Archive

“The L Word” Recaps: Episode 6.02 “Least Likely”

THIS WEEK’S L WORD VOCABULARY:

Suit: The secret ingredient that turns Sexy Tasha into Super Mega Sexy Tasha. WTF: Alice’s refrain on behalf of the audience. Revelation: How Jenny brings about the apocalypse.
THIS WEEK’S GUESTBIANS: Elizabeth Berkley takes Bette for a stroll down memory lane; Jane Lynch shows us what she’s got; Alexandra Hedison finds that time doesn’t heal all wounds; Cybill Shepherd is still in charge.

Previously on The L Word – Whoa, did you see Dylan in the “previously” scenes? That whole thing (starting back in Season 3, Episode 4) seems like such a long time ago. It’s more like prehistorically on The L Word.

Lifestyles of the rich and clueless – Niki is hanging out in her crib with her entourage. You know how these things go – and if you don’t, just turn on MTV right now and you’ll probably see something similar. There are lots of cell phones and bikinis; the music and decor are unbelievably cool; everyone’s dealing with some sort of seriously big OMG drama. For Niki, of course, the drama is all about what Schecter spake.

Niki rants her way from one room to the next, wagging her finger and shaking her head and yet somehow utterly failing to really convey much emotion at all.

Niki: [to nobody and everybody] Can you believe that? She f—s me all night long, and then she has the nerve to say that it’s a showmance. I mean, I don’t even know what the f— that is. Entourage friend: I’m Googling. It’s uh … a phony romance that happens during a movie or a TV show, usually between two stars, but …
Niki cuts her off, which is a relief. Who doesn’t know what that means? Showmance, fauxmance, bromance, homance – where will this clever little trend end? It’s a romance between seamstresses: a sewmance! A dalliance spurred on by the recession: a pomance! And how about a fling between two Simpsons characters? A d’ohmance! Gah, enough already.

One of the other entourage ingenues (entouragenues?) starts to babble about who really broke Jenny’s heart.

Niki: You know what? You are out of my Five.
Really? People do that? It’s not just a commercial?

Niki throws everyone out, then goes to the balcony, fixes her gaze on something offstage and makes a little speech:

Niki: Jenny Schecter is a liar and a user. And trust me, you are not going to get away with this. You are dead meat, Schecter. Dead.
Ooh, we have our first suspect! It was Niki on the balcony with the T-Mobile. Wait; that would be the murder of this scene, not of Jenny.

Spectacular – At the Hit club, Helena and Kit are having a meeting with their new DJ. Hold up a sec. Is this Glasses Night on The L Word?! Aww, yeah! And if it really is Glasses Night, does that mean Tina Fey is going to show up as a surprise guestbian? Hey, I dream big.

Anyway, the DJ’s name is Sunset Boulevard. As Joe Biden might say, let me say that again: The DJ’s name is freaking Sunset Boulevard. Isn’t that subtle? The next thing you know, one of the characters will change her name to Ima D. Killer.

They all talk about the new decor for Hit: the colors are Moroccan, in a nod to Casablanca. Classic film references are to The L Word as clowns are to a clown car.

I should mention that the DJ is a drag queen. Kit is temporarily twitterpated by the physique she finds under the fabulousness.

Kit: So … what do we have to do to get the fabulous Sunset Boulevard to come and spin at Hit? Sunset: Just keep being the fabulous Kit Porter. You know you’re my ultimate R&B goddess. Kit: Oh, I don’t know about the “ultimate.” [squeezing a deltoid] Ooh, somebody’s been working out! Sunset: Mmm hmm. Kit: [hastily removing her hand] Not that we’re the type … you know, we’re, uh … [looking at Helena] We’ve both sworn off men. Helena: Ages ago. Sunset: Good for you. You two got a good thing goin’ here. You don’t need some man in here messin’ it up.
Kit and DJ Sunset continue to flirt anyway. Hmm, something just occurred to me: remember when Bette and Tina were trying to figure out what their kid’s last name would be, and they briefly suggested Portard? If Kit Porter marries Ms. Boulevard, they’ll be another pair of Portards!

Busy lezzie bees – At the Planet, Jenny, Alice and Tasha are engaged in their various pursuits. Jenny and Alice are both typing madly on their shiny Macs, while Tasha pores over an old-fashioned three-ring binder.

Their breakfast arrives, including some very pretty waffles for Jenny. She informs the server that she didn’t order those. But the server explains that they’re from Shane, who is forlornly gulping coffee nearby.

Kit (who is also at the table with Shane) explains to Jenny that Shane made the waffles especially for her. Wait: she actually made them? Has Shane been hanging out with the soup chef, taking cooking lessons instead of those photography lessons she was considering in last season’s finale?

