been classic Glee to allow the kids to do their thing, only to find out they had terrible ratings, or witnessed some sort of reaction from Lima that aligned with snarky but not damaging.  What happened to the lady who felt uncomfortable by Haverbrook Choir's "honking?"  Where is the Lima local who auditioned for "Les Misérables" with "Hey Big Spender?"  I miss the charming commentary that poked fun of showmanship in a decidedly dour environment - especially when the result was so triumphant, in its own sharp-edged kind of way.  

The episode did manage its own brand of snark, though, in its reference to last year's twinkly dreck of a Christmas special, where Brittany couldn't tell the difference between three separate Santas (all of different race and gender... not to mention, one was green), Artie got a miracle walking contraption we never saw again, and Sue made her sidekick dress up like a reindeer.  When it aired, it was a sugary shock of Christmas fun, but the episode has not held up well over time, and I giggled madly that Glee referenced its own ridiculata, citing it as a "bad Christmas," and clearing up the confusion of Artie's contraption, with Tina saying that his "magic legs broke the next day."  I love that Glee took its own miracle and completely poked a hole in it.  (Because seriously, whose idea was it to give Artie the ability to walk and then never show it again?  Irresponsible.)

In all, "Extraordinary Merry Christmas" had solid character work that made the most of meaningful moments, and an interesting premise that felt entertaining and unique.  Sure, there were a few opportunities missed on capitalizing the strongest components of the construct, and left the pacing a bit saggy in the middle - but in all, it was a far cry better than most of this season so far, insofar as the choices made for its characters and presentation of plot.

The RBI Report Card...

Musical Numbers: A

Dance Numbers: A

Dialogue: A

Plot: B

Characterization: A

Episode MVP: Let's give it to the Sue Sylvester-Sam Evans-Quinn Fabray volunteer triforce, shall we?

The RBI Report: "Hold On To Sixteen"

Dear Glee fan, reluctant or otherwise,

You may be wondering if I'll ever write a good recap for this show ever again.  In fact, I myself was questioning the same thing after the back-to-back rude bombs Glee detonated in our unwitting faces.  Well, if any episode could bring this show back from the brink of offensive and return it to pleasantly tolerable (as long as you ignore the details) - it's the annual trip to Sectionals.  Season 1's competition remains the most magical the show has ever been, and Season 2's effort did a pretty solid job of recapturing that same allure.  So, how about Season 3's fare?

"Hold On To Sixteen," written by Ross Maxwell, directed by Bradley Buecker

The key to enjoying "Hold On To Sixteen" is to try and forget "Mash Off" and "I Kissed a Girl," and maybe most of the first season as well.  On its own, the episode works more or less solidly.  Obstacles were overcome, friendships were forged, relationships reinforced, transgressions forgotten, and it was happy hug times for all.  It's hard to argue with that, right?  But, "Hold On To Sixteen" still sits amongst Glee's storytelling ups-and-downs, and if you look too closely at it, some cracks start to emerge in the episode.

The theme, naturally, was about wanting to make the most of youth, as these Seniors begin their farewell tour with the first competition of glee season.  It's a great theme, on paper, and the writers used it to full extent - applying it to Quinn, Sam, Finn, Blaine, Shelby and Puck, Mike and Tina, and the ladies of the Troubletones.  Phew!  This theme worked double time, and I will say that it wasn't hammered in as blatantly as some of Glee's previous themes.  ("Funk," I can't say we hardly knew ye.)  This is a plus!  It's a strong theme, given our natural attachment to these characters and the built-in ability for us to relate to wanting to delay a goodbye and make happy memories in the meantime.

Where it faltered was in the execution of the storylines, many of which seemed to wrap up quickly and simply through applying the magic of a sentiment that felt a little too similar to, "Well, we're all going to die some day!"  This was one step short of sending a meteor crashing towards Earth to up the stakes on everyone's objectives.  (It would be kind of cool to do that on Glee, though, yeah?  Imagine the solo Rachel Berry would attempt to perform as a destructive ball of fire hurtled towards mankind.)  The problems set up in this episode were rather top-heavy and messy, and yet they resolved simplistically, and in a few cases, offscreen.

