Smash Isn’t Going Anywhere

sucks to be you slash be near you.

Monday night’s season finale of Smash was so lackluster that after I watched it, I went on a 48-hour long bender, fucking furries, doing intravenous drugs, and demanding strangers stab me with hypodermic needles full of adrenaline just “so I can remember what it is to feel something!” Ha ha, no, no, actually what happened was I had plans on Monday night and didn’t watch the episode until last night and was all “THIS is what the show was leading up to? THIS IS IT?” Then I slapped myself to see if the sensation of pain brought me any succor. On a scale of succor-given I’d give it a 3.4 on the Da Vinci Scale, which is a scale I have just made up. And there you were attributing it to Da Vinci. You silly thing.

So where were we? Oh yes! We were in Boston. A town like New York but smaller, with a more confusing subway, and where if you are standing on the corner waiting for the light to change the odds are pretty high that some random person is going to tap you on the arm and be all “Did you know that in the Boston Massacre only five people were actually killed,” and then you say “Yeah, everybody knows that,” and roll your eyes, but if you don’t say that, then they will make you eat Boston baked beans and talk about the right way to say ‘Faneuil’ and also the Red Sox. It is, however, the best place for theatre (says Rebecca Jane Stokes, a former member of Boston’s SouthCity Ensemble, called “Witty, acerbic, and intense” by the Boston Globe.) It’s true. New York? NEVER HEARD OF IT. Boston is where dreams are made (says Rebecca Jane Stokes, who never again appeared on stage and now lives in Brooklyn.)

But things will turn out differently for the cast of the SURE TO SUCCEED HEAVILY INVESTED-IN BROADWAY SHOW, ‘BOMBSHELL’. Spoiler: NO THEY WON’T. With Rebecca Duvall dead enough that she is starting to look appealing to the fringe-dwelling mungers of a less erudite Cormac McCarthy novel, the role could go to anyone. ANYONE! My money’s on Ellis. Ha ha ha ha, oh Ellis. You loveable scamp.

The brilliant minds who gave us such a wealth of character riches including Token Black Gay Guy and The Angriest Deborah Messing Ever don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves either. The episode begins with a be-wigged figured walking to take the stage for the first ever preview (Everyone is pee-their-pants excited. Especially this one dancer girl who is all “GOOD LUCK!” and I was all “…I have never seen that character before.” And then my friend Nick spun around and was all “THAT IS JESSICA, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” and I was all “Busying myself with my real life instead of the made up antics of a bunch of stage ninnies,” only I said that in my head because his passion for the show is frankly unnerving, and I respect that.) Just when you think you are going to find out who the proverbial bombshell is (if you are dumb) the whole episode flashes back twelve hours – as announced via an abrupt title card that reminded me of The Shining in that it alarmed me and I screamed for no real reason.

What happened twelve hours earlier? Why the worst creative duo in all of history sat on the stage loudly farting and singing the only handful of lines they could remember from that Paradox song from Pirates of Penzance (I think it is called Paradox. Also I once played Ruth. It was a dark time and I had bleach blond hair.) What hast made the fair tulips so angry? The same thing that has Anjelica Houston considering offering up her bob as a blood sacrifice to Thor God of thunder in hopes it will appease his wrath and thus convince Derek The Violater to cast Ivy instead of Karen as Marilyn. OF COURSE, yes, that makes sense. Karen is the understudy and knows the part and IS THE UNDERSTUDY but let’s keep rubbing salt in the wound that is Ivy (…axe wound?) by being all “SHE LOOKS LIKE MARILYN, SHE ALSO KNOWS THE PART, YES SHE HAS A PILL PROBLEM, YES SHE IS SLEEPING WITH YOU, BUT CAST HER!”

It’s so sad it’s laughable. NBC decided many a moon ago that Karen was their girl. They put their money of the slim brunette with the pop vocal pipes and not the gifted singer with the blond hair and the body built for sinning. They made a big mistake. In the words of Julia Roberts As A Whore, “Huge,” even. As the season progressed they did what they could to make us revile little Ivy and yeah, that are a lot of reasons we should see and understand that she won’t be Marilyn – at least not this season. She’s loose, she’s conniving, she wants it too much, she once got totally high on stage and then strutted out into Time Square in full costume. But at the end of the day, just as Derek claims to “See” Marilyn when he looks at Karen, the rest of us see Ivy.

So you see it was almost cathartic when Ivy confronted Karen with the wedding ring that Dev left in the wet spot of the bed they banged in.Yeah. That happened. And then Karen cried naked in a fake closet and Derek was all “YOU CAN DO THIS BECAUSE OF HOW WEAK YOU ARE” and then she did and she was Marilyn. Whee. No one cares. I died inside. Then I went to Bernadette Peters’ high rise apartment and we drank pink gins and talked about the war of Northern Aggression for a time.

Also Ellis confessed that he had poisoned Rebecca Duvall with nuts in her blender. I wish this were a sex joke but it is not. Also Ellis reminded me of Jimmy Durante in that scene and that was great. I also feel like maybe Anjelica Houston had no idea who this person was talking to her. Which made it even better. His suit was red. The devil’s color. He confessed, was fired, stomped his foot about Ivy not getting the part, and then promptly dialed 666-6666 and returned via full-price far all the way to hell. HELL!

I wish he’d had a musical number as he departed, but since he didn’t I am genuinely worried he will come back next season. Just like the clap. Or crabs. Crabs are a better comparison. If you put one under a microscope it would be Ellis.

Another thing that happened was that Deborah Messing was the worst writer ever and couldn’t make a song happen, which was funny because neither could Tom and they were all “Gospel?” and then Deborah spat at him and found out she pregnant probably. THAT THERE IS A SWIFT BABY IN HER BELLY! Good thing she and her husband resolved all their issues. Ha ha ha ha, bucket of oats is going to cut that baby out of her belly and then try to insert it back up his bottom hole so that he can know what it’s like to be a mom. Ha ha oh man I should not post that, but I’m gooooing to!

Until next season, never forget – Marilyn Monroe Is Not Going Anywhere And Neither Is Katharine McPhee. Just ask Ivy, oh wait you can’t because she is overdosing in the dressing room. Whoopsies! More pink gins for me, hooker!