It’s sweet, though, especially because Shane appears to have a smudge of flour on her face. Aww, now I’m thinking about that food fight/flirtation scene in Fried Green Tomatoes. But there’s no flirtation here:

Jenny: Excuse me, Alice? Do you mind just mentioning to Shane that I don’t want her waffles.
Alice hesitates, then accepts the mission.
Alice: [brightly, to Shane] Hey. Um … she doesn’t want your waffles.
I cannot fully capture Leisha’s brilliant delivery of this line. Think of it as the Venn intersection of talk-show host, irritated pseudo-friend and Marge Gunderson. As Jenny stomps over to the trash can to throw away the penitent waffles, Bette and Tina arrive, full of morning cheer and praise for all of the improvements Helena has made to the Planet. Their sunny moods are quickly dampened by the tension between Jenny and Shane. In order to choose sides/tables (the battle of the Cheats and the Narcs continues), they play Rock, Paper, Scissors. Bette loses twice.
Bette: Why do I always lose? Tina: ‘Cause you’re always rock. Bette: Is that what it is?
How do you not know this about yourself, Bette?
Bette: Have fun with the martyrs. Tina: Have fun with the cheaters.
Even if it were the farters and the bleeders, it couldn’t be more of a lose-lose situation.

I’m not sure the table division makes a lot of sense (Alice is at the martyrs’ table, while Kit is with the cheaters), but it doesn’t really matter. It already feels like it’s just a big game. Maybe tomorrow, after starting out with Rock, Paper, Scissors again, they can have a halftime game of Red Rover to spice up the allegiances.

Tina wants to know what the industrious people at her table are working on. Tasha shows her the spine of her police training manual. Jenny explains that she’s writing a new treatment for a film. But hmm, what is Alice writing?

Alice: A treatment. Jenny: A treatment for a film? Alice: I just … I had this kinda killer idea, so I thought, I’ll just write a great screenplay and then sell it for millions and buy a house in Malibu. Tasha: I don’t like Malibu. Alice: You’ve never been to Malibu. Tasha: I have been there.
Hmm. “Killer” idea? Again with the subtlety. That aside, what are you thinking, Alice? I mean, why wouldn’t Tasha have been to Malibu? It’s not like you have to be rich or white to pass through it, even if those are probably requirements for actual residency. Anyway, I’m kinda with Tasha on this one: Malibu is fun to drive through in a convertible, but I wouldn’t want to live there.

Tina is surprised by Alice’s screenwriterly ambitions, but Alice admits that she’s not really in pursuit of a dream. It’s more of a lark.

Alice: I thought, how hard can it be? Right, Jenny? It’s, like, you get paid big time. Jenny: Mm hmm. Um, well, actually, Alice, if you were to amortize the payment of the 17 drafts that I did of Lez Girls, you’d see that you actually don’t get paid very much.
Yeah. Writing doesn’t always pay off. Considering how many drafts I usually write of these recaps, I’m pretty sure I’m single-handedly responsible for the giant sucking sound that is the economy.

Deprived of the banter, Bette texts Tina to ask what’s going on at her table.

Bette: [to Kit and Shane, reading Tina’s reply] Alice is writing a treatment for a script. Hope we’re not in it. Kit: Amen to that.
Jennifer Beals delivered that line like she was looking for a rim shot – and undoubtedly she knew Pam Grier could be counted on to give her one. Can we please have a few Bette/Kit scenes in this final season? They used to be so good together.

Tina tells Alice that Jenny has actually become a very good screenwriter, and encourages Alice to ask Jenny to read her treatment. Jenny and Alice both look like they’d rather dig those waffles out of the trash and eat them.

Alice: [chirpily] Sure. Sure, sure, sure … Jenny: [tightly] I would love to give you notes.
Alice turns her attention to Tasha, who is loading up on carbs for training – a bit too quickly for Alice’s taste. But Alice definitely approves of what Tasha’s wearing today. It’s Tasha’ first day at the police academy, and she’s looking very dashing indeed. As Helen Stewart might say, “Nice suit!”

Alice brags that she “dressed” Tasha and tells her Eliza Doolittle to do a little spin, but you can imagine how well that goes over. They snipe at each other about Tasha’s usual lack of sartorial effort.

Bette has texted Tina again for an update, but Tina doesn’t tell her much. The camera’s continued focus on computers and cell phones and texts is reminding me of The Departed. That entire film obviously grew out of Scorsese’s belated fascination with cell phones. Gee whiz, what cool gadgets! I guess it’s better than last week’s ode to the digital thermometer.

Tina offhandedly asks when Tasha and Alice are going to therapy.

Tasha: [furiously getting up and walking away] There’s a thing called privacy, Alice.
Bette gets wind of this via another text.
Bette: [to Shane and Kit] Uh-oh. Privacy.
Bette is many things – enigmatic, obstinate, exasperating, breathtaking – but I don’t think I’ve ever called her “cute” before now. But that was definitely cute.