Conflict #1: Without Rachel, New Directions lacks star power.

Naturally, the first thought is to go to Kentucky to rescue Sam Evans from the throes of exotic male dancing.  This problem resolved itself early, with Rachel and Finn begging Sam to return to Ohio to live out his dream of performing with more clothing and less glitter.  Sam feels he grew up too fast, because of the stripping, and therefore wants to be a teenager again.  Theme alert!  His dad relents, and Sam returns to Ohio to sing a song about being drunk with his long-lost friends.

(Full disclosure: did I grumble at the fact that Sam's scene with his parents was completely onscreen, whereas Santana's with hers last week was left to our imaginations?  Yes, I did.  Did I grumble about "Red Solo Cup" being such a long performance about... nothing relevant?  Yes, I did.  But, as the glee kids are trying to hold on to sixteen, I am trying to let go of 3.06 and 3.07.  It's a work in progress.) 

Honestly, this was the only storyline that dealt with Rachel's absence from the competition in a real way, and Rachel was mostly left to work through that angst in the background.  To me, it seems that if you're going to bench Rachel Berry from the alleged "Rachel Berry Show," then there might need to be more fallout from that.  But, c'est la Glee!  (New goal: to use that phrase once a recap.  And then maybe copyright it.)

Conflict #2: Quinn is going to help New Directions win by exposing the truth about Shelby and Puck to get Shelby fired.

This plan makes total sense when you consider Quinn's current point of view.  Want to win a show choir competition, with the added bonus of getting custody of your biological child?  Just reveal the affair your competitor-and-baby's-adoptive-mother is having with your baby's daddy and call it a day!  Y'know, it's almost too easy.

Truthfully, Quinn's resolution came in the form of the theme - hold on to sixteen, via Shelby.  Shelby revealed to have wanted to be with Puck because it might make her feel young again (it wasn't because of the daddy issues and the fact that Puck is apparently smarter than doctors?) and she realized you can't get those days back.  The message is relayed to Quinn, who realizes, in turn, that she really does want to be sixteen again and will therefore make the most of her remaining days at McKinley High.  Then, Shelby says she's ending her relationship with Puck, quitting her teaching job, and appears to be on her way out.  Look at all that resolution!

Honestly, it felt too easy, and it also seemed to ignore what Quinn's original issue was.  (Although she's had so many in the interim that it's hard to keep track of how to narratively get that girl back on her arc.)  Why should Quinn Fabray want to be sixteen again when her sixteen involved getting accidentally pregnant and kicked out of her family?  It seems like an oversimplification of Quinn's issues, and combined with the fact that Sam told her she had "rich white girl problems," "Hold On To Sixteen" seemed to take a paper-thin version of Quinn Fabray and give her a shiny new lease on life without any consideration to what her character actually is, beneath the pretty teenaged face.  Do we expect anything else for Quinn Fabray at this point, though?

As for Rachel's involvement in Quinn's storyline, "Hold On To Sixteen" got them to friends territory with relative ease, mainly reliant on the charming dialogue and effortless chemistry in the final scene.  Frankly, though, Rachel had little to do with Quinn's storyline within the walls of the episode.  As it was, Quinn spent most of the forty-five minutes as an aggressively hostile tyrant, and then within one scene, flipped instantly towards gushy devotion to her relationships.  While I love that Quinn seems to value her friendships now, it's hard to believe that two seasons' worth of Quinn Fabray psychological mess could be resolved with a Shelby-given "you're only 18 once!" message - especially when she still schemed her way through three-quarters of the episode.

