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“Glee” Recap (4.03): The Fairy Godmother Wears Prada

Previously on Glee, Rachel and Cassandra July came to a truce when Ms. J confessed that she only belittles and waterboards her students to prepare them for the harsh world of New York theater criticism, a meaner form of review even than YouTube comments, because the writers know how to punctuate. Kurt and Rachel got a loft in Bushwick, the mecca of artistically inclined twenty-somethings who cannot afford to live in Williamsburg and are not afraid of murder or bed bugs. Brittany had a nuclear-caliber meltdown that was both a Machiavellian ploy to make a stellar comeback and a depression spiral because she misses Santana. Jake got his star-crossed lover on with Marley after joining New Directions because Puck flew in from Los Angeles to tell him Mr. Schuester would make a man out of him. And, in the least believable plot line of all time, the world kept spinning even though Quinn Fabray apparently no longer exists in it.

Blaine Anderson calls himself “Blaine Anderson” and says it’s time to change things up and become a shining star. Blaine Anderson has obviously never watched an episode of Glee or purused an AfterElton.com Hot 100 list where the name “Blaine Anderson” appears one hundred million times each year, thus sealing his position as the brightest of all celestial orbs. He signs up for every McKinley High School club, including a wizarding club – Team Starkid shout out! – while singing Tears For Fears‘ “Everybody Wants to Rule the World,” which is a song I love and Blaine does it such justice. I’m always glad when he gets to sing my treasured tunes. Finn always makes me hate everything, even my favorite songs.

The montage features a bittersweet moment of Kurt and Blaine hate-watching Treme* over Skype, sharing popcorn in their pajamas, and Blaine coming to the realization that even dressing up like a superhero and learning to defend himself from zombies with a sewing needle can’t fill up the Kurt-shaped hole in his heart.

(*The New Normal made a Treme jab this week too, which kind of makes me think Ryan Murphy is playfully clowning on David Simon, like maybe they’re buddies or something, but I’m having a hard time imagining a world where those two are friends based solely on their approaches to story continuity. As in, Simon: obsessed with; Murphy: does not know the definition of.)

The last thing Blaine signs up for is the class president election, which throws Brittany for a loop because she was under the assumption that she’d been elected to some sort of lifelong monarch situation. Don’t worry, Brit, you’ll always be the Queen of my Heart.

Kurt has landed himself an interview for an internship at Vogue because of the portfolio he submitted of his own personal street style. Which: Something like that happens on Gossip Girl, like Dan gets published in the New Yorker by writing a poem called “Sluts,” and you go, “Sure thing, show.” But somehow the idea that Kurt Hummel gets a call from Vogue just because he’s dressed like Kurt Hummel makes total sense. He completes his dapper interview outfit with like a velociraptor broach, which makes up-and-coming fashion goddess Isabelle Wright melt into a puddle of swoon right on her office floor. He’s from Lima, she’s from Columbus. He’s got big dreams, she remembers what it’s like to have big dreams. He loves NYC voiceovers, she invented NYC voiceovers.

I’m a little nervous about handing over Kurt to SJP on account of the Era of Sexless Gay Best Friends she ushered in with Stanford Blatch, but Carrie Bradshaw ain’t got nothin’ on Rachel Berry in terms of self-absorbed neuroses spirals, and anyway, she’s the good witch to Kate Hudson’s bad witch, so godspeed, Hummel.

Brittany recruits Artie to be her vice-presidential candidate for this year’s student body president election because she really wants to secure the Cylon vote. He explains for the dozenth time that he’s not a robot, and she giggles because she thinks he’s making another one of those jokes about how they dated. He says he’ll be the Cheney to her Bush, and he’s for real, because he is the most power-hungry teenager since Tom Riddle. But Brittany takes the analogy to a whole other place, saying she’d rather be called “landing strip” if that’s the route they’re going with their nicknames.

Brittany announces her candidacy and running mate during glee practice while Sam stares at her with wide-eyed longing, like the way your face gets when a basket of puppies pops up on your Tumblr dashboard. Mr. Schue also has an announcement: Because New Directions won Nationals, McKinley gets to host the show choir chair committee meeting this year. Things get real meta real fast: The kids are like, “Ask them why some groups get to sing six songs and some groups get to sing only one. Ask them what half-vintage means.” Jake channels Puck and thinks maybe they should practice for these fabled “Nationals,” a suggestion that sends Will into an existential crisis because he’s slap out of ideas. (I’ve got an idea: Call Quinn and find out if she’s alive!)

