Wednesday, February 1, 2012

You’re a Vegetable

Yesterday Afternoon: TV recaps aren’t going to become a regular feature here—for one, there is a proliferation of them elsewhere on the internet, many quite good; beyond that I recognize that I think too much about TV to begin with, and I’m trying not to let it over-colonize my brain even in these empty days of unemployment. I want to make it clear that I’ll make every effort not to keep this blog too single-minded. But tonight’s Michael Jackson episode of Glee seems, somewhat self-evidently, kind of special. By marrying two polarizing properties (to obviously different degrees of severity and on totally different stratospheres of pop dominance), they have effected a centrality in the present cultural buzz-meter that’s not to be trifled with.

To begin though, I should note that I wrote a piece about Glee last year, and I won’t reiterate my general feelings on the show expressed there. Needless to say, I’ve kept watching—now, even worse, usually on actual TV as it airs—and the progression of this viewing habit is concomitant with my plummeting sense of self-worth. I announced on Facebook post-viewing a couple weeks ago, after quoting one of the episode’s more insane punchlines—a “hip” pun about African-American reparations vis-à-vis swimming stereotypes (I won’t retype it here, you’re welcome)—that I felt like cutting my eyes out. That reaction captures the endpoint of my viewership’s evolution: I feel as though I deserve some Greek tragedy-style punishment for supporting this fucking show in whatever small, cosmic way I do. I won’t mince words here: it’s a drug. I’m addicted. Nothing can be done other than my hitting rock bottom. And, as I sit here at zero-four hours to airtime, I’m thinking tonight could be the night.

As I anticipate this episode, it seems important to recall that they’ve already done at least one Thriller classic on the show, the effervescent “PYT,” (and, further research tells me, another number I can’t recall on the last Sectionals episode) and it was actually killer—one of the smoothest, most genuinely enjoyable musical moments they’ve ever done and one that, not coincidentally, featured two of the most sidelined characters. As I intimated in 2011, it’s astronomically easier to count the hits than the misses here. The halting, tinny, and otherwise trying-too-hard numbers on Glee make for sorry evidence of its thesis that the performing arts are a necessary transcendence in the lives of youngsters. Part of the magic of Michael was the way he married the wonderfully accessible songwriting of his funky pop with an effortless, consummate performance: perfection without perfectionism. We didn’t need to see him belting the notes into flamboyant runs or even, despite his legendary footwork, flinging himself around the stage like a… well, a student trying to impress. I’m guessing Glee’s penchant for choreographic and compositional overindulgence will take it over the top of bearability within a matter of minutes. But we’ll see…


Later that Evening:
o      They don’t waste any time: no “so here’s what you missed,” and less than a minute into the ep Blaine jumps into “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’”. Of course, the truncated cover misses the point of the six-minute original’s brilliant, jittery drone, but what are you going to do.

o      Uh oh, the Warblers want to do Michael for sectionals. Here we segue awkwardly into the “Bad” homage as Shue writes “WWMJD” on the blackboard. Let the deification begin. “He would fight back,” Finn says. I imagine he’d probably either sue or ignore it and buy a carousel, but okay. The “Bad” scene, by the way, might be the gayest thing Glee has ever done. Think about what I just said.

o      Now the power of Michael has caused Artie to get up out of his wheelchair (yes) and strut with Mike into the “Scream” video. They smear eye shadow on Mike in order to Janet Jacksonify him, yet again (re: season one’s “Single Ladies” football riff) expressing their confusion of “future-chic pop star” with “perverse androgyne”. Incidentally, this was the pair of characters in last season’s “PYT”—this one’s a little more labored, of course, being a shot-for-shot of the most expensive music video ever made.

o      As the hour wears on, I find myself watching each dramatic scene while hardly listening to the dialogue except to anticipate what cover is coming next. A tense heart-to-heart with Quinn and Rachel: “Human Nature”? “The Way You Make Me Feel”? No, it’s “Never Can Say Goodbye”. Hey, what a terrible, distracting format. It makes me yearn for regular Glee, which is a horrifying sentence to type. These tribute Gleepisodes are the devil.

o      Why didn’t they just ditch the useless through-plot about a dirty slushie or whatever—it’s distracting, and irrelevant to the MJ theme they’re shoving down our throats to begin with.

o      Okay, this “Human Nature” duet is actually pretty good. For one, they’ve made the relationship between blonde hunk Sam and plus-sized diva Mercedes touching and playful and believable as a high school fling, and somehow avoided the patronizing and smug racial humor you’d expect from this show. The faux-acoustic cover is unambitious and comfortable in its schmaltz. (*Gasp*, just like the original!) Also, they actually bothered to design, block and edit a performance that’s not just a remake of an extant music video you’d rather be watching.  This is the stripped-down, warm, sweet spot of performance and interpretation that I’ve been hoping for.

o      Holy shit, did I actually see Mr. Schue teaching Spanish for half a second? This is the first time in, I think, two seasons?

o      “Ben” is always a weird song sung out of context, isn’t it?

o      Santana and the gay Warbler villain have a, um, song duel to “Smooth Criminal” featuring battling cellos. Is this scene super gay, or super-duper gay? At the end they acknowledge that song duels are not a real thing and Santana gets slushied.

o      What are they trying to say, making the Michael Jackson episode the gayest goddamn hour of the series? (And the most nega-deleteriously so, solidifying Sebastian as a queer baddie in the classic tradition. Furthermore, earlier said deification has reached absurd levels by the end: “If Michael had went after all the haters, he wouldn’t have had time to make all that amazing music.” They’re trying too hard, as usual, to deflect the gigantic weirdness of Michael Jackson that is semiotically implicit in the man/subject, and it’s just making me dwell on it even more. It’s never been clearer that the Glee company is a sea of Yes Men. (Further example: Santana’s repetition of “underboob” two or possibly three times in the final scene. It has to be funny eventually!)

o      Oh my God, I just realized there was no Sue Sylvester this episode. What does it mean? More importantly, being that she is the worst and most irrelevant character on the program (despite popular opinion that designates Shue as such—what fun we Glee fans have), what does it mean that this wasn’t the series’ all-time best episode? Is it… beyond saving? God, I could just, after all, stop watching. Oh, but Finn and Rachel are getting married, and it’s almost Valentine’s Day and Sam and Mercedes and Blaine is adorable and Jeff Goldblum is playing Rachel’s gay dad and and and andddddddddd


Next week on Glee: It’s Ricky Martin as… another Spanish teacher? I’m stunned at the prospect of further acknowledgement that there is supposed to be kind of a real school that teaches things at the center of this irresponsible egomania-promoting fantasy. Is he singing Enrique Iglesias? Is that... okay with everyone? Also Sue is back and has a wacky scheme or something who cares

No comments:

Post a Comment