Helena strolls by the door just as Tasha’s leaving, and tries to tell Tasha she “look[s] a million dollars.” But Tasha’s not really trying to hear that.

Alice: [to no one in particular] Fffahhkk, you know? Bad vibes. [to Jenny] You and Shane should work your s— out, because this place is becoming like the black hole of Calcutta.
Helena sarcastically proclaims that it’s good to see “we’re still asunder; nothing like a little dyke drama to clear the place out.” Asunder! I heart your vocabulary, Helena. Jenny must like it too: she invites Helena to sit at the martyrs’ table, but Helena refuses to take sides.
Kit: Go, Switzerland.
Snicker. I strongly suspect that Pam Grier is just making up her lines at this point, figuring nobody’s really listening anyway.

Family values to the rescue – Bette and Tina try to free everyone from the black hole of Calcutta by sharing their good news. It seems they’ve registered with three different adoption agencies, and have a good chance of expanding their family in the next six months. And to make room for the new little one, they’re starting construction on a second story. Hey, Jenny: That’s your cue to talk about yourself! You know, like every other sentence ever uttered.

Jenny: When were you going to tell me about construction? Tina: We’re telling you now. We have to; we need room for the baby. Jenny: How am I supposed to write with all that noise? Tina: I’m sorry, Jenny. We’ll do our best not to disturb you, but you might want to get some earplugs.
Sigh. It’s annoying that Jenny has let all the air out of the briefly elevated mood, but in her defense, there’s nothing worse than being surrounded by noise when you’re trying to write. It can make a person downright homicidal. Oh, wait; maybe I killed Jenny!

Jenny shuffles out, muttering that it’s going to be impossible for her to find a new roommate with all the racket next door. Shane tries to tell Jenny that she doesn’t need a new roommate, but Jenny still doesn’t see why she should even bother to talk to Shane.

Jenny: You create this trail of destruction and you don’t take any responsibility for it. Why should you be the only one that doesn’t pay? Shane: I am paying. Jenny: You are so full of s—.
Jenny exits silently. Alice calls it like she sees it: “The black hole.”

Paying – At Jenny’s house, Shane is putting in some flower boxes that Jenny has always wanted. Tom and Max stop briefly to chat. Whoa. Max, what is on your face?! He looks like a lost Gibb brother. He has the disco falsetto to go with the beard, and he’s definitely more than a woman! Jenny interrupts to ask Max to help her with her computer; there’s “something wrong” with it. But Max declines this opportunity to show off his computer search (and/or missile defense) skills. He’s on his way to his final consult before his surgery. Good luck, Max! And can I have the number of your surgeon? I want to make sure he or she shaves you everywhere while prepping you to go under the knife. I mean, just to be on the safe side.

Shaolin Studios – Tina and her co-workers are in a meeting, at which the poster for Lez Girls has just been revealed. It looks more like the cover of a Harlequin novel. Guess how thrilled Tina is?

Tina: What’s The Girls? The movie is called Lez Girls. Lez!
The poster is bad enough, but there’s also a new boy-meets-girl ending, which has already tested through the roof. Tina tries to protest the het-washing, but Aaron says flatly, “Get on board, Tina. Train’s not going to Lezzie Town.” Yeah; it’s obviously going to Crapstone or Penistone.

Another treacherous conference room – At California University, some art department bigwigs (including Phyllis) are reveling in Jodi’s public humiliation of Bette – oops, I mean they’re raving about her multimedia piece, “Core.” Apparently it’s the talk of the art world. Jodi is basking in the praise. What happened to sweet, warm, generous Jodi? I no longer recognize her.

Bette arrives. She apologizes for her tardiness and explains that she had to talk to a contractor about the baby-makes-four construction. How long will it take you to reconstruct your own dignity, Bette, now that Jodi has splattered your indiscretions all over Art Journal?

The not-so-final consult – Max is discussing his goals with his doctor. He’s been working out a lot and wants to be able to take his shirt off at the beach next year.

Max: Feel my pecs.
The doctor takes him up on that and is duly impressed. Max babbles excitedly, noting that he’s doing well with the contour but will need more chest hair to cover up the scars. (Don’t worry, Max; the brothers Gibb have plenty of that to go around.) But scars are the least of his problems.
Doctor: You’re pregnant. Max: No, I can’t be pregnant. No – I’ve been taking testosterone. Doctor: Have you had intercourse? Have you and Tom had unprotected sex? Max: Yeah, but we’ve both been tested for HIV. We’ve been monogamous. Doctor: Max, if you and Tom have had vaginal sex – I know you might not call it that, but unfortunately, that doesn’t stop it from working the same way. Taking testosterone doesn’t shut down the reproductive system.
Max. That’s awful! I truly feel terrible for you. What could be worse for you at this phase of your transition? Pretty much nothing.

But hang on a minute. This is not what I would call writing. It’s more like scrapbooking. See something interesting in the newspaper? Clip and save – better yet, paste it right into the script!