Sam follows Brittany out of the choir room, still looking at her with basket-of-puppies eyeballs. She explains that she didn’t choose him for her veep because she doesn’t want to ruin their friendship like what happened to John McCain and his granddaughter Sarah Palin, but she does set him up to be running mates with Blaine. Blaine’s not really feeling it until Sam explains that he can carry the poor vote, the straight vote, and the people-who-like-impressions joke. Blaine agrees to the matchup, partly because Sam is still making that face, and partly because he kind of doesn’t know anyone else in the whole school. Brittany challenges them to a debate and Sam accepts, but then pulls Blaine into a sidebar where he wonders, “What’s a debate?”

Kurt interns his way through his first Vogue pitch meeting, the subject of which is “leather in unexpected ways.” Kurt is horrified by the staffers’ ideas. Leather socks. Leather knickers. The one that really makes his eyes bug out of his head is “a belt as punishment, a belt as reward,” which only goes to show you that he hasn’t dug very far into the Klaine tag over at fanfiction.net. After the meeting, Isabelle asks Kurt what he thought of the ideas, and he’s like, “Look, one time I wore a canary feather duster as a belt. I have a collection of hand-knitted wool ponchos and boleros. I’ve never ridden a horse, but I own at least three riding helmets. One year, my whole deal was tartan meets von Trapp. So I don’t say this lightly: Those ideas sucked.” She breaks down about being a failure and a fraud and Kurt flips to Rachel Containment Mode faster than you can say “leopard spotted smoking jacket.” (Never forget.)

Artie has taken a straw poll and determined that most of the people who are coming to the debate are hoping to hear Brittany say something dumb. He feels the air around him shift and crackle and he realizes Santana has employed her lesbian superpower of feelings intuition from all the way down in Louisville and she knows he just hurt Brittany’s feelings and so now she’ll be teleporting onto the scene to choke him to death with her bare hands in a matter of seconds. He covers by blurting out a breathless: “Your brain exists in this magical other dimension where anything is possible! It’s really amazing! We just need to focus on a little preparation!” Santana is appeased. Artie will live another day. Meanwhile, Blaine tells Sam to be a “serious candidate,” so he does his best John Wayne impression.

Time for our first makeover! Sam and Brittany sing “Celebrity Skin” like how you would sing “Celebrity Skin” three and a half beers into Friday night karaoke after a real shitty week at work, all mad and loud and growl-y and embarrassingly earnest. That’s not important. What’s important is that we get the first of two shirtless Overstreets, and Heather Morris looks like the kind of librarian that makes me want to explore the theme of leather in unexpected ways.

At NYADA, a couple of Plastics in Rachel’s dance class mock her fashion sensibility, which leads us to makeover number two! Over Chinese takeout on the floor of their Bushwick loft, which still doesn’t house any furniture apparently, Rachel laments her country girl street style to Kurt. It’s midnight. He’s been working for Vogue for exactly one day. So of course he’s like, “Let’s just break into the vault and gussy you right up!” Isabelle catches them, nearly has them shot by a couple of literal fashion police, but she susses out the word “makeover” in Kurt and Rachel’s frantic explanatory babbling, so she gives them a pass. Actually, to her credit, the only time SJP does the full Carrie Bradshaw in this episode is when her face gets orgasmic and her voice goes, “You had me at ‘makeover.'”

Rachel’s makeover ditty is a mash-up of “The Way You Look Tonight” and “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile,” which is a really nice callback to SJP’s time as Annie on Broadway. Rachel makes a full transition into Lea Michele. They record the whole thing and send it upstairs to Anna Wintour as a pitch for a new Vogue.com video series.

Back home, at like 3:00 a.m., Kurt and Blaine Skype some more. Kurt is so psyched on his meteoric rise up the New York fashion ladder, and also on the fact that Rachel has burned all of her knee socks, that he breezes over Blaine’s request to help him pick out a bowtie for the class president debate. It’s well acted and heartbreaking and probably the truest relationship conundrum Glee has ever thrown at one of its couples. Blaine’s face is regular sad, but when Kurt doesn’t even notice that, Blaine’s face goes to saddest.

Only about 20 kids show up for the McKinley class president debate, which is mercifully hosted by Sue instead of Figgins. I wish they’d just make her the principle already. Artie drones on for like three hours about his 96-point plan to make McKinley a school of excellence. When it’s finally Sam’s turn to talk, he makes a counterpoint by taking of his shirt and twirling it around his head. There are worse campaign strategies than Chord Overstreet’s pecs. One point for Team Blam. During the presidential portion of the debate, a very nervous Blaine says he thinks the school deserves better than a Jurassic Prom – which is ridiculous! Nothing is better than dinosaur-themed parties! – and also that banning hair gel leads to burning people at the stake probably. Brittany says if she’s re-elected, she’ll wrap the whole school up in a hug they’ll love so much they won’t even want weekends or summer vacation anymore. One point for Team … no, sorry. I can’t make myself type their ship name ever again.

