Are you eavesdropping on our conversations, Modern Family's creative minds? Just seven days ago, we were marveling at how delightful it is when the characters break free from their meticulously manicured homes to engage with the eccentric characters of the world, and voilà, we are treated to an episode teeming with precisely that.
Jay, as we all know, is meant to embody the lovable scoundrel. Yet, in recent episodes, he's shown himself to be more of... well, just your garden-variety jerk. His bizarre, off-the-cuff remarks about his wife's physique—comments we wouldn't brook from a construction worker—coupled with his outright condescension (recall his patronizing, "Good work—whaddaya say we hit the jewelry store?" after Gloria crashed her bike into the bushes last week?), have left us somewhat perplexed about the family patriarch. Initially, this week's episode did little to clarify matters. When Gloria informs him that a couple they met on vacation last year is in town and eager for dinner, he reacts as if they're carriers of a contagious plague. In truth, they're as interesting as a wet blanket—she's fixated on her phone's gizmos, he considers "listening" his chief pastime—which is his personal affliction, but hardly justifies the ultimatum Jay dishes out at dinner. Back at their abode, Gloria, finally, lets loose, unleashing a torrent of emotion in one of the season's most drawn-out dramatic scenes to date. Naturally, she secures her own revenge by convincing the couple that Jay's senior moments are slipping. It's somewhat of a tacky joke (propelled by an admittedly humorous mix-up, where Manny informs the bore-some McBoringsons about Jay's feeble golf game, and they misunderstand it as a reference to his mental decline), but hey, we'll take tired gags about Jay's age over worn-out wits about Gloria's cleavage any given day.
Thus far, the show has largely centered on the contemporary reality of Mitchell and Cameron—the daily hurdles of being a gay couple raising an adoptive daughter in the suburbs, amidst all the touchy-feely moms and squatting Reiki masters that come with the territory. Perhaps due to this focus, it's always refreshing when we catch a glimpse into one of the guys' pasts, and this week, Mitch's past catches up with him in a big way. At the mall with Lily (revealed to be a shoplifting hobbyist with a penchant for harmonicas and aviator sunglasses—watch out, mid-eighties Waylon Jennings incarnate), they bump into Tracy, Mitch's teenage sweetheart. "I want to hear all about Mitchell in high school," Cameron insists. "Did he have a beard?" Tracy responds sulkily, "Yeah, you're looking at her." But hey, she's happily married now, and Mitch has Cam and Lil Miss Five-Finger Discount, so no awkwardness necessary, right?
Oh, well, actually, it turns out that Mitch and Tracy did indeed consummate their relationship at their ten-year high school reunion, some eight years ago, long after Mitch had come out. And who do they spy Tracy fetching an ice-cream cone for across the food court? A flame-haired tot who, yup, looks just about the perfect age to be Mitch's awkward, nurse's-office-conceived heterosexual offspring. He breaks the news to Cam over dinner that night (cue an excellently melodramatic reaction from Cam; rival network TNT may know drama, but Eric Stonestreet knows duh-rama), and attempts to confront Tracy the next day, only to discover that—dun dun dun—this week's fresh episode of Modern Family has borrowed a plot twist from season three of 30 Rock, wherein an adult with dwarfism is mistaken for a young child. Fortunately, the build-up remained charming. Furthermore, we adored Mitch's quip, "You're so gay, you can't even think of real girls' names!" and how he fell into the same trap later with his dad—and that he and Jay were openly discussing his lack of ladyfriends, and hence, semi-openly addressing his homosexuality. Almost redeemed this week, even the old grump.
In the realm of the Pritchett-Dunphys, Alex's notable absence from recent episodes left us all pondering the reasons behind her disappearance. It turned out she had secluded herself in a study nook, devoting herself wholeheartedly to her studies – seemingly her sole occupation these days. Our hopes for glimpsing a gentler facet of the stern, lesbian-stereotype-defying sandal-wearer remained unfulfilled, but at least, this season promised some character progression for Phil and Claire, a promise delightfully fulfilled this week.
Alex was in a tizzy over an upcoming test, convinced that Sanjay Patel would outperform her, to the extent that she developed an odd, jaw-stretching tic (to which Claire fumed, "It's an obsessive-compulsive disorder, I've read countless articles about it!"). Luke, amused by her antics, pelted her with grapes, prompting her parents to whisk her outside for some enforced trampolining. When Sanjay outscored her by a whopping twelve points, Alex resigned herself to defeat, remarking, "Sanjay's mom is a surgeon and his dad is a professor – I'll just have to make the best of what I've got." Meanwhile, Phil and Claire were preoccupied with their plans to catch "Croctopus," their apparent penchant for cheesy B-movies perplexing and endearing in equal measures. Their absorption in movie schedules, however, led Alex to believe them less than intelligent, a notion their movie-obsessed behavior seemed to confirm.
Despite this, they ventured to the cinema, donning their 3-D glasses and preparing to indulge in contraband candy and wine coolers. Imagine their surprise when they bumped into Sanjay's parents – the surgeon and the professor! Desperate to impress the parents of her child's schoolmate, Claire quickly steered Phil in the Patels' direction, hoping to make a poor show of their intelligence. Instead, she found herself saddened by the mind-numbing boredom of the subtitled French film they chose. Though Claire endured the ordeal, Phil bailed out to watch "Croctopus," emerging thoroughly content. Claire, however, drifted off to sleep.
Emerging outside, they proudly demonstrated to Mr. Patel how to validate his parking ticket, gleefully informing him of their disinterest in his intellectual film. Little did they know, their smug exit led them straight into a "not an exit door," and, oh joy, back into our affections.
