One more episode till season’s end, and the crew members (well, except for Lou — in a good way!) suddenly must get in touch with their sensitive sides, which makes us squirmy. Franco can’t bring himself to box after the melee at the lesbo match (“It brings out the worst in people”); Mikey must face the fact that his singing pretty much sucks (but not until Damian valiantly quits the band, too); and Tommy is about to ratchet another notch on his Widow Belt. When Garrity’s talking (still) about the color of his penis is the only real comic relief, we know things are Getting Serious. (Speaking of which: What, now that his cancer’s gone, Sean falls out of the plots? Sigh.) We’re sure the focus will be on Mr. Gavin next week, in the wake of Ellie’s probably fatal drunken car crash, so we’ll turn our attention to the supporting cast for now.
To Tommy: “You got yourself good and shit-faced, jumped into bed with whatever piece of ass was sniffing at your crotch. You got no respect for the family, no thought for anything but you. And now I gotta deal with Colleen … You’re a selfish, one-way goddamned asshole.”
After whipping out his best Chicken Soup for the Soul to talk a lightweight Bernie Madoff off a (literal) ledge, Black Shawn is waxing philosophical on many things: Tommy’s failings as a father, his fears about what Colleen expects of him (due to aforementioned Tommy failings), his dead brother … Thank goodness it all ends in an amusing moment of hugging and “sway-age.” And then Shawn joked about proposing to Colleen at episode’s end. Can we expect that next week?
To Tommy: “I’ve reconsidered us … Let’s face it. We’re a little too old for that. Well, you are.”
While we grit our teeth hearing yet another comparison of Tommy to David Bowie (no one sees it, Denis. Sorry), Maura Tierney continues being fabulous, forgetting Damian’s name, almost forgetting Tommy’s, and revealing what we had suspected was in her box o’ mysteries all along: a picture of a dead child! Awkward hugging ensues. We’re now wondering whether the choice between Sheila and Janet isn’t really a choice at all, now that Tommy had a new female channel for his grief.
To Candy: “At least I have my Hei-man! Intact!”
Spurred by what appears to have been nothing more than a nagging sense of impending doom, Lou finally does a little homework on Candy — or should we say Barbara Callahan, con artist extraordinaire! Lou appears to have pretty sound proof that his blushing bride never changed her ways, though her angry “This is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made” is making us vaguely nervous for Lou and his new possessions (including O.J.’s Heisman-with-a-letter-missing Trophy).