God, this show has really gone downhill. Instead of the singing and dancing that we love, they filled McKinley High with a bunch of old chefs sitting and bitching. It was way more knife skills than jazz hands. Bleck.
Instead of opening to a buzzing chorus and a heat-seaking Slushie cruising down the hallway, we are introduced to Fabio, who will be the heavily-accented Virgil for our tour through this fresh hell. Apparently this episode is meant to show us what all of our favorite Glee club members are going to look like in 10 years. Apparently they have all become chefs and been on some sort of reality show, but not all at the same time. They have also given up singing and dancing, which is sad.
He starts bringing in all these people we don't even recognize. First is some chucklehead who must be Finn after getting married: bloated, haggard, but still walking around with that confidence that says he has the biggest dick in the locker room. Then in saunters Mercedes, the big girl with the big voice and plenty of sass to back it up. She's also pulled a Michael Jackson and lightened her skin a whole lot.
Then the Will Schuester arrives. He is going by Ilan these days, and he is still cute in a nerdy way and a little bit too earnest. Shortly after comes Puck, throwing about oblivious bravado just like he used to swings about his massive man guns, except now his mohawk has grown out into a nest of scary nettles. Babygay Kurt's has grown into chubby adolescent and screeches when he sees the sexy and kinda mean Quinn Fabray, who has dyed her hair brown and is wearing a very cute outfit that is nothing like a cheerleader's uniform. They are joined by some guy named Hung who was one of those silent Asians in the background of the Glee club who they trot out whenever they need someone to do break dance moves.
Next is Ken Tanaka, with a face that looks like it was attacked by a hive of bees and a haircut only a lesbian could love. Speaking of which, in saunters Sue Motherfucking Sylvester. Well, at least we thought so, until we realized that this dykey lady was about as funny as spending a night in county jail for public urination. What could have happened to ruin her spirit?
Finally the diva of the show arrives, but Rachel has gone from an awkward, strangely attractive and totally totally self absorbed bitch into an awkward, strangely attractive tall black woman with giant eyes. She's not nearly so full of herself though. Then we see that pot-dealing, Josh Groban-loving Sandy has gone back in the closet. What a sad day to see him without the protection of a sherbet colored sweater tied around his neck like he was pretending to drive to the country club.
Now that we've met the dramatis personae, we're ready for them to start talking about how they're going to put on the show. A little doo-wop and be-bop later, and we'll have ourselves a cheerleader-themed production number that will make every hair on your body stand on end for two whole minutes before falling off your body in exhaustion. It's like the television equivalent of a full-body wax, and it hurts so good. Well, they start talking...and talking and talking. We keep seeing flashbacks of them actually doing things—namely cooking and bitching at each other—but now that are not doing anything. It's like a third year high school reunion, where everyone is still far too familiar and the wounds are as fresh as newly-picked hemlock.
Fabio the Fabulous must be the director, because he's going around and talking to everyone and trying to find out about their character's motivations. We're ready for him to start blocking a scene or something, but instead he just seems to be practicing to host a reality show all his own. Finally, he starts to get things rolling by pulling out this crazy block with a bunch of knives sticking out of it. We get prepared for the massacre, as each gang of two (or three in the case of Babygay Kurt, Quinn, and nameless Asian) draws their weapon. But they're not fighting, they're just randomly assigning numbers. Somehow this translates into Rachel and Sandy having to make dessert, which is funny because Rachel would never eat dessert or else it would ruin her elliptical-based aerobic exercise regime and Sandy only eats dessert when he's stoned. Any situation this tedious would probably sober him up right quick.
Next thing you know, everyone is in the supermarket. This is like some kind of fever dream, when you expect to see Judy Garland dance with Mickey Rooney, and instead you get a Nicolas Cage chewing the scenery up and down a liquor store aisle as he fulls his cart full of the booze that he's going to use to kill himself. But instead of Nic's bad hair, you have a whole bunch of bad lesbian hair all competing for your attention. And it is dotted with all these wretched reminders of better days, when they were playing this awesome game that was judged by beautiful, wise, and witty people, including Parvati, the Hindu goddess of love. But these xenophobes keep mispronouncing her name and calling her Padma. God, Americans are so stupid. There is no mention of the evil goddess Kali, who once ruled the land, but was replaced by someone more charismatic and photogenic.
Then they go back and cook, but not in a way like they're actually trying to get something done (except for nameless Asian who is all high kicks and head spins around that kitchen like he's the third chorus boy in Barefoot Contessa: The Musical!) Rachel is talking about how stressful life is as a star. Sandy is walking around trying to prove how straight he is by hitting on all the lesbians. The lesbians are rolling their eyes, and Sue Motherfucking Sylvester doesn't even threaten one person except with her scowl, which could peel the hides off of a battered cardboard box of newborn puppies.
Director Fabio is making the rounds and asking everyone what they are doing, but we don't really care. We're just thinking that after this extravaganza of tedium that there has to be a great closing number with tap dancers, showgirls in headdresses, and stairs that light up when they are stepped on. Instead they all sit down to dinner. The only way this could be good is if Fabio puts on a corset and a curly wig gets Rachel in a maid's outfit and Finn as a bald butler to flank him for a rendition of "Eddie's Teddy" from Rocky Horror Picture Show, and at the end of the number he rips the table cloth off the table to reveal the body of dead goddess Kali below. But they don't, and we still don't know what happened to Kali Joel.
Instead, they sit around and talk about how hard it is to be on reality television and how no one understand them. Puck has it the worst, apparently, but it seems he deserves it because he behaves so appallingly that it makes it seem like he has some sort of personality disorder. In the middle of all this, Fabio gets all incensed for no reason. We think he's going to suddenly blow his top and scream "prostitution whore" and flip over a table, but instead he just makes some speech that we couldn't quite understand because the only Italian words we know are puttanesca and DiGiorno, which we think means delivery.
They're all eating and everyone likes most of the food, except everyone agrees that Babygay Kurt's pirogi thing is about as bad as that "Single Ladies" song the millionth time you've heard it. Then there are more memories, good and bad and more bitching. We have to check the calendar, because it seems like Thanksgiving came early this year, except we don't get to eat any of our mother's famous Indian Pudding (maybe Parvati stole it?) and we just get all the fighting. Finn tries to keep everything positive, but despite the swagger, no one listens to him anymore because he's fat now. Quinn and Rachel try to make nice and say that Rachel has forgiven Quinn for ruining her life, but we know she was kicking her under the table through the entire meal. She has very long legs now.
After more misty watercolor memories of everyone playing and getting drunk in some dirty room that must be Mercedes' basement where everyone goes to party after an especially tough rehearsal, the whole thing is over. Like sex with a bad hooker or a community theater production of Into the Woods, it ends with no climax, with no big final scene, and it took way too long to get there. We can't wait for next week when everything is back to normal, because this episode of Glee sucked.