I've been enlightened: "9-1-1" returned from its interminably long midseason break, more captivating than ever. The past three episodes have been nothing short of exceptional—when the series masterfully balances absurdity with genuine character progression and a profound emotional heart, it stands unparalleled on television. (Perhaps "Doctor Odyssey" could rival it? I haven't ventured into that realm yet.) The episode titled "Holy Mother of God" brought much-needed resolution to Bobby's familial saga introduced via flashbacks last season and offered a welcome clarity to Buck's feelings towards Eddie. I chuckled, I wept, and I gasped in astonishment when a woman emerged from amidst the flowers. What a divine gift this show can be.
The narrative kicks off with a colossal revival meeting orchestrated by Ann Hutchinson, revered by her adherents as Sister Ann and portrayed by the stellar Lesley Ann Warren. She's a faith healer with a reputation for miracles, but just as she cures Greta of her bursitis and prepares to lay hands on tax attorney Rodney, plagued by gout, Rodney collapses. People start fainting left and right, and their condition escalates—vomiting and engaging in reckless behaviors like scaling the towering cross atop the building. The 118 arrives on the scene and swiftly diagnoses carbon monoxide poisoning, managing the situation with the utmost proficiency. Alas, Greta (now free of her bursitis woes!) precariously hangs from the cross, which begins to creak and sway. Buck attempts to coax her down, but she mistakes him for Satan. ("Ma'am, I assure you, I'm not Satan; my name is Buck," which might just be the epitome of this episode's iconic lines.) Even after Greta regains her senses, she's too terrified to grasp his hand—only Sister Ann, wielding a megaphone, can persuade her to descend. Once everyone is safely on solid ground, away from the toxic fumes, Bobby and Ann exchange cool acknowledgments. It transpires that she's not merely a faith healer; she's also his long-absent mother!
Bobby's mother has been a mystery shrouding "9-1-1." We hadn't glimpsed her until last season's flashback episode, "Step Nine," where she was embodied by Ellen Wroe. It was then we learned that Ann fled Bobby's abusive, alcoholic father, Tim, attempting to take the children with her. While Bobby's older brother, Charlie, accompanied their mother, Bobby chose to remain behind. This background is fraught with unresolved issues, as he explains to Athena. (She had presumed Ann deceased—a topic apparently never broached over the years?) Bobby avoids conversing with his mother, as it triggers physical discomfort for him. More crucially, he believes she's a charlatan and a scam artist. Athena, however, perceives this reunion as divine intervention. "Do you really think God poisoned 400 people with carbon monoxide to orchestrate this reunion?" Bobby inquiries, to which Athena responds, "He works in mysterious ways." I'm not entirely convinced, and neither is Bobby. Nevertheless, it's difficult to decline when Charlie, Ann's son-cum-assistant, turns up at the firehouse, extending an invitation for lunch with Bobby and Athena. Charlie's life as Ann's son and assistant seems miserable—his multiple marriages attributed to having room for only one woman in his life (disturbingly so!). Yet, Bobby harbors fondness for his estranged brother, a sentiment that outweighs his physical discomfort.
Bobby and Athena find themselves face to face with Ann and Charlie in the opulent confines of her hotel suite, but the encounter is far from harmonious. From the outset, barbed remarks fly thick and fast. Athena reveals their plans to erect a new abode, prompting Bobby to disclose that their previous home met an unfortunate fiery demise. Ann, with a tinge of sarcasm, retorts, "Not you, I presume?" though her remark, though rude, somehow lands with a certain bite. The tension escalates when the conversation veers into Ann's faith healing endeavors. Though personally unconvinced, I can't deny the rationality in her rationale: "I offer a beacon of hope for healing, fanning the flames of faith, for I know not how recovery can blossom without it." However, her mention of Bobby's estranged father ignites a powder keg of emotions. Ann boasts of shielding Bobby from Tim, to which Bobby counters by reminding her she abandoned that role when she left. "I refuse to apologize for my departure," she declares, and in this instance, I find myself aligning with her stance, especially considering her herculean efforts to rescue her children from a toxic environment.
