617: 'Chromolume #7'
Wr: Marco Pennette
Dr: Lonny Price
Synopsis: Gabrielle and Angie head out to New York to track down Ana and Danny, and a chance encounter with supermodels Paulina Porizkova and Heidi Klum, Gaby's former co-workers, leads the former top model to an unexpected revelation about herself.
In the meantime, Mike tries to prove to Susan that he is a man with a capital "M" after he feels emasculated by her, and the Scavo family is surprised to see Preston (former regular castmember Max Carver) back from Europe... accompanied by a hot russian gold digger (guest star Helena Mattson as Irina). Bree discovers a surprising connection to her new employee (guest star Sam Page) and Katherine feels confused regarding her feelings towards Robin (guest star Julie Benz).
Review: For all it was a novel gimmick six years ago, the concept of using the names of numbers from Sondheim musicals as episode titles is starting to wear a little thin. This week's Housewives really does stretch the idea to its absolute limits: 'Chromolume #7'? Really? Oh sure, there's a vague semblance of significance in there somewhere but it's hardly as if there's a direct link to the episode's minutiae. It's an inherently ludicrous title anyway, sounding like some sort of knock-off shampoo or conditioner and therefore makes any attempt to review the episode somewhat difficult to take seriously. In order to best negate this problem then, this review shall hitherto refer to #617 as 'The One With the World's Worst Stick-On Moustache'.
And while we're on the subject of that atrocity, the Scavo storyline lapses somewhat this week, relying on a series of all-too-familiar beats to generate comedy and conflict. Honestly, the Housewives writing staff have to hold the world record for most uses of a disposable ancillary character to upset the functionality of a happy family unit. Preston's latest conquest, the beautiful foreign student who, you know, just has to be out of the boy's league because, let's face it, he's that ugly (anyone else find that rather insulting? What's to say she wouldn't simply find him attractive? Stranger things have happened! But no, there has to be an ulterior motive!), has the longevity and staying power of your average parliamentary MP. She's a guaranteed goner within a few weeks, after Lynette's managed to expose her duplicity and restore the comfortable equilibrium of the storyline. As with Gaby's druggie housemate or, indeed, Porter's last lover (the delightful older woman), the plot is just so ineffectual, precisely because there will be no lasting impact. It's a throwaway development, designed purely to fill some time, and it's a bloody lazy one at that. Every step of the story is shot through with predictability: the engagement announcement (did anybody actually believe that Preston was walking into his parents' bedroom to tell them that he'd came to his senses?), Lynette's attempt to disturb their happiness, the girl's discovery regarding the ring... we've seen all of this so many times before that it's just so darn tiresome.
But perhaps I just expect too much from the show. For a great many, enjoyment seems to be derived precisely from the familiarity that it offers; there's a comfort, apparently, in the ease with which the narratives can be predicted. Surprise, suspense and challenging concepts just don't factor in; viewers crave the easy ride, the ability to kick back, relax and let the mindlessness wash over them. Which explains elements such as the Bolen narrative that essentially amount to proverbial shrugs of the shoulder. For all it is refreshing to be treated to a completely different locale, wherein the production crew do an admirable job of manipulating the mise en scene to convey the hustle and bustle of city life (contrasting nicely with the suburban scenes), the sojourn to New York ultimately proves rather pointless. Sure, Danny comes home, thanks to his mother's Machiavellian manipulations and Gaby is able to have a semi-sort-of epiphany regarding the downfall of her modelling career, but honestly, how long are either of these going to last? Young Tyler will undoubtedly be back in Ana's arms within weeks, because the show can't seem to keep them apart, while Gaby's revelations never seen to have any lasting impact because she returns to her selfish, self-preoccupied ways at the start of every instalment.
It's difficult to take any of her more moralistic beats seriously, especially when they're prefaced by hopelessly wooden cameos from high-profile supermodels. Yes, it's hello Heidi Klum and good morning Gossip Weekly. Talk about your shameless publicity stunts, dear me... oh, and speaking of, in case you've been hiding under a rock for the past month, you'll surely be aware that ol' Fancypants Barrowman is making a guest appearance in several forthcoming episodes, and you can bet your bottom dollar that he's going to play Patrick, Angie's erstwhile lover and favourite psycholoon. The seeds are sown for his introduction here as the Generic Conniving Neighbour informs him of Angie's presence in New York and her subsequent destination. It's just a shame that the reveals themselves, the impart of information pertaining to the Bolan family history, are ultimately rather blase. There's little new offered here and certainly nothing that the viewer isn't able to glean from the tidbits offered up in weeks past. Patrick is Danny's father? Well, I never! That's like, Sixth Sense twist, that is, yeah! Jesus.
Still, at least this is a little better than Susan and Mike's narrative, which essentially amounts to load of unnecessary macho posturing and ludicrously over-the-top gumf in which Delfino attempts to prove his rugged masculinity to his wife by throwing her on the kitchen table and dominating her. Yeah, Mike, you go for it mate! Stick it in her while she's pinned down! That'll teach the bitch to disparage your manliness! 'In touch with his feminine side' indeed... how dare that trumped-up little harlot! Woman, get in the kitchen and make your man some pie... now! Euck. Admittedly, it should be acknowledged that this is, at the very least, within character for Mike but the problem, as always, is that the writers stretch credulity far too thin by indulging in the hyperbolic; by making the characters take extreme, and clearly unbelievable, actions to rectify the issues at hand. It's like Andrew's drunken outburst at work: the worst case scenario just had to happen, the trajectory had to end with the most foreseeable conclusion. It's not really a good week or the gays (again) since Pyfrom is forced to adopt the unlikeable and unstable veneer that he managed to shake many years ago, and the only other discernible representation is the hideously camp and bitchy fashion friend of Gaby's who, despite never vocalising his gayness, exhibits all the semiotic conventions of 'queer' that have dogged visual manifestations of alternative sexualities since the fifties. But at least Bree's narrative gets to go somewhere moderately interesting by proxy, since creepy new guy turns out to be an illegitimate child of Rex's, putting a much different spin on things and displaying a whole heck of a lot more promise than we received during his introduction in last week's episode.
It's difficult to feel much enthusiasm for 'Chr...', sorry, 'The One with the World's Worst Stick-On Moustache.' While the episode does move certain season-spanning narrative threads along somewhat, it doesn't take them anywhere particularly interesting, choosing instead to traverse roads well-travelled, conforming to a telegraphed telemetry that is easily readable and that therefore feels rather lazy. The hour seems to think it is doing important things - teasing Patrick's appearance, delivering Angie's confession - but they ultimately turn out to be ineffectual, featuring nothing we haven't already gleaned from earlier narrative beats. And the story isn't concerning itself with the arc, it's either resorting to cheap gimmickry in an attempt to bolster ratings figures (Heidi Klum? Really??) or hastily throwing together a load of well-worn, tired out ideas and hoping they'll produce something fresh. Which they don't. Inevitably. Desperate Housewives just feels very blase at the moment, resting squarely on its laurels and lacking any real 'oomph' to keep viewers talking. And no, Katherine's continued flirtations with lesbianism don't count. And nor does that damn 'tache. Sigh. 5.8
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