Sam and Ivy wonder if, post unseasonably warm workshop, the show is dead. They’re both determined to be stiff-upper-lippy for each other, though. Cut to Julia, who has no need lie to herself or others, taking to her bed and moaning that the show is dead. Frank assures her that it was just a first step; it’s a long, long way to Broadway! He fires up the Xbox and strums some “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” Ugh, Frank, really? Even infidelity doesn’t deserve the Cocktail soundtrack. Besides, it’s Rock Band – Floyd’s “The Show Must Go On” would have earned you more points. Continue reading
Michael and Julia meet on the street outside the rehearsal hall and share a heavily laden look as they clasp hands. New York may be a city where you can get lost in the faceless masses, but not so much right outside the place where you work. Derek and Eileen walk up and Julia and Michael quickly pretend to be debating the merits of going off script. Continue reading
Ivy primps in front of her mirror and does a breathy run through of “Let Me Be Your Star” before her voice cracks. Derek, asleep in the bed behind her, harkens at the first sound of pitchiness. Ivy assures Derek she’s fine and they snuggle.
At the rehearsal hall, Julia attempts to rearrange scenes like a harried florist with a particularly recalcitrant Rhododendron. Derek harrumphs that it’s a musical, dammit, not a high school science project (which is a good thing; I don’t think Julia could even get a Chia pet to sprout at this point) and Julia counters that it’s a workshop, and a first workshop at that. Derek is baffled at Julia’s naiveté and points out that it’s a workshop investors are coming to see, and there’s no discernible story for 25 pages. (I, myself, would have called that a teen-baiting homage to Twilight, but something tells me Derek’s not a fan.) Continue reading
Eileen calls her assistant to go over her calendar and finds out that he now works for Jerry. Yeah, that’s beyond awkward. Jerry’s grabbing at anything he can take from her – soon she’ll have nothing left but her knock-off Marilyn earrings and a Degas she’ll have to go Nick Jonas’s apartment to see. Continue reading
Karen makes an awe-eyed, 360-angle entrance to the rehearsal hall for her first real, live Broadway workshop. To paraphrase Pulp Fiction, some workshops get produced and become off-Broadway shows. Some don’t, and become nothing. Hopefully Karen isn’t performing in one of the ones that become nothing. The ensemble chorus/dancers eye-roll and tongue-cluck over Karen’s “All-County Craft Fair and Gun Show Queen” resume – apparently “State Fair” is only de rigueur during a Rodgers & Hammerstein showcase. Michael is excited, too, and tells Julia he thinks things are going to be fine and she’s quick to agree that yes, they’re both adults and can be cool about this. A musical beat, and then Michael tells her he meant the workshop. Burn. Julia blinks rapidly and deflects that with enough “great, great, SO great” that she’s only a bad perm and a gay best friend (oh, wait) away from vintage Grace Adler. Continue reading
The cold open is anything but as Derek choreographs Ivy in some horizontal mambo (that’s right – I said mattress dancin’!). Well, he’s detail oriented; he’s only checking her lung capacity. Ivy sings his scales – so to speak, I’m sure there was all manner of humming and lip rolls and tongue trills involved – but when she wants to get together sometime and watch Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, or maybe have Derek listen to her read passages aloud from Legend: Marilyn Monroe or even just sit and stare wistfully at that Boulevard of Broken Dreams print, Derek reveals himself to be anything but a gentleman as he smirks and says that he considers their continuing romps between the sheets Marilyn 101. Oh, Ivy, you’ve been reading the essential Marilyn: you should have known [Broadway] is a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss and fifty cents for your soul. Continue reading
Jesus serves up eggs and sympathy to ‘Lafayette’ and tells his unusually sass-free boyfriend that he understands he may have pulled Lafayette into the whole magical craziness before he was ready, and that if Lafayette wants to live a magic-free life, Jesus is open to that. Apparently uncertain whether a “Hookah, please!” would be apropos at this juncture, Marnie stays silent, but she did put on a stunning silk wrapper I’m sure Lafayette would have approved. Jesus leans in to kiss Lafayette goodbye, and as his lips brush ‘Lafayette’s’ cheek, he feels a disturbance in his juju and pulls back with an uncertain, “Lafayette?” Before Jesus can question further, Marnie stabs him the hand with a fork, the tines still dripping egg yolk! Oh, that’s just ptomaine waiting to happen, y’all.
Eric, Pam, Jessica and Bill, still lined up by height like a grade school chorus, lockstep their way toward Moon Goddess. Marnie spies with her little eye something that starts with V and toting automatic weapons. Sookie informs Marnie that if they don’t get out, the vamps are gonna blow them all to hell, or at least Shreveport. Marnie tosses a dagger into the ubiquitous candle circle and tells them they can all leave any time they want, good luck getting past the vamps! Casey, one of the twitchier witchlings, launches herself at Marnie in rage and Marnie magicks the dagger into Casey’s chest with a smug smile.
Melee ensues at the Rally for Tolerance as Antonia and Sparky Witchling join hands and start to Latinate. Eric jumps Bill and gets ready to get head cracky with death, but Sookie jumps Eric like she’s going for one last ride on his longboat. Sookie is wearing a heart print sweater that came straight out of my grade school closet circa 1982 (I know y’all are reading for the sex and death, but color commentary is my forte). Bill shoots Eric, and since that felt so good, he starts to shoot the hell out of everyone else. Sookie begs Bill not to shoot Eric again (he just winged him the first time) and then commands Eric not to let Antonia control him. Eric tells her to go home like she’s his annoying kid sister and then aims to stake Bill with a giant piece of set dressing. Sookie yells ‘No more!’ and throws a double-handed whammy of glowy fairy power at Eric. Antonia feels the control connection break and Eric gets his memories back in a super fast Viking-gory-Sookie-sex montage.
Alcide runs from the cemetery with Sookie in his arms like they’re Rhett and Scarlett running from the burning of Atlanta. Faster than a speeding…Bill…Sookie is snatched out of Alcide’s arms as Bill vamp-speeds her into her house. He bites his wrist and gives it to her to drink as he apologizes for letting her come to the détente. Alcide enters and asks why, exactly, Bill allowed that, but Bill is just looking for some werewolf STFU right now. Sookie isn’t able to drink and she barely has a pulse. Alcide asks if there’s anything else they can do and Bill says they can pray. “Werewolf and vampire? Who’s gonna listen?” Alcide asks dispiritedly and a pain-faced Bill is sure he doesn’t know. Too bad Bill wasn’t more detail-oriented on making sure he got all of the vampire denizens of Bon Temps rounded up; Beulah’s curlers and housecoat had Pentecostal prayer-warrior written all over them. Continue reading