Just when the Nash family drama reaches a crescendo, we shift gears to Buck, who has been taking refuge with Maddie and Chimney, shying away from occupying Eddie's former apartment. Maddie, thriving post-throat-slashing ordeal (perhaps enhanced by a new hairdo?), contrasts sharply with Buck's struggles in adjusting without Eddie by his side. Maddie suggests Buck foster new friendships, though we're all acutely aware of the daunting challenge of adulthood poses in making connections. Enter Ravi, the probie firefighter introduced in season four, woefully underutilized since. Buck's attempts at camaraderie are cringe-worthy, revealing a lack of common ground between them. (Ravi's fascination with frolf, or frisbee golf, only confirms our mutual incompatibility in that department.) Despite this, they agree to share a drink, potentially the budding bond of a budding bond.
Unfortunately, their drinking session proves a disappointment, with Buck monopolizing the conversation with Eddie anecdotes, including a forgotten underground fight club escapade from season three (this show's dense narrative, huh?). Ravi's rescue comes in the form of an unexpected encounter with Tommy, whom he invites to join them. Ravi's abrupt departure might come across as tacky, but it sets the stage for a heartfelt reunion between the exes. Buck fills Tommy in on life's updates, including his sister's abduction and Eddie's relocation to El Paso, noting their communication ceased after their breakup. Eddie's unwavering commitment to bro code warms my heart. The evident mutual longing between Buck and Tommy isn't surprising when Buck invites Tommy back to his (now affectionately dubbed) apartment, where passions ignite almost instantly, uninterrupted even by the recognition of Eddie's former digs. Finally, Buck enjoys a peaceful night in his bedroom, aptly baptized by their intimate encounter.
The following morning, as Tommy prepared breakfast, it began to dawn on him that this casual encounter might have blossomed into something more profound than mere ex-sexual liaison. They even toyed with the idea of an official date, with Tommy confessing that he was less concerned about Buck breaking his heart now that the supposed romantic rivalry had vanished. Oh, how intriguing this twist was – my ears perked up in anticipation. Buck, however, was taken aback by Tommy's implication, reminding him that Eddie was straight, to which Tommy responded with a dismissive scoff and an "okay." Buck then icily informed Tommy, "I don't have to desire intimacy with everyone I have feelings for, nor must I harbor affections for everyone I sleep with." The rekindled romance seemed to fizzle out just as quickly as it had sparked.
Later, Buck's demeanor softened when he was with Maddie. He was still puzzled by the notion that anyone could mistake his friendship with Eddie for love, but Maddie echoed the same curiosity. "It wouldn't be so crazy," she mused, and indeed, it wasn't far-fetched. Nevertheless, Buck insisted, "Despite everyone's perceptions, I'm not hopelessly yearning for my straight best friend. It's just not the case." If this marked the end of their romantic speculation, at least they had brought it out in the open.
Their fleeting moment of romantic tension couldn't linger long, as emergencies beckoned. A medical-alert pendant led the 118 to Elmer, who was experiencing a cardiac event. Elmer, battling hypertension and equipped with a coronary stent, insisted he was fine after collapsing amidst his flower beds, but the paramedics treated his condition with gravity. As Hen diagnosed angina caused by exertion, a woman emerged from the flora – it was Elmer's wife, Suzanne. Her tale of consuming oddly flavored sweet potato soup prompted Hen to realize she had been poisoned with cyanide. The LAPD was on its way to apprehend Elmer when he suffered another cardiac episode, this time fatal. As Suzanne was wheeled away on a stretcher, she reflected on how she should have left her husband long before he attempted to kill her. "He's been trying to bury me alive for 42 years," she lamented. Bobby, overhearing her words, realized his mother might have had valid reasons for her departure.
He rushed to her next revival meeting to apologize, but before he could speak, he witnessed Ann collapse on stage. At the hospital, Bobby learned that his mother had terminal cancer. She refused treatment, believing only a miracle could save her at this stage – acknowledging the irony in her situation. Instead, she was eager to meet her savior. Setting aside my personal beliefs (or lack thereof), the hospital room scene between Bobby and Ann was deeply moving, a testament to Peter Krause and Lesley Ann Warren's acting prowess. "I'm so sorry I didn't get to save him," Ann apologized, referring to Bobby's father. "Sometimes all you can do is save yourself," Bobby replied, finally understanding his mother's decision. Tears streamed down their faces, and mine joined in. It was such a powerful moment that I could overlook the cliffhanger of Athena finding herself confronted by another cruise ship, heralding the long-anticipated crossover with "Doctor Odyssey." I couldn't believe they were forcing this woman back onto the open seas again.