Trouble at the table – Back in the CU conference room, Tom gets a text from Max: “Call me as soon as you can.” The meeting is ending, so Tom steps away while a guy at the table asks Jodi how Dean Porter “responded” to her piece. Jodi doesn’t understand what he’s saying, so Bette steps in and signs the question.

I’ve been trying to ignore Bette’s shirt, but it simply won’t be ignored. In fact, it’s probably going to make Jodi walk the plank. Jodi pretends not to know how Bette responded to the public humiliation. She asks Bette how she liked the show. Bette tries to wrest control by ordering Jodi to meet her in her office, but Jodi shrugs and says Bette will have to make an appointment. Ouch! Again, who is this person? Clearly it’s pod!Jodi.

Everyone shuffles out, including Tom, who has briefly reentered the room to get his bag. I guess he looks a little stricken, but not nearly as freaked out as the average gay man would be upon hearing that his boyfriend is pregnant.

A lot to offer – Hoping to discuss the intractable Jodi, Bette follows Phyllis to her office. They are greeted by one very excited Joyce Wischnia in her birthday suit.

Joyce: [holding out her arms, putting on a show] Baby, when it comes down to it, this is all I have to offer you. And if you can love this – Phyllis: Joyce, cover your junk! Joyce: Sorry, Bette.
Phyllis shoos Bette away and scolds Joyce for “popping out from behind a plant buck nekkid.” So Joyce pops the question instead!
Joyce: While the law in the state of California continues to acknowledge our love, I would like to ask you to take my hand in holy matrimony.
Sigh. Damn that law in the state of California. Joyce shows Phyllis a giant ring and begs her to say yes. Trouble is, Phyllis had sworn never to marry again. At this point, my girlfriend yells, “I’ll marry you, Joyce!” And Phyllis soon echoes that, partly because Joyce has arranged for them to be married by Gavin Newsom himself. It’s too much to resist. And it’s all very sweet, until they end up jumping and giggling like little girls at a slumber party. Why? Where’s the engagement sex?

Traumatic therapy – Tasha and Alice are at Dan Foxworthy’s office. Remember him? The therapist to the stars who helped Bette and Tina? I guess everybody gets a five-minute cameo this season. Except for Dana. ‘Cause she’s dead. Nope, I’m still not over it.

Alice is monopolizing the session, speaking for an increasingly irritated Tasha. Dan Mockworthy mispronounces Tasha’s name a couple of times – the first syllable rhymes with “mosh,” not “hash,” you dummy – in the process of trying to shut Alice up and get Tasha to talk. And when Tasha does talk, she tells it like it is.

Foxworthy: Why do you think Alice told you [about the near-cheating]? Tasha: I think that she told me because she wanted to break up with me. And bringing this woman between us was the easiest way to do that. She knew how I felt; she knew that I would break up with her. And when I did, she got scared. And that’s why we’re here.
Alice shakes her head and rolls her eyes, in a way that says Tasha’s exactly right. Maybe you should have gone to the psychiatry academy instead of the police academy, Tasha.

A parallel universe version of Juno – Max is at the abortion clinic. The woman behind the desk doesn’t understand why he’s there.

Insensitive health-care professional: If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny. Max: I’m not joking, all right? I’m pregnant. IHCP: Sir, if you don’t leave now, I am going to have to call security. Max: [losing it] Look, I’m a FTM transsexual, all right?
The woman behind the desk is stunned speechless, so Max turns to the tittering women in the lobby. He blinds them with his science.
Max: Yeah, that’s right. Take a good look. I’m a man, and I’m pregnant! It happens; don’t you read the f—ing tabloids?
Careful, Max – just a couple of weeks ago, Mama Chaiken said that the show doesn’t rip from the headlines. Take it back before she kills you off!

Jenny’s house of foment – Jenny is penning yet another screenplay based on her life. This time, she’s not even changing the names. There’s a lot of noise outside, so she goes to the window. Shane is washing Jenny’s car, soaping up the chrome and rocking out to “Run Run” by Those Dancing Days. Wow, I wish Shane had betrayed me: I have a stovetop that needs scrubbing and dozens of videotapes to convert to DVD. Who knew remorse could manifest as handy around the house?

Jenny: [calling out the window] Hey, Shane, I’m trying to write.
Shane turns off the music and goes back to washing away her sins.

Bad vibes at therapy – On the therapist’s couch, Tasha and Alice are facing each other and holding hands. They’re saying things like “I promise to make room in the apartment for your things” (Alice) and “I promise to try to see things from your point of view, and to not talk to you with so much judgment” (Tasha). They giggle and smile at each other and feel very proud of themselves. So proud, they ask Dan Foxworthy for some homework.

