Flaming purple pianos. Spaghetti-strewn cheerleaders. The unanswerable question as to why toast is made when it is already baked. All a normal episode of Glee. But the starter episode for season 3 was all but lacking.
I miss the old days when Ryan Murphy was writing! I must say, the witty comments Sue Sylvester makes—my favorite being about Will growing some man marbles after throwing glitter bombs in her face—Rachel’s rare but existent redeeming qualities that keep the club together, and nerdy journalist, Jacob Ben-Israel’s intro interviews about “plans for the future” were segments that captured the old feel of McKinley High. Then of course, there is Brittany’s commentary on just about anything. Now, it seems as if there’s a huge hole in the show that’s sucking all the plot and personality out of the theme of the misfits.
Maybe I got too enthusiastic about this one topping New York. It tried to hold on to the magic of ambition by incessantly pairing Kurt and Rachel together. Which was great, especially their “gay handshake,” but come on! You do not need to keep singing show tunes on an empty stage with no audience to seem passionate, and New York is full of colleges with musical theater programs, not just that one, unless Mrs. Pillsbury is holding something back.
By the way, when did she start waking up next to Mr. Schuester? How long of a summer has it been? What’s also unexplained is how all the characters are dropping like flies. Sam’s disappearance was addressed in passing-by, as if he barely existed. It’s the producer’s fault for not making him an interesting enough character. Zizes kind of just got bored and Puck merely dismissed it as “another one [getting] away” even though he was obsessed with her, which I, quite frankly, loved. Quinn, for some reason, turned emo and apparently into a “Skank,” (their group name not mine). Santana got kicked out for her duplicity between the Cheerios and Glee Club in lieu of Mr. Schuester saddling for Nationals.
So, in turn, the show was spent on background information to catch you up with what is happening now, making the show seem kind of hurried. I am not saying that there should be a whole introduction of everyone, but make it seem like time has passed. I did not have the slightest inclination it was the beginning of the school year until Artie and Tina mentioned they are juniors (“the wheelchair gives me the illusion that I’m older). Which makes this episode, lamentably, just a placeholder for introducing new characters from the reality show, “The Glee Project.” They did try to introduce a new character, Sugar, who had more confidence than Rachel, but without the talent to back it up. The show in its efforts did make lighthearted reference as to how she self-diagnosed herself with Asperger’s, which made her all the more exaggerated (“I worked that solo like a stripper on a pole.”) and charming as a part of having no where else to be a part of. Alas, we have another Sunshine kicked out by Rachel. Mike Chang just dances, so why can’t there be more room for her?
Last but not least is the music! The whole purple concept I suppose was in tribute to the Go-Gos, especially with their almost retro outfits to “You Can’t Stop the Beat.” The songs were fitting but cliché and overused. No more top hits; give some variety! Bring back the Warblers!
Speaking of which, Blaine is going to finally be a part of the team, without his uniform and in instead sporting a smashing bowtie. His relationship with Kurt is reaching more intimate levels as well, even though national television supposedly can handle only one gay kiss for the most serious relationship there. He literally and figuratively blew away his rendition of “It’s Not Unusual” by Tom Jones on the bleachers, the last place where the whole glee club was unified for nationals. Apparently the choir room is not a popular place to sing anymore.
Moreover, I hope to see the show develop back to not just catchy beats you can buy on iTunes, but a reversal back to its roots where people from all different backgrounds can just let loose and sing.
