First, I want to say something about the songs. I don’t
normally talk about the songs, because they are normally a stupid waste of time
only used to sell iTunes singles, but every now and then they work for me. And since
this may be the last time I talk about Glee
in a positive light I might as well talk about them for a moment. They work for me when a song is being sung and
it cuts between the performance of the song and some other story. Like Blaine
singing Cough Syrup to Karofsky’s suicide attempt, or Shake It Out to Beiste’s
not leaving Cooter. The best example, though, will always be the Season One
finale, Bohemian Rhapsody to Quinn giving birth. (Seriously. Go on Netflix. Go
to Glee, Season one, episode 22. 18
minutes, 35 second in. Fantastic.) I thought Puck and Finn singing Glory Days
as the graduating ceremony was happening was stupid, but it was good because it
has to be viewed as them not literally performing it, but it was how they were
feeling. Just like that song Rachel was singing on the train. She wasn’t actually
singing it on the train; it’s just how she was feeling. And that’s the point of
having a musical, to quote Abed: “they sing what they mean instead of making a
face.” It’s a reason why people don’t like the genre, but that doesn’t mean it’s
not useful.
Lots of the time, I really do dislike Glee. I’ve already talked about the reasons I still suffer through
watching it. I may one day write about all the reasons I thinks it’s
awful. I dislike it most when it tries
to be like a normal television show. With little weekly plotlines and stories
about the characters that don’t come up again, just used to fill in the episode
or for wherever/whatever Ryan Murphy’s ego trip takes us that week/makes the
characters. Like Artie being interested in directing, or Blaine’s relationship
with his brother. I mean, some of them are average, run-of-the-mill TV fodder,
but Glee isn’t really successful when
it tries to tell any specific character stories. It is successful when it tells
larger, universal/archetypal ones. Glee
is really good at playing off big emotional moments, especially big moments
lots of people have lived through (like graduating high school. (Glee doesn’t have to be subtle, so
neither should I)). When it takes those moments and puts it on the characters,
instead of the other way around, it works so much better.
“Goodbye” doesn’t have a plot. Pretty much nothing happens. They
graduate. They sing songs. Yet the
episode was moving, sad, and entrancing. It felt so momentous, because when we
went through it, it felt. So. Momentous. I know when I graduated--only two
years ago--I felt lost and excited, just like these crazy Glee bastards. Because the world was now in front of me, and I had
no idea what to do with that. It’s terrifying. Because of the very real possibility
of failure.
Failure, as I talked about before, has always been prevalent
in the really good episodes of Glee. Because,
think about it, these are kids who love to perform. I don’t know the actual
statistics, but I’m pretty sure high school performers are less likely to “make
it big” than high school athletes (which also has pretty low stats). Again,
like I said last time, look at your parents. Some of them might be doing what
they love. But they are few and far between. And if they are doing what they
love it’s probably in the context of a basic middle-class life. (Don’t get me
wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with a basic, middle-class life, I’m
just saying: most dreams, especially teenage dreams, are a little bigger than
that) So when the show even allows the possibility of this, it’s pretty
successful in my eyes.
I know that on one point this show is about the “joy of
performing.” But joy is boring, from a dramatically interesting standpoint.
(Which is probably why I’m having a hard time writing about the funny episodes
of all the wonderful sitcoms I watch) So when the show does those episodes
about how much fun they’re having, it sucks. When they toss in stupid
melodramatic plots to counteract that, it also sucks. When they try to have melodramatic
plots about these kids confronting serious/important issues, it’s mostly a
50/50. But when the show is about these crazy Glee bastards confronting the fact that they could end up never
doing what they love, staying in their hometown, working at Linens ‘N’ Things
or the Lima, Ohio equivalent of Big Y, it’s often been fantastic. Or at least
wonderful. Ok, at the very least, it doesn’t make me want to murder small
woodland creatures.
That brings me to Rachel Berry. Now, there was no denying that Rachel was going to be the girl to get out. It’s been established since the pilot. To make her character not get into NYADA (a word I NEVER want to hear spoken again) would be to completely kill the point they were making with her character. Rachel is talented, that’s always been made clear. But she’s also got the persistence. She harassed Whoopi Goldberg enough to get into NYADA, as only one minor example. She’s motivated, she’s driven. You can see that from all the shit in her bedroom and locker. And how every other sentence she’s said since season one has included the word “Broadway,” “New York,” or “star.”