Foxworthy: I’m not gonna give you homework. I don’t think you two should be in therapy. Tasha: That’s what I said. See? Alice: We rock. Foxworthy: You two have so little in common, I really don’t think you belong together.
In the parking garage, Alice says what we’re all thinking:
Alice: What the f—?
Make sure you read that in a hilarious, exaggerated way, ’cause that’s how she says it.

Alice wonders how Dan Foxworthy can really know anything about them after a mere 55 minutes. She and Tasha start to part ways: Alice gets into her Mini, while Tasha grabs her helmet and gets ready to get on her bike. But first she leans in to gives Alice a goodbye kiss. Goodbye? Make that hello! Suddenly they’re making out in the Mini, and it’s majorly hot.

Trouble is, it’s over too quickly. See how important capitalization is? A Mini sex scene = hot. A mini sex scene = carrus interruptus.

Life goes on – At the abortion clinic, Tom has just arrived, and Max is just leaving. They talk as they walk. It turns out Max is already four months along, so abortion isn’t an option. Wouldn’t his doctor have told him that before he made the appointment at the clinic? Once again, scrapbooking proves inferior as a means of storytelling.

Anyway, Tom can’t understand how this happened.

Tom: Why wouldn’t your doctor tell you [this was possible]? Max: I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t think I was stupid enough to let some faggot f— me.
It quickly becomes a fight, and next thing you know, Max is slamming Tom against the wall and kicking him (via his crotch) to the floor. Then they just stop and look at each other, not sure what to do with their misery.
Tom: I can’t do this, Max. I’m not ready.
Yeah, who is ready for this, really? Except for Barbara Walters, when the next Most Fascinating People special rolls around.

Making a list and checking it twice – Alice and Tasha are making a list of pros and cons, because that’s what Alice’s mother has done every time she’s found herself pondering divorce. Aw, Alice’s mother! Anne Archer, can you please make one more guestbian appearance?

Alice tells Tasha to clear the desk. If only Tasha would clear the desk and then push Alice onto it, instead of sitting down to help Alice roll out some paper. Sigh. Another L Word episode, another wasted opportunity for lady lovin’.

Alice puts “Pro” and “Con” columns on a couple of sheets of paper. Look at Alice’s enviable office supplies – vast sheets of paper, squeaky markers. My girlfriend has a penchant for such things too, and it’s definitely adorkable.

But Tasha isn’t so happy with those markers:

Tasha: Why “Con” gotta be black, though? Alice: It’s not a race thing. It’s just, um … red is happy. Red is, like, “pro.” Tasha: No, red represents the devil. Alice: [after a moment] Fine. I’m writing down “color weirdness.”
See how they make pros out of the cons? Sweet. Also sweet is the music in this scene, “Great DJ” by the Ting Tings.

Another set of provocations – Tina and Bette are at an art show. Bette finds it uneven, while Tina declares one piece “weird.” Then the talk turns to the business side. Bette notes that she would have “killed” to have had such a nice space when she had her own gallery. (Damn you, Season 6, for making me hypersensitive to words like “killed”!)

And then Bette asks a colleague about the gallerist. Her name is Kelly Wentworth; she’s a rich divorcée; and she’s right there to overhear the conversation about her. She introduces herself to Bette, and Bette begins to make the usual small talk.

Kelly: You really don’t remember me? Bette: [recognition dawning] Juicy f—in Freemont?! Jeezus!
They embrace and delight in each other. It seems Kelly “Juicy” Freemont was Bette’s college roommate. I don’t care how long it’s been – don’t you think you’ll always recognize past roommates? Even if you wish you could block them from your memory?

So let’s see … I wonder why Kelly’s nickname is “Juicy”? If Max the Lost Bee Gee were in this scene, he might sing a line from “You Should Be Dancin’” – “She’s juicy and she’s trouble.”

Tina seems to be thinking that very thing as Bette and Kelly reminisce and flirt. Beleaguered Mama T is standing by with a “Surely she’ll introduce me soon” look on her face – several variations on that theme, actually. Laurel is genius in this scene. Bette finally remembers she’s not a youth on the prowl:

Bette: Oh, God, I’m sorry; this is Tina Kennard, my partner. Tina: [brightly] Hello. Kelly: [shaking Tina’s hand but focused on Bette] Still gay, eh, Porter? Bette: Yeah, well, I lack imagination in some areas. Kelly: [pointedly] Not many.
But at least Kelly doesn’t disregard Tina altogether:
Kelly: Did you tell Tina about you and me? Bette: Uh … well, I told her that you let me kiss you once, and you were so seized by a deep and abiding homosexual panic that you moved out of the house immediately. Kelly: She got over me in two minutes. Bette: Ten.
Sigh. OK, they have a lot of chemistry, no doubt because Beals and Berkley are friends in real life. But why must we do this whole Bette-is-tempted thing again? An affair simply can’t happen, partly because it seems like she and Tina are finally getting their groove back, and partly because Bette and Kelly’s couple name would be “Belly.” Good band name; terrible story line.

