We know: we've had a few problems with Weeds this year, and last night's episode did nothing to waylay our fears. We're still fairly concerned that even though Nancy has rent her family seriously asunder and started to piss off members of the Mexican mafia, she will get out of any trouble she runs into this season with a smile and a suck on her Starbucks. That still bugs us.
But Jesus H. Christ, did Mary Louise-Parker and Justin Kirk do anything last night that wasn't pitch-fucking-perfect? Nancy moping on the kitchen table; Andy finding the picture; their scene together over the photo: each one a delicious sort of comic portrait. And that was just the first ten minutes! Listen, we've already mentioned how much we love the Justin Kirk, but after last night: we really really love him. Where is his Emmy? Where is his Nobel Prize? Why isn't he our secret boyfriend? Not since Murray Hewitt first considered the chicken and the egg have we found someone just thinking as funny as Andy's realizing what was up with that picture.
And Mary-Louise Parker. Is it just us or did last night make you realize how little comedy they've given her this season? Why should Kirk, Elizabeth Perkins and Kevin Nealon have all the fun? (Particuarly since Doug and Celia = snooze right about now.) Nancy's gotten to show lots of defensive ambition, lots of jabbing elbows, but between her dead-on bitchsmack confrontation with Lisa and the cross-cut monologue to her kids WHICH SHE NAILED we desperately want more grand comedic moments from her from here on out now that we've been reminded that she can bring 'em. Enough of the snide suburban kvetching. Aren't we supposed to be out of Agrestic? Maybe it's time to get the Agrestic out of Nancy, huh? Give her and Andy something big to do together soon. There have been hints of a romance between the two of them; we're indifferent to the idea unless it arises from them doing something silly and dangerous and theatrical together, like being human drug mules or operating a portable stove.
A related note: we feel like we should be a little upset that the writers have attempted to dispense with two of our favorite plotlines -- Shane and Silas ejaculating to pseudo-Nancys -- in one speech. But they get points for whipping both plot threads into such a hi-foam frappuccino of shame and taboo. And doubleplus word score for giving the freakout two great payoffs: Shane seemingly destined to be hot shit in his new school, unafraid of any females now that his most indecent urges have been uncovered, and Silas, slinking off to his room, a familiar iced beverage in his hand. One boy moving on from his mom; one potentially becoming her. Funny, spooky, and revealing: qualities that we've yet to see much this year -- and are sorely welcome.
[img via TVSquad/Showtime]
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