Rachel is painfully, obnoxiously annoying. Annoying as holy hell. She’s been insufferable about her dreams. Going on and on and on and on about them. Nonstop. We all know someone (or many people) like this. Who has a goal or a dream and are constantly doing stuff to work on getting there, constantly talking about it. And it’s annoying. Irritating. Obnoxious. But the point being made is that those people annoying you with their “big dreams” and with their frequent, if not nonstop, working on them are often the people that will achieve those dreams. Don’t get me wrong, there a certainly completely delusional people out there, but there are those people we know that just seem destined to live out their dream lives. Glee reminds us that the successful people of this planet we live on, 9 times out of 10, are the Rachel Berrys. The people who talk nonstop about what it will take to become a pro-athlete or a famous actor or the president. And it’s funny. Because we admire that quality when they’re up there, giving their inauguration speeches, post-Super Bowl interviews, and Oscar speeches, but we find it immensely irritating in real life. I, for one, have a hard time deciding what to eat for breakfast, why would I want to deal with someone who knows EXACTLY where the next thirty years will take them?
I should talk specifically about the actual episode a
little, though. Most of the scenes were nice; tying up storylines about where
all these characters are going. Mercedes is going to LA to be a backup singer
for some indie label. Quinn is going to Yale, and she’ll be able to walk around
and dance if she wants to, I guess. Santana’s got an envelope full of Gloria
Estefan’s money, so she’s all set to do whatever. Will finally tells Finn how
much of a creeper he was back in the pilot when he spied on him in the shower
and then planted weed in his locker. (Remember??) Brittany is staying at McKinley,
because she’s a moron. A loveable, good-looking, dancing, fat cat having, moron.
Puck managed to graduate, which I suppose is a victory in itself. And the
underclassmen will be fine until next fall, probably. And the teachers once again
say goodbye to another generation of kids they’ve grown too fond of, forever
sending young people off into an uncertain world.
Most of these scenes are only motivated by the fact that it’s
the finale and they’re graduating. But that’s enough for it to be good, because
when they move plot aside to focus on the emotional moments, it always works.
Nearly always, at least. The Puck and Brittany scenes were meh for me, and I
feel like they could’ve done something better with the Santana stuff. But what I
was unprepared for was the Quinn/Sue goodbye scene. I didn’t expect to be
affected by it, but I was. And I don’t think it was just because I enjoy both
Jane Lynch and Dianna Agron.
Two other scenes stuck out for me, and I’m sure they stuck
out for most people as well. First: the scene where Rachel, Kurt and Finn are
opening their letters. Finn doesn’t get into the Actor’s Studio (Which makes
complete sense and no one should be mad/upset/surprised about). Rachel gets into
NYADA (and I repeat, makes total sense and no one should get mad about it). But
Kurt doesn’t get in. They’ve normally been really good to Kurt in that he’s
gone through a lot of shit but has always come out on top. So it’s sad, yes,
but kind of nice that they made something bad happen to their saint character
that won’t be fixed for a while. But God, that scene nailed the emotional shit,
because that moment has happened to everybody. Lord knows I remember opening my
BU letter, taking like two hours of trembling before clicking on the link, to
see my rejection written out so plainly. And the several days after that,
feeling defeated, sad, depressed. Having to change my plans (I would say
dreams, to be more fitting, but I didn’t really have any).
Finn’s joining the army was a gutsy move, only because they
mentioned the possibility only ONCE before, in that episode where he learns his
father’s death hadn’t been as noble as he’d thought. But it makes sense that he
does that instead of going out to try to become a star. Because that’s not who
Finn is. He’s always just been there as the support for Rachel. He’s a loser
and a lummox. He only was able to become the lead because they needed a lead
and he looked the part. But that scene where Finn drives Rachel to the train
station. Lea Michele and Cory Montieth kill it. They nailed it. It was great.
It was great because it goes on and on and on and on, and never seems like it’s
going to end, because you’re seeing a whole set of dreams disintegrating in
front of these kids’ eyes, replaced by another, much more uncertain one. But that’s
the way the dreams you have at 17 or 18 are. They gradually fall apart, and
then you build new ones. Or maybe you get caught up in the old ones and wish
for a way to go back, for a time machine you don’t have. I’ll quote Springsteen
(I figure it’s appropriate because they sang Glory Days DURING the graduation
ceremony, which was lame. Finn was singing as he was giving Emma a hug and accepting
his diploma, smh) : Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true, or is it something
worse?
No comments:
Post a Comment