Tina comments on a nearby piece, mostly to encourage Kelly to look at something other than Bette. But Kelly and Bette can’t tear themselves away; they indulge in a little more self-conscious banter and a pinkie shake – what? They’re close enough to have a secret handshake, and yet Bette didn’t recognize her?! Finally, Bette and Tina stroll on, leaving Kelly to let her eyes linger on Bette as she goes.

List-o-rama – Alice and Tasha are still working on their list, which has now spilled onto the floor. It includes cute things like “A ÔÖÑs T’s bun(s)” and serious things like “We don’t say ‘I love you’ anymore.” Eeek. You don’t? That makes me sad. They realize that there are “way more cons than pros,” so they decide to institute a point system. Tasha explains that “Doesn’t cook with pepper EVER” shouldn’t be weighted as heavily as “Makes me want to be a better person.” (Both of those were directed from Tasha to Alice, if you couldn’t tell.)

Tasha: And then, “is spontaneous” – I’ll just pick that one ’cause I really appreciate that about you – Alice: [spanks Tasha playfully] Likes to get spanked. [pointing to the list]
There’s that Tasha-licious laugh again! Alice adds a 9-point pro – “T is smart” – and declares that “The pros are totally winning now.” That’s the beauty of listmaking, right? It helps you figure out what you really want the list to indicate. Just like flipping a coin or shaking a magic 8-ball.

But back to Tasha and Alice. The way they’re smiling at each other, I think that list might soon witness a make-out session. Hey, how is it possible that this scene was not accompanied by “Kiss on My List“? Oh, right: I know how that’s possible. Rhymes with “wheezy hurl.”

The gallery of confrontation – Bette and Tina are getting ready to leave. They say farewell to Kelly, which of course leads to more grins and thinly veiled flirting. Kelly has just given some artist dude her card, which prompts Bette to give her some advice:

Kelly: We have to make a plan. Lunch, dinner, whatever … I really want to pick that brain of yours. Bette: Yeah, well, the first thing I would tell you is not to sign artists that you want to f—. Kelly: [looking past Bette to another part of the gallery] That comes from firsthand experience?
Bette and Tina turn around to see what Kelly is looking at. Yep, it’s Jodi, surrounded by fans and accompanied by her new girlfriend.
Bette: [to Tina] Do you mind? Tina: No, I think you should.
So Bette marches over to Jodi and asks for – make that demands – a moment of her time. Jodi makes a big show of kissing her new girlfriend in front of Bette. Again, this is not the character I used to like. I get that she may be incredibly angry at Bette – who, admittedly, is settling back into her life with Tina at a pace that must be giving Jodi whiplash – but still, I didn’t think Jodi had a vengeful bone in her body. Let alone a grandstanding, merciless one.

Anyway, Bette has found it impossible to make an appointment with Jodi. She pulls rank on her.

Bette: Do you realize that you report to me? And that if I ask to see you, then you make it happen. Jodi: I don’t report to you, Bette. I don’t report to anyone. Bette: You have until tomorrow. Jodi: Or what?
Bette isn’t one to dole out empty threats, but I’m not sure I want to know she has in mind. How do you get revenge for a public exposé-via-art, exactly? Reclaim that “17 Reasons Why” sign and add “I hate you” to it, plus a mustachioed picture of Jodi? Actually, that sounds fun, when you think about how delightful the last sign-stealing caper was. Let’s do it!

Bette and Jodi have been having this conversation near a glass wall. Is there a “glass houses” hint here? Never mind; on the other side of the panes, Tina and Kelly are having a conversation that’s less direct but not much less dangerous. Kelly is describing Bette’s playful college career. Apparently the ladies were drawn to Bette like “moths to a flame.” Before Tina can get the details, Bette interrupts and asks Tina if she’s ready to leave. Well, I know I am!

The Hit club – Hey, look: that go-go dancer is wearing Mango shorts. Nearby – this time through a veil of beads instead of glass panes, because we mustn’t be allowed to see anything clearly in this episode – Alice is grousing about how boring Kit and Helena are, with their goody-two-shoe, all-business ways.

Kit: Well, that’s what you gotta do, to keep your sanity, and … not to mention your shirt on, in this business.
Keep your shirt on? Did you maybe mean just, “keep your sanity, not to mention your shirt”? Oh, Kit. Thank you for filling the malaprop void, now that Dubya has left the White House.

Helena insists that she’s not a complete monk; she even has sex sometimes. Cue the appearance of one of the people with whom she used to have the aforementioned sex. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you: that’s really Dylan (Alexandra Hedison) on the dance floor. And once again, Alice speaks for us all:

Alice: What the f—?
Tasha can’t believe that “that girl” – who is currently “the filling in a lesbo sandwich,” as Alice puts it – ever used to be straight. Yeah, we didn’t believe it either, during Season 3. But we also didn’t believe Dana would actually die, so there you go.