Isabelle calls Kurt into her office to discuss his late night foray into the Vogue vault. She tells him he’s going to want to sit down for this one: Anna loved the makeover mash-up video so much, she actually sent an email calling it “great.” It’s Isabelle’s first “great” since joining the Vogue team, and she’s so hopped up on their co-success that she tells Kurt to trash his lifelong NYADA dreams immediately and put all of his eggs into the fashion basket. Kurt figures it’s worth a shot. I mean, if it doesn’t work out, he can always just start NYADA tomorrow, right? That’s what he learned from New Directions. When you’re part of a musical ensemble, you can just quit the group and return at your leisure, up to ten times per episode.

Brody stalks Rachel down in the dance studio, where she takes what is apparently the only class offered offered by the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts. He is quite taken with her new wardrobe. She’s like, “Oh, this old leotard? You wouldn’t believe how many of them are just lying around over at Vogue.” She says that she likes to do something every day to “keep her machine well-oiled” and Brody winks and says, “Me too, baby.” She asks him to sing and dance with her, which is the show choir equivalent of making all the sexes. They sing “A Change Will Do You Good” while frolicking through the city and eating ice cream in the most obscene way possible. During her post-coital/dance haze, Rachel asks Brody over for dinner, which she wants to prepare for him, from scratch. The best “friends with benefits” scenario I could possibly imagine is one where the payoff is macaroni and cheese. Congratulations, Brody.

Team Blam wins the election, but Blaine can’t get excited about it because he can’t share his victory with Kurt. He tells Sam that Kurt is planning an inauguration ball, which isn’t true at all, because Kurt doesn’t even know that Blaine has won, because Kurt is hobnobbing with Vogue.com’s leather fetishists and not answering Blaine’s phone calls. And, I mean, it’s like 2:30 in the afternoon, right? And Kurt is at his job, right? It’s not like he’s out at some kind of male strip club in the middle of the night ignoring Blaine’s calls while Channing Tatum dances on his lap. Still, though, Blaine is a sad sad lamb.

At their victory party, Blaine tells Sam that he was shocked today when he realized he only came to McKinley to be with Kurt, even though he said out loud when he came to McKinley that his reason for being there was Kurt. Sam says that even though he came for Kurt, he should stay for Sam. Not because Sam wants to be his boyfriend. But because Sam wants to be his brother in superheroism, the Cyclops to his Wolverine. And even though those two heroes hate each other, it’s a lovely moment. (For real, though, Sam is Aquaman and Blaine is Captain America.)

Brittany sidles up to Sam in a booth at Breadstix and he gets that puppy basket face again. He tells her he voted for her, and she tells him she voted for herself. They hug and are adorable and wouldn’t it be nice if Glee could sustain one platonic friendship? They can’t, of course. Sam’s gonna go after this thing full-throttle. But it sure would be rad if they could just be best buddies. They’d make great best buddies. Also, best buddies would keep the lesbians from killing Sam in his sleep. Alas.

Rachel nearly blows up Bushwick trying to cook dinner for Brody, so they order pizza and eat it on the floor and tell dumb secrets to each other. Last week, Brody was like, “Just FYI, I am always thinking about kissing you,” which wigged Rachel out. But this week, he’s like, “FYI, I’m hands-off,” so just goes right ahead and makes out with his face. There’s a knock at the door. Rachel giggles that it’s Kurt. It’s not. It’s Finn. He sees Brody in the background wiping Rachel’s lipstick off his mouth and he makes a very confused face.

Just kidding, that’s Finn’s regular face. Who even knows if he sees Brody standing back there.

Oh, and there also was a C-story this week that basically was Will freaking out because he can’t get inspired to inspire kids anymore, so probably he’s going to take a multi-episode hiatus to join a “blue ribbon committee” to petition the state of Ohio to give money to the arts. It should probably be a bigger deal that he’s not going to be on the show for a while, but they haven’t known what to do with his character since the halfway point of season one, so it’s not a sad thing to see them exploring other options for glee teachers. My money is on Finn.

Next week, Blaine goes to New York to make Kurt cry. Santana goes to Lima to make Brittany cry. Will packs his bags and not even Emma cries. And Finn confesses to getting kicked out of the army because of his one-man mission to come out on behalf of every closeted soldier gay now that “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” has been repealed.

I know it’s hard to watch, what with our favorite gaymo couples on the rocks, but I’m really enjoying Glee‘s fourth season so far. How about you?

Mega thanks to my screencapping partner Lindsay, who stayed up all night to make sure she got juuuuust the right cap of Heather Morris in her librarian gear. Follow her on Twitter (@scenicpenguin) and talk to her about her OTP (Marley + Hats).

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