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The
Planet — At the roulette wheel, Shane
tells Bette to try 32 red. Bette resists at first,
but Helena says "Bet the lot, Bette" (no,
I don't find that cute, not at all) and everyone else
encourages Bette too, so she puts her chips down.
Actually, Shane's chips. As the wheel spins, Bette
looks over to where Billie Blaikie is making a show
of enjoying himself with two pretty young things,
one male, one female. And as she's staring at him,
the wheel lands on 32 red.
If
this were an AM Homes book, I would re-read this scene
several times and marvel at its layers, because Homes
would know just how to state it simply without giving
anything away. But on the screen it seems a bit heavy.
Luckily, we are soon distracted by Alice tossing some
dental dams at Dana and Lara and telling them to keep
it safe. Dana's "thanks" sounds genuinely
sad.
The
mythical small town gay bar — Hear that
music? That's the utterly brilliant Neko Case singing
"Porchlight."
Please play "I
Wish I Was the Moon" at my funeral. Thank
you. And if you don't have Blacklisted,
buy it now.
The
waitress brings tequila shots to Jenny and Moira's
table and says she thinks she knows who'll be taking
who(m) home tonight. "What does that mean?"
whispers Jenny. Oh, I think you know, Miss Schechter.
Moira
wanders off and notices someone's giving her the eye,
so she asks the looker to dance. Jenny orders two
more tequilas and downs them both as she watches Moira
do her thing. And then Jenny cuts in, and it puzzles
Moira, and they leave in a whirr of Jenny-ish confusion
and coquettishness.
The
Planet — Bette and Kit discuss Billie;
specifically, his Little League comment (the former
disapproves; the latter thinks he was just playin').
The odd thing about all of it is that Kit doesn't
look good in her tuxedo-ish getup, and I would have
expected quite the opposite.
A
cabaret act takes the stage: an Elvis and an Ann Margaret.
The Elvis is cool — and almost sounds like Michelle
Shocked, who would make a great guestbian. The Ann
Margaret sounds more like a Liza Minnelli. Please
don't muddle the washed-up camp stars in your mind.
David
shows up and says the whole thing looks like a nightmare
and that there are too many freaks at this once-respectable
establishment.
Billie:
"You know what? For a minute I was seriously
considering shagging you, Mr. Izod. But you're not
a very nice fellow, are you?
Kit
announces that Billie is her new manager, and of course
David doesn't like the idea.
Kit:
"Let me tell you something. It gives me
great joy to see these people in here laughing,
and partying and living the life they love and loving
the life they live."
Cabaret!
Chicago! So many musicals, so many references, so
little joy.
Bette
wants Kit to be nice because she needs David to help
her out with the adoption thing. Kit says he's such
an arrogant little prick. As Margaret Cho would say,
what a cool mommy!
A
small-town motel — Moira gives voice
to our innermost thoughts:
Moira:
[to Jenny] "Are you gonna tell me what
you want? Or are you just gonna sit there, acting
all weird and silent?"
Wait,
I know this one! Pick me, pick me!
Jenny
knows she was acting jealous, and says it was fucked
up. And then she tells Moira to stand against the
wall and unbutton her shirt. And Moira does, but when
Jenny wants to fuck her — "You never let
me fuck you" — Moira says no. So okay, the
heading down the highway was okay, but not the fucking?
The camera must be wondering too, because it's zooming
in on Moira's crotch as if to say "what's going
on here?" But I don't really care, and neither
should the camera: Moira can do what she wants, and
what she wants right now is to hug Jenny, which is
really pretty sweet.
Perhaps
now is a good time to insert a disclaimer: although
I think I can claim some knowledge of the wonderful
world of gender and sexuality and all of the planes
and intersections thereof, I'm not going to pretend
I know how Moira feels about anything. But on the
other hand, I don't really pretend to know how any
of these characters feel about anything. So, as usual,
if I say something stupid, do let me know. (As if
I needed to ask.)
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