Kit asks Helen whether she’s OK. Helena pretends to be unfazed.

Alice: But that’s the woman who extorted you for sexually harassing her! Kit: Alice! What is wrong with you? Alice: I’m just sayin’. Of all the gin joints in all the world.
I guess that’s what you get for having a Casablanca theme at your club.

Exile in guyville – Max is all alone in his studio, playing some sort of first-person shooter and hating the world. Tom quietly slips in. Uh, sorry; I swear I didn’t originally intend any innuendo there! Anyway, he’s been calling Max.

Max: I know. My phone broke.
Tom finds the phone on the floor, in pieces. He apologizes for the way he reacted earlier, then kneels down next to Max and gets serious:
Tom: What do you think about having the baby? Max: F— off. Tom: Don’t you wanna be a couple of West Hollywood fag dads? Max: [halting, vulnerable] I don’t know. I don’t know if I can handle this. Tom: We can handle it. We can. We both make a decent living. We love each other; we’ve said we wanna spend our lives together.
You did? Why didn’t we get to see or hear any of these declarations of everlasting love? Never mind that: when did you two turn into Legolas and Gimli? We never got to hear their declarations of love either, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t soulmates.

The scene ends with apologies and a hug:

Max: Sorry I kicked you in the balls. Tom: Sorry I knocked you up.
Awww. Gimli + Legolas 4-evah!

Keeping the home fires burning – Tina and Bette are getting ready for bed and mocking Kelly. Correction: Tina is mocking Kelly, and Bette is playing along. But she has her limits:

Tina: While you were talking to Jodi, [Kelly] asked me if you were still a player. Bette: I was never a player. Tina: That’s not what Kelly said.
Kelly also said she’s sorry she didn’t take Bette up on that offer all those years ago. Tina is good-natured about it all, and didn’t even tell Kelly that Bette is off the market. She knows Bette needs to flirt:
Tina: It feeds you. You feed off people wanting you. And they do want you. For you, it’s … it’s like blood to a vampire. Bette: [grabbing Tina playfully] So now I’m a vampire? Tina: I love you. I don’t want to deprive you of something that’s so fundamental to who you are. Bette: You need to trust that I know who I am, and I know what to do with it. Tina: I don’t know what that means.
Fair point. That was kinda funny, but Tina is about to stop caring what it means.
Bette: [reaching under Tina’s dress] It means that everyone else can f— off, because I only want you.
Tina! Why were you hiding all that muscle definition under that diaphanous gown?

I don’t really want to draw any shipping lines in the sand, but I do still think that TiBette scenes are the hottest. By a mile or a light year or so.

A beating at the Hit club – Alice can’t stop staring at Dylan. Well, staring isn’t quite right; I think you could call it “looking daggers.” Suddenly Alice stands up from her table and takes a few steps toward the dance floor. Those hanging beads might as well be saloon doors – you can practically hear the spurs jangling on Alice’s boots.

Alice: [to Tasha] Are you with me? Tasha: What? What are we doing? Alice: Get my back.
Woo! As they strut over to the “lesbo sandwich,” Tasha asks what Dylan did to Helena.
Alice: I’ll tell you in a minute. Right now, I wanna tell her where she gets off messin’ with my friend. [to herself] I’m gonna tell her. This is me telling her.
Alice hits Dylan with one of those chest-bump-slash-shove things. Dylan is surprised, to say the least.
Dylan: Alice! Alice: [throwing her hands up in a “bring it on” way] Hi, Dylan. [getting in Dylan’s face] Really. Really? Dylan: Excuse me? Alice: I mean, come on, the hair. The hair … and the documentaries! Dylan: Um, I … Alice: It’s … like … my … not! Gay??!!
If that sounds incoherent and strangled, that’s because it is. In the most hilarious way imaginable. Leisha! I always say funny is sexy – well, this is so good, it’s funnilingus.

Helena approaches and says hello.

Alice: Ha! That’s a good one. Good one. I got this.
Tasha drags Alice away so that Helena and Dylan can have a more comprehensible conversation. On their way back to the table, Alice summarizes the Helena-Dylan story line for Tasha.
Alice: OK, so basically, that skankball Dylan Moreland almost ruined Helena’s life. First, she pretended to be in love with her, OK, so she and her boyfriend could sue her for sexual harassment and extort millions of dollars from her.
Cut back to the bar, where Dylan is insisting that she didn’t even know this was Helena’s club.
Dylan: I heard that this was the best girl club in L.A. Helena: And you were looking for a girl club. A lesbian girl club.
Dylan credits Helena with “helping” her with that whole thing. She tries to tell Helena how sorry she is, but Helena pretends not to care about any of it. She sips her Pellegrino and looks around as if she’s waiting in line at Starbucks. She gives Dylan a perfectly hospitable hostess line – “Stay, enjoy! Be with your friends” – and waltzes away. Dylan looks miserable, which is really only fair.