But in the bigger picture, it felt more fluid using the idea that Quinn got back on track with Rachel's help.  Quinn expressed a hint of self-awareness and remorse, while Rachel offered up encouragement, and ultimately, empathy.  The best part of Rachel and Quinn's storyline was that Rachel wasn't chastising Quinn for being a hot mess, but telling her that she knew what it was like to do the wrong thing.  That connected to their characters' arcs on both a larger and smaller scale, and it was the strongest footing for their dynamic to stand on given the storylines they're currently in.  Not only that, but it was nice to see Quinn getting a dose of truth without getting yelled at or demeaned.  So really, despite all this quibbling, I look forward to seeing a Quinn that appears to be genuine, with real friendships and a hint of self-acceptance in her heart.  

Conflict #3: Blaine feels unempowered in New Directions.

Finally, we got some insight onto this Finn-vs.-Blaine conflict that the writers have dropped randomly into previous episodes!  Turns out it's essentially what we thought it was: a pissing contest.  Finn felt threatened by Blaine's talent because it made him feel bad about himself.  That's totally valid, and is in keeping with Finn's shadow arc right now, but wouldn't it have been nice to see that incorporated into a storyline for Finn, that Blaine could be a part of?  In "Hold On To Sixteen," Blaine just blew a fuse at his mistreatment, and Finn immediately owned up to the transgression and apologized for it.  So, it's more telling and less showing.  How... uninteresting.

I will say that I enjoyed seeing something that got under Blaine's skin enough to upset him.  He is a real boy!  If Mr. Anderson is indeed going to be a part of this ensemble, he needs flaws too, that are manifested in a storyline and (hopefully) worked through.  It felt rewarding to see Blaine behave like an actual emotional being, and in the end everything was resolved with a fist bump anyways, so no harm, no foul.

It continued, though, with a tiff between Sam and Blaine about choreography.  Sam, bringing his newfound sexiness to the mix, scoffed at Blaine's "boy band" choreography and wanted something with a little more gyration to it.  (So Sam's Bieber days are behind him, then?  Because this side of six months ago, homeboy thought the epitome of cool was being in a boy band full of Justin Biebers.  But hey, stripping changes a man.)

Regardless, this altercation was also cleaned up easily, as apparently the New Directions had no difficulty pulling their routines together.  The boys fought, and then resolved their issues offscreen, just in time for the audience to get a whopping three full numbers, back-to-back-to-back, that would ultimately win Sectionals with absolutely no resistance whatsoever.  Oh.    

Conflict #4: How can the Troubletones and New Directions reunite?

Easy, of course!  Have Quinn, with her randomly newfound (but not unwelcome?) Kumbaya attitude, beseech the Troubletones to return to New Directions so they can all be together for that last school year!  Forgive me for playing devil's advocate, but couldn't that logic work if Troubletones won and offered to absolve New Directions?  Which, surprisingly, they did, in a gesture that honestly seemed rather nice of them.  But apparently it was just as offensive as Santana's fat jokes, judging on how poorly Finn reacted to that idea. 

Wouldn't it have been ballsy storytelling if New Directions didn't win?  But was there any question whatsoever that they wouldn't, even though it was technically a real possibility based on the competition from the Troubletones?  Blaine himself said that New Directions was a mess, and the Troubletones had one fierce performance with "I Will Survive/Survivor" - both vocally and with choreography.  So why not let that follow through?

I had a writing teacher once that said, "Write yourself into a corner, just to see how you get yourself out of it - you never know what interesting things you might come up with."  The Glee writers often back themselves into a corner, but rarely do they ever get themselves out of the corner in an interesting way.  They just push down the walls so they can have a new room with a new corner to paint themselves into.  And that's how this show has no rules, because we don't know what walls are going to stand and which are going to be pushed down.  In the case of the glee club split, the interesting way to get out of that corner would be for the Troubletones to win and see where the narrative could take them.  But instead, the writers knocked down their seemingly-unforgiving obstacles (Rachel being suspended!  New Directions being a mess!  Santana and Mercedes having powerhouse voices!  Shelby being a nationally-renowned glee club coach!) with hardly any resistance, and we're all left scratching our heads, wondering how the rules work.

