Glee: A guilty pleasure ends its first season

Like a president’s scholar doing MDMA for the first time, Glee ran through the latter half of its first season without a clue as to where it was going. Loose ends were whipped recklessly around, characters were starved of motivation for their actions, but there was a whole lot of music and a whole lot of glitter.

Sadly, the show has started in recent episodes to be driven by its theme-of-the-week instead of any plausible conflict or character development. “Theatricality” seemed to frame an entire episode simply because the producers wanted a few Lady Gaga covers. While “Funk” was supposed to reveal Vocal Adrenaline’s jugular (because they’re “soulless automatons” and can’t understand funk), it never really played out into the plot, which essentially remained idle.

With the plot idle, the characters were left to lounge around and stew in their own stereotypical portraits.

Apparently bored with Kurt dropping fashion references, the writers decided they’d make a painfully ridiculous plot arc in which he thought he’d turn straight, date Brittany (ugh), and sing John Mellencamp.

Meanwhile, Artie had a dream in which he was magically abled, a scene that may or may not have been made with the purpose of showing viewers that Kevin McHale doesn’t actually need a wheelchair to get around.

Mercedes had what (I think) passed for serious body issues, to which Quinn could apparently relate because, you know, when you’re pregnant, the stigma doesn’t come from being pregnant, but from being fat!

I like to call Glee’s approach to casting and representation “diversity management.” The othered characters serve the purpose of either a) creating identitarian conflict or b) making New Directions look inclusive and attractive to as many different viewers as possible, all without having to give any of these othered characters any depth. Meanwhile, Rachel and Finn continue to hog the spotlight.

In the season finale, Olivia Newton John, playing herself, ironically refers to New Directions as “tokenistic.” Is this a sign the writers realize their show has representation issues, and intend to rectify the problem? I sincerely hope so.

How Sue sees it

The too-cruel-for-school gym teacher with the bureaucracy inexplicably on her side was, really, what hooked my interest in Glee initially. Interestingly enough, Sue Sylvester was the one aspect of the show that kept my faith alive throughout its dismal second half. And sure enough, she delivered.

I frequently found myself saying, “There isn’t nearly enough Sue in this episode!” What relatively little of her that was shown, however, really turned Sue Sylvester on her head. One might make the argument that it’s a little too much to show Sue Sylvester sulking in bed or at all expressing her true feelings, but, ultimately, the dulling of her ego amounted to one of the most crucial (if not the only) plot developments in the second half of the series.

By pairing the word “dull” with Sue Sylvester’s ego, I don’t at all mean to suggest her career as venomous queen of one-liners is nearing its end. She continues to deliver a decent share of hair-related insults and politically-incorrect zingers:

“You have enough product in your hair to season a wok.”

“I might buy a small diaper for your chin, because it looks like a baby’s ass.”

And, of course, my absolute favourite this half of the season:

“Your hair looks like a briar patch. I keep expecting racist, animated Disney characters to pop up and start singing about living on the bayou.”

Now that Glee has been renewed for another two seasons, a big and bright future looms. Here’s hoping our president’s scholar starts making more good life choices. Either way, the music will continue to be catchy, and Sue Sylvester will continue to be vile. I’m afraid to say those two things alone are enough to keep me watching.

Thank the devil for guilty pleasures.