I just love lifelong learning, don’t you? This episode taught me that Halloween in Derry is a very, very big deal. There’s at least one parade! (And it’s nonsectarian, unlike those terrifying Orangemen marches!) Costume parties! Group costumes! Flirtation! Kissing! Okay, it all falls apart into family tragedy, but we’re going to enjoy what’s enjoyable while it lasts. There’ll be time enough for crying later.
After the zippiness and structural high-flying of the high school reunion episode, this one approaches its narrative and themes at a more measured pace. Not that there’s any downtick in joke density, it’s just a more straightforward bit of storytelling. The wains have their hearts set on attending a Halloween night Fatboy Slim concert, and Sarah has her heart set on getting Gerry to break off her accidental engagement to Ciaran. Do you remember when I said that everyone around poor, sensible Gerry insists on resorting to the most complicated solutions to their problems? It’s happening again!
Let’s back up just a tad, though, to gain an understanding of how Sarah came to be accidentally engaged to Ciaran. Having only ever received (and then very happily accepted) one offer of marriage in adulthood, I admit I struggle to grasp this concept, but it seems that when you combine one supremely courtly lovestruck fellow with one rigorously self-involved gal, the result can 100 percent be an unexpected invitation to an engagement party where only one party is at all aware of the engagement. Even famed accidental fiancé Bertie Wooster could never!
See, Ciaran was driving Sarah home from her exercise class and chose that moment to ask if she’d do him the honor of accepting a ring from him. Said ring has its flaws — “it rules out red [nail polish], for a start” — but it is a lovely oval sapphire set with diamonds all around, sort of a normal-sized version of Princess Diana’s (and now Princess Catherine’s) engagement ring. And he did offer it to her in its lovely little red box. But you’ll notice that he did not ask Sarah to marry him in those exact words. She graciously accepted the ring, but her understanding of its significance diverges sharply from Ciaran’s. And she can’t attend the engagement party, regardless, because she’s got tickets to see ABBA tribute act Björn Again that evening.
Extremely conflict-averse and in need of maximum time to apply full faces of makeup to herself and Mary for their Halloween night out, Sarah just can’t add one more thing to her social calendar. If her Da broke the news to Ciaran, he might well end the conversation by throwing the poor confused guy out the nearest window, so it’s got to be Gerry who does it. This is his reward for being the most reasonable person in the family.
Ciaran can’t quite believe what he’s hearing until Sarah arrives downstairs in her costume, a full traditional nun’s habit. Not just the veil and unfussy blouse-and-skirt Sister Michael usually wears, but the entire ensemble: cap, wimple, tunic, scapular, the whole megillah. As it were! Ciaran immediately assumes that Sarah has received a calling to religious life and he would never stand in the way of that. Heartbroken, he excuses himself, quietly weeping as he leaves the house.
Of course, Sarah’s habit — and Mary’s, too, as we see her practically float down the stairs — is both her Halloween costume and the genuine article. Sister Michael and her colleagues rent their habits out every Halloween as a (probably) sacreligious side-hustle, and because they’re in such high demand, they can charge top rates for the privilege. As his daughters leave the house, Joe looks on fondly, perhaps thinking about an alternate timeline where both became nuns.
Then Gerry answers the phone. His face switches at once from inquisitive to stricken, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves about this sad news.
Several weeks earlier, the wains are excitedly anticipating the best Halloween ever. This year, Fatboy Slim — “he’s a modern-day Beethoven! Except good!” — will be playing Derry on Halloween night. In line for tickets at the record shop, they figure out their all-important group costume, and not a moment too soon: Poundsaver is already out of glitter!
After they settle on going as a bunch of angels, à la Claire Danes in Romeo + Juliet, Michelle encourages Clare to flirt with the cute shop assistant Laurie, who is also “a lezzie.” The wee lesbian objects to Michelle co-opting the term, but then wastes no time in very coolly and smoothly introducing herself to Laurie once they reach the till. Sorry, did I say “coolly and smoothly?” I meant “loudly blurts out that she’s a lesbian the second she is face-to-face with Laurie.” Moves! Clare does not have them! Laurie scores good points in my book by being charmed by Clare’s stunning lack of game, and rightly so. Sincere enthusiasm is very appealing!