Conflict #5: Mike's dad refuses to let Mike pursue his dream.

I confess, even though this storyline resolved almost as quickly and easily as the others, it was still rewarding to watch because of the execution.  It was lovely to see Tina stand up and fight for Mike's happiness, and even lovelier to see her refuse to back down when he opposed.  How great was the "I'm disappointed in you/Well that makes two of us" exchange?  Tina Cohen-Chang, bless your beating heart, you're the beacon of hope for strong ladies on this show!  She even went straight to Mike's dad - who, let's face it, is a formidable man - and spoke her mind!  Remind me again why this character doesn't get any screentime?

But even that changed tonight, with Tina getting a fair part of Mike's storyline, as well as a good chunk of a solo in "ABC."  Mike got to share the lead as well, with his father in the audience to witness his talent so that he could believe in his son.  The conflict in this storyline was interesting, in that it doubled over between Mike and Tina as well as Mike and his dad, and while it may have been an easy fix to have Mike's dad change his mind simply by seeing his son happy, it's a touching construct that's difficult to knock.  That resolution was by far the least worrisome of the easy wrap-ups.

Let's talk about some of the extraneous tidbits, shall we?  With the return of Sam, we also got the return of Samcedes!  While the "I'm not going to respect your boundaries with your new boyfriend because we're totally meant to be together" trope is nauseatingly worn thin on Glee, I confess that I look forward to developing Sam and Mercedes' relationship simply because we never got to see it.  And it held such promise!  For a show that deals so disgustingly in stereotyping, I was excited to see that Glee might push forward an interracial relationship between a hunky white football player and the larger-than-size-2 black girl.  In that vein, I love the prospect of them having some kind of happy relationship together, and if we have to trudge through Sam trying to "win her back" just so we can see them interact, then so be it. 

Of course, we also got the return of the conniving and lascivious Sebastian, who really did not mince any words when giving Kurt the rundown of his plan to invade Blaine's pants.  Is there anyone in the audience that doesn't think Sebastian is slimy?  Even through the TV, I could tell that he really does smell like Craigslist.  But the conflict is left to simmer on the backburner as we await what this snake in the grass could do to muss up Kurt and Blaine's perfectly-coiffed relationship.

So, as third year Sectionals comes to a close, did it really measure up to the years before?  The short answer?  No, not really.  The fact that the obstacles were overblown and unrealistically resolved made everything feel slightly unearned, and combining that with the obvious triumph of New Directions led to a slight tired feeling amidst it all.  The episode's best moments were in the last number, "We Are Young," in which the glee kids came together again and had fun singing together on stage - no competition, no stress; they could just be themselves.  Those five minutes had more magic packed into them than the entire forty minutes that preceded them, and it had more to do with the actors loving on each other than any story-based payoff.  It was still great, though - from Mercedes joining first with her voice, to Rachel extending a hand to a reluctant Santana, the reunion was touching and genuine, if a bit out-of-left-field.  It's charming, and perplexing at the same time, which seems to be an accurate descriptor of Glee on its good days.

To be fair, I do not envy the job that Ross Maxwell had in this episode, because he attempted to singlehandedly resolve five different plotlines with one main theme.  I give him credit for even attempting that, given the narrative mess that he's inherited as a new writer.  In the end, "Hold On To Sixteen" managed some but not all of the show's magic, and used a strong theme - but was burdened with overwrought problems that sorted out a bit too easily.  At any rate, I'm now at least looking forward to next week again, and ultimately, that is a good thing.

The RBI Report Card...

Musical Numbers: A

Dance Numbers: A

Dialogue: B

Plot: B

Characterization: B

Episode MVP: Tina Cohen-Chang