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The Peeves: Fourth of July parties, saying goodbye at parties, punk parties, fireworks, the Deep Web
Put a Cap on It: This episode's a lot like the third from this season, "Healthcare": a bunch of sketches revolving around one theme. This time around, the theme is the Fourth of July. On a rainy Thursday in February. Whether poor planning or deliberate sadism, it amounts to the same.
Anyway, it's the Fourth of July and Dave (Fred) is stressed about throwing a good party. But not to worry! His wife, Kath (Carrie) has hired a party planner (an almost-unrecognizable Jane Lynch in a big, red wig), who helps them decide on âShitty Punk Barbecueâ theme, complete with "reggae music is coming out from the house, in a half-broken speaker." When it comes down to barbecue time, everything is a disaster–the meat's not tasting so great over their shopping cart barbecue. But it's supposed to be a disaster, says the party planner, so it was a success.
Meanwhile, The Mayor (Kyle Maclachlan) and his assistant, Sam (actual former mayor Sam Adams) are facing troubles of their own: their fireworks guy fell through. So they log on to the Deep Web, and meet up with a mysterious fireworks impresario (Fred) at his mansion in Beaverton (uh...more on that later). Through a misunderstanding, they end up buying explosives instead of fireworks. After launching a rocket at a condo (as one should...kidding, NSA!), they sell them to some guy named Ming. Which isn't racist at all. Nope.
Finally, Fred is having trouble saying goodbye without going on a long spiel at all these parties, which is upsetting to Carrie, because they have a full day ahead of them. She advocates a "French Goodbye"—just dipping out, unannounced. Which is kind of wack, considering that Corin Tucker and Lance Bangs are two of the people Fred is giving a long goodbye to.
Best Bits: Jane Lynch's approval of the punk party: "Very authentic, from the charred synthetic meat to the barking dog to the toddler running around in a poopy diaper." I was at that party like two weekends ago.
Duds: As great as it is to see Sam Adams and Kyle Maclachlan traipse around in Boy Scout uniforms (it's kinda funny), their storyline is pretty weak. It would've been good about a year and a half ago, when Silk Road was busted and everyone was atwitter over the Deep Web. Plus—and this is just me—but unless it's presented in a really original way, I don't find bits about blowing up the place I live particularly funny.
Deep Cuts: The mayor's screen lists the arms dealer's address as 2280 Maple Lane, Beaverton, Oregon. But Maple Lane is in West Slope, which technically isn't part of any city. But, hey, maybe they can't use a real address for legal reason. And everybody's always getting confused over the extra-governmental anomaly that is the Swiss-cheese incorporation of Washington County.
But wait. The arms dealer's house is a palace, all tennis courts and mossy rock walls. That is not what 2280 Maple Lane, Beaverton, Oregon looks like. That's Dunthorpe or something. This is such a typical Portland-transplant attitude. Insinuate that the southwest suburbs are nothing but money, while ignoring the fact that Laurelhurst, Irvington, Eastmoreland and all those fucking condos are well within the city limits. Nice try.
Grade: D. In light of last week's episode, which was a really funny return to form, this one's profoundly disappointing. It's anchored by a weird theme—the last time they did this, with healthcare, it was at least a non-seasonal topic, though a comparably unfunny episode. The other elements that ground this one—the Deep Web, unannounced goodbyes—were hot thinkpiece topics last year. Between that and a rehash of the "lol punkhouse" thing, which they did in season three, there's nothing novel in this episode and, thus, nothing funny.
And leave Beaverton out of this. We've got enough problems.
WWeek 2015