All this cute flirting and arranging to meet up at the concert comes to a grinding halt when Laurie announces that the girls’ five tickets are the last she has for sale. Everyone else in line is disappointed, none more than a group of toughs claiming that the girls jumped the line in front of them. The main complainer, a fellow known as Madstab, insists on fighting James for the rights to the tickets. James is not a fan of this plan, and flatly refuses to fight, tearing up the tickets. This King Solomon move does not go down well with anyone, and the wains flee, Madstab yelling threats of bloody murder should their paths cross again.
The girls are furious with James for tearing up the tickets. They truly believed he’d have some wily fighting moves up his sleeve, given that “five of your lot colonized like half the world!” Michelle scores free tickets and VIP passes to the concert by lying about the experience on a local TV show. James — who, in this version of the story, got the tar beaten out of him, his money stolen, and his leg broken — is incensed, but who can argue with free tickets and VIP passes? Crutches it is! The wains look adorable in their costumes, but all the adults think they’re swans? To be fair, Orla also thought they were swans, and disappointedly removes her wee silver beak.
Clare’s Da Sean is driving the wains to the concert downtown, but rather than the large and commodious van they were expecting, he’s rolled up in an itty-bitty wee box of a car. Da Sean can’t understand why Clare is so annoyed, he’s got a perfectly good plan to get them all to the ball on time; he’s going to stack the wains in the backseat. My grasp of spatial relationships is comically weak, and even I can see that isn’t going to work. Fortunately, he hitches a little trailer to the back of the car, transforming his genuinely mini Mini into a parade float. Best! Night! Ever!
After an initial wave of giddiness in the VIP Suite — gate-kept by a very supercilious clipboard-wielder named Fintan — the girls’ evening starts to unravel. First, Clare is missing again, stymieing everyone’s anticipated meet-and-greet with their soon-to-be good buddy Norman. She’s off in the bar trying to find Laurie, but her search is itself stymied by Laurie’s clown costume. There are so many clowns, all in fully face-obscuring masks!
In the midst of it all, poor James comes face-to-face with Madstab. In the ensuing melée, it becomes obvious that James’s leg is just fine and the entire group of wains are thrown out. The sole bright spot is Laurie finally catching up with Clare and the two of them sharing a promising first kiss.
Out on the venue steps, there’s a moment of celebration for Clare’s romantic milestone, but then Gerry appears, eyes full of tears, managing to say only “Clare, love, your dad.” That phone call he took back at home brought awful tidings. We see the girls next at the hospital, but their vigil has a whiff of futility about it. It seems Da Sean’s aneurysm had already proven fatal before they even arrived. Everyone is heartbroken, and the wains’ angel wings have a new use, enveloping Clare in their protective and loving embrace.
The post-funeral scene is gutting. In stark contrast with Derry Girls’ usual tone, there’s no dialogue, no kernel of humor way down at the heart of it, just profound grief and care for Clare and Geraldine. Both women are being held up by their closest friends, walking in a daze behind Sean’s casket. The intensity and intimacy of the pallbearers carrying the coffin on their shoulders (rather than keeping a loving hand on top of a casket being wheeled down the aisle, as has been the case at all the church funerals I’ve attended) combines with the funeral-goers making their way slowly off the church grounds in a solemn parade. It’s an elegant contrast with the vibrant, carefree Halloween parade where we last saw Sean alive.
Best of Dennis’s Pick-and-Mix
• Somehow, Sister Michael’s rented habit helping Sarah break off her accidental engagement to Ciaran is kind of poetic and fitting. It’s just too bad we won’t see Sarah in church one more time in her technically not-bridal but still all-white ensemble (including a fur tippet and muff!) one more time.
• Sister Michael very casually reveals she’s agnostic. Not too shocking considering she took the veil primarily because of the guaranteed housing. Loving religious statuary does not a believer make.
• My one bone to pick with this otherwise very solid episode is not that Da Sean died, but that his death came directly on the heels of Clare’s lovely first kiss. Can queer characters, in the year 2022, have their love stories without suffering? This trope needs to go already.
