Over the course of this series of Skins, Franky has finally found her way into a family of friends. The only steady source of abrasion and conflict has been Mini McGuiness. Mini McGuiness with her perfect hair and her perfect makeup and her perfect clothes and her perfect boyfriend and her perfect portions of dried bananas and flax seed oil for breakfast. She launched an assault on Franky as soon as her stolen scooter crashed into Roundview, and it’s been some kind of tempestuous ever since. Mini lashes out, Franky reaches out. Mini squalls, Franky soothes. Mini perpetuates her own propaganda, Franky bears the burden of the propaganda created for her.
Last night, the play was the thing. Among about one frikkin’ gazillion perfect Shakespeare allusions, Grace is staging a production of Twelfth Night. Franky is Viola, which: of course she is, Jamie Brittain, you god among men. And Mini is Olivia. The play is in shambles; nothing is resonating, and in a moment of sweet rebellion, Grace decides to get just blinkered in her bedroom with Liv and Mini and Franky. (I don’t want to spoil the spectacular reveal of Grace’s parentage to you; watch the episode!)
Last week, a dude called Franky a “dyke” at a party and shoved her against a wall, and she sat outside and threw rocks at the ground until Liv talked her back inside with a kiss to her hand. This week Mini just comes out with the actual question for the first time ever, and if you didn’t love Franky before, you’re going to love her forever now:
Mini: Franky you haven’t really told us wether you are a … or a … ?
Franky: A what or a what?
Liv: A lesbian.
Grace: Liv, that’s so—
Franky: No, it’s OK. I don’t mind. And the answer is no, I’m not anything.
Mini: So you’re bisexual?
Franky: No. I’m into people.
Scout Finch, my favorite character ever, said the same thing, Franky my love. There’s just one kind of folks: folks. And yes, oh yes. A thousand times yes.
They dance. There’s some dancing. And a little bit of this:
(Image via relusient.)
Has there ever been a character like Franky on TV before? Nu uh. Never. And it gets better, too, because the next day at rehearsal, Grace tells Mini to kiss Franky. And here’s what you need to know: Mini is a terrible, terrible actress. But when she kisses Franky, it is tender and sweet and sincere and real, real, real. And the way Franky leans into it and smiles is so swoon-inducing it made me light-headed.
The next day, Grace wants Matty to kiss Franky, which creates like a dozen issues: a) Matty is obviously into Franky, which: b) makes Liv jealous to a murdery degree. c) Franky is also into Matty, as evidenced by the way that she gets all grinny around him because d) he did maybe save her life that one time he called her a “glorious f–king headf–k thing.” But then, what about Mini? Super straight, would-do-anything-to-save-her-relationship-with-Nick Mini? Exhibit e)
Why’d the camera even go there anyway, huh? IS IT BECAUSE WE’RE SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT MINI HAS SOME FEELINGS ABOUT FRANKY KISSING MATTY? HUH? IS IT? (HINT: YES.) (Oh, and here’s to Grace Violet for her good, old-fashioned Renaissance psychology!)
During the actual play, it’s Liv who kisses Franky, which adds a whole other Shakespearian tragedy level to the thing, but it’s got exactly zero emotion behind it. It’s no Franky/Mini, that’s for ham-let-sure.
Next week is the finale. Last night’s preview showed Mini shouting at Franky, “[Matty] only wants to f–k you, then f–k you up!” And then there’s this preview E4 released today:
Now, here’s my honest assessment of this spectacular turn of events: The entire series has been leading up to a Matty/Franky hook-up, and I’ll be really shocked if that doesn’t happen next episode. But there’s something happening between Mini and Franky, and it’s not subtext. The writing, the direction, the lingering looks and sizzling kisses are adding up to something. Mini didn’t want to have sex with Nick; both experiences were deeply unpleasant for her. If Jamie Brittain & Co. are setting up a genderqueer character for a girl/girl/boy love triangle in series six, I will die of utter delight. I’m serious. I’ll volunteer to be the person they kill in the next series because somebody’s got to die; it’s the Skins way. And so let it be me. Let Minky happen and let it be me.
How are you feeling about Franky Fitzgerald and her lady lover best friend Mini McGuiness?