Last night's episode left us feeling like dirty, no-good little voyeurs who don't deserve Mary-Louise Parker or a TV show that, in its second-to-last episode of the season, suddenly went from good to kind of great. It went, to put it another way, from soap opera to wash-your-mouth-out-with-soap, and we loved every Catholic-guilt- inducing minute of it. Okay, maybe we were beaten into submission. How could you not beg for more of what this show so gratuitously gave us: Nancy cuddling on a decidedly un-cuddly-looking conference table with Sullivan (who ravaged her at the end of last week), then yanking tissues from a box to clean herself up and embark on the walk of shame. There are more examples, but we'll just let that one … soak in.
What else? Doug, raging against the city council that's shutting him out, responds to an admonishment to watch his mouth with a full-throated and for us totally cathartic “Fuck you!” then proceeds cast aspersions on people's ankles. In the half-hour's most blatant evocation of sexual dominance and repression, Celia straps hubby Dean to his wheelchair, kicks it over, and stomps on his balls. (He, in turn, promises to give up info on Aguatecture, the weed-growing front; Celia herself was dominated when she stopped by there and was shown the door — after asking the black women working the desk, “Where's your owner?” It offends on so many levels!) Even the up-until-now totally underused Mary-Kate Olsen gets in on the action: Her character coldly (and, shall we say, quite convincingly) tells boyfriend Silas that they'll “dialogue” later when he objects to her taking off for a date with another guy.
And the main plot point satisfied, too: Peter's ex-wife and Nancy's almost BFF, impatient for her share of Peter's life-insurance award, sics a PI on Nancy. When the PI discovers the drug operation and blackmails Nancy, she records him admitting to the illegal wiretaps — then gives him the ex-wife's money! And informs the ex-wife that she screwed herself! And tells her in no uncertain terms that she does not need any friends! Doug, can we get an eff you? —Nick Catucci