Over at the table, Alice is still recapping for Tasha, even though Tasha was definitely around for some of these plot points.

Alice: So her mother gets so mad, she cuts Helena off so that she has to come live with me and become a cook. Helena: [who has returned to her seat] I was a caterer. Alice: Which was a disaster. And let’s face it: Helena is used to a certain standard of living. So she meets this shady high-roller lady. They hook up, but she uses Helena and takes all her money. And when Helena takes it back – and we still don’t know where she buried it – she gets arrested and has to share a cell with some killer. Helena: She was in for tax fraud. Alice: Fine. So her mother can’t take it anymore. She bails Helena out, but she doesn’t want to live under her mother’s thumb anymore. So she springs Dusty from jail, they go to Tahaa, which she doesn’t ever want to talk about, so it couldn’t have been that great, right? Helena: Right. Alice: And her mother gets stung by a jellyfish. All because of this woman.
I can’t believe I typed all that up. I think I was just refreshing my own memory; plus, it’s pretty unbelievable when you see it all written out like that – both the lines and the story lines they summarize.

Tasha sums it all up, as usual:

Tasha: You want me to kick her ass? Helena: No. Thank you. Tasha: You’re a better person than me. I’d have to beat a bitch down, she tried to do that s— to me.
Helena leaves the table then, and misses the best line of the episode:
Alice: And don’t get me started on the kids, ’cause where did they go?
Yeah! Where did … uh, what were their names again? Right: Jun Ying and Wilson. Actually, where do any of the kids on this show ever disappear to? We haven’t heard anything about Angelica’s terrible cold, and I’m pretty sure Shay will never be seen again. There’s a special place in heaven for L Word kids.

The Hit club parking lot – While we were all reliving the past, Helena has followed Dylan out to the parking lot, presumably to try to put the past to rest. She slams Dylan against a car – wow, she really did learn a lot in prison! – and screams at Dylan for manipulating her and using her and destroying her life. Yeah! It ends with a very satisfying “F— you.” But Dylan calls after Helena, forcing her to turn around for one more manipulation:

Dylan: Thank you. Now I know you care.
That makes one of us.

The inevitable – Shane tries once again to enter her own home, but Jenny has put the chain on. It doesn’t matter: Shane’s tired of doing penance.

Shane: I need my stuff. Open the door.
And Jenny does. Shane ignores her and packs her things. And you know what happens next, right? Ignoring Jenny is the surest way to get her to pay attention to you.
Jenny: So that’s it? You’re done trying? Shane: I’m out. I don’t see the point with you anymore.
Anymore? What, now? Not in, like, Season 2? What have you been doing, Shane, that so thoroughly distracted you from Jenny’s giant jumble of traumas and dramas? I guess I should ask “who” you’ve been doing, and I guess we already know all about that. Still. Whatever your merits and flaws, you clearly have the patience of a saint.

Jenny shows her cards:

Jenny: Shane, you know that it was you, right? When I said that “you broke my heart,” I was talking about you.
I don’t think Shane knew that, no. In this next picture, it might look like she’s getting ready to brush her teeth, but she’s really just trying to reassemble her blown mind. It can be hard to tell the difference: dental hygiene or mental obliteration?

Jenny: You know, when I said it, I felt like my heart was breaking.
Oh, so that’s why you said she broke your heart! I totally didn’t catch your meaning.

Shane carefully emerges from the bathroom, clearly not sure which minor demon lies in wait.

Shane: I tried to tell you all week how sorry I am. [simply] I’m not ever gonna hurt you like that again. Jenny: I also realized that I’m in love with you. [shrugging] Now I’m like all those stupid girls.
There it is. We all knew it was coming, but I was holding out hope that they would remain BFFs instead, because I really, really liked them that way. They brought out the best in each other. Now I fear they’re just going to bring out the beast in each other.

Shane stops for a minute to absorb the news, then takes Jenny in her arms and kisses her. My eyes! My brain! The very core of my being! If only Alice were here to say it: “What the f—?” I’m sorry – I know there are a lot of Shenny fans out there. But I can’t help it: Shenny squicks me.

One more thing – Let’s pause for a moment to ponder the title of this episode: “Least Likely.” Least likely to … what? Succeed, as in Tasha and Alice? Stay faithful, as in Bette? Get pregnant, as in Max? Get married again, as in Phyllis? Have a serious dramatic career, as in Elizabeth Berkley? Or – and here I’m just reaching – least likely to make any kind of sense at all, as in Shenny?

I don’t know. After the whirlwind that was this episode, I think I’m probably the least likely to figure any of it out. What was the question, again?

Next time on The L Word: Lez Girls hits another road bump; Alice takes on homophobia; Jodi and Bette face off; the Shenny cat is out of the bag.

Lesbian Apparel and Accessories Gay All Day sweatshirt -- AE exclusive

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Back to top button