After taking a three-week hiatus, "Modern Family" made its triumphant return last evening. While the episode incorporated elements we admired – conflicts involving non-immediate family members, a Luke-centric subplot that stole the show, and a heartwarming, humorous portrayal of gay individuals and their intricate family dynamics – it seemed somewhat preoccupied with a rather vague, nostalgic moral message, veering slightly from its usual straightforward humor.
The Pritchett-Dunphys' segment commenced with the family, albeit reluctantly, engaging in a backyard wiffle ball game. ("Boys rule and girls drool!" "Luke, you drool all the time. Mom had to take you to a specialist for that." "I'm still growing into my tongue," he quipped innocently.) Claire smashed a homerun over the fence, but the game was abruptly halted when no one dared venture into Mr. Klezak's yard to retrieve the ball, owing to rumors of his eccentricities. (Previously, we had perceived Phil and Claire's neighbors as quintessential, upbeat, upper-middle-class WASPs.) However, Mr. Klezak was not the type of eccentric they had envisioned warning their carefree, boundary-crossing youngest child to avoid. Inevitably, Luke wandered over to retrieve the ball and struck up a friendship with the crusty old man, reminiscent of the timeless movie "The Sandlot," employing his unique, endearingly clumsy charm.
When Claire and Phil discovered this, their distress was palpable. ("Little kids can be friends with old people, can't they?" "Absolutely. There are countless examples – 'Up,' 'Gran Torino,' 'True Grit.'" "One's a cartoon, he kills himself; in another, she loses an arm – we need to talk to this guy," Claire added anxiously.) So, one night, they broke into Mr. Klezak's house to initiate a friendly, open conversation with the potentially lecherous old man. They boldly entered his dimly lit abode while he slept in his living room, prodded him awake, and, in their frantic terror, accidentally broke some items. Their worst fears were somewhat confirmed: He was indeed a grumpy old man. It was hard to fault him: Not only had these strangers broken into his house and awakened him from his slumber, but they also suspected him of being a pedophile. Yet, one doesn't have to be a lonely pervert to harbor affection for Luke's adorable demeanor ("Most people think I'm adorable," he beamed). Mr. Klezak, moved by this encounter, brought onions to Claire and Phil, revealing his past as a retired firefighter. In return, Luke offered to help him with his garden, forging an unlikely yet heartwarming bond.
The Tucker-Pritchetts
It was a genuine delight to witness these individuals refraining from conflict this week. Indeed, when they are aligned as a team, they constitute an exemplary couple, a sight we hadn't been privy to in quite some time. And now, at long last, they've embarked on making plans to reunite with their old chums: Longinus, Crispin, and the ever-memorable Pepper, who almost derailed their union earlier this season but appears to have mellowed out somewhat. Pepper is once again portrayed by Nathan Lane, whose allure is far more pronounced when he's indulging in libations and orchestrating spontaneous barbershop quartet performances in bars than when he's preoccupied with imagined relationship melodramas.
Prior to their outing, Mitchell reaches out to Claire to inquire if she could keep an eye on Lily. Haley answers the call. ("Sorry, she's not here. She had to take Alex to the oncologist." "Oh my goodness, what's wrong?" "She just needed a new pair of glasses.") Haley eagerly seizes the opportunity to escape another excruciatingly tedious, grounded Saturday night, all the while positioning herself as a semi-responsible young adult. ("I'm babysitting Luke right now," she asserts as we catch a glimpse of him wielding a massive knife in the kitchen.) We couldn't help but mimic Cameron's reaction to Mitchell's half of the conversation, grimacing and motioning as if to slit our throats, but when Haley got her wish, we harbored at least a glimmer of hope for some Baby's Day Out-inspired antics. (Lily is so composed at home; you can just tell she's a wild child when she's out and about, pursued by a pair of bumbling cat burglars.)
Alas, Haley opts for the predictable, dopey high-school-girl route, tucking the kid into bed and inviting Dylan over. She doesn't even bother to stake claim to the living room for a major make-out session. Unfortunately for her, Cam is spying on her through some sort of remote webcam contraption on his iPhone. (Is this even a thing? Do people actually remotely spy on their babysitters?) Fortunately for her, she knows how to expertly lay on the guilt trip, temporarily convincing Cam that there isn't a boy in the house by feigning hurt that he would even think such a thing. Haley might have slipped through the cracks if Dylan hadn't left his shoes at her "uncles'" place. Cam knows exactly what she's up to when she storms over later to scold him for not trusting her, peeking around less discreetly than she realizes, searching for the guy's shoes. But he allows her to go on and on, before revealing what she's truly after with merely a knowing smirk, because he's one of the two finest uncles a girl like her could ever aspire to have.
The Pritchett-Delgados kicked off this week's episode with a lively breakfast scene, where Gloria presented Manny with a plate of scrambled eggs, much to his dismay, as his preference lay firmly with soft-boiled. In what seemed like a matter of monumental importance, Manny balked at the notion of embracing novelty, prompting Jay to gently nudge him out of his comfort zone: "You gotta keep an open mind, buddy. Remember when I thought I hated crab cakes? Tried 'em, loved 'em." Manny's swift retort, "Wow, is that story Hollywood-bound?", encapsulated our collective sentiment regarding the episode's family segment, which hovered around the realm of the mundane.
Later, Gloria and the gang set off for an evening's entertainment, with Jay anticipating a concert by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. However, when he discovered their destination was an opera performance of Vivaldi's "Four Seasons", he promptly deserted them for the solace of a nearby bar. Ironically, this bar happened to be where Mitch, Cam, and their trio of gay friends, or as Cam corrected, "homos," were indulging in mixed drinks with fervent enthusiasm. Jay stumbled upon them just as he approached the counter, seemingly oblivious to the fact that, in his aversion to one new experience, he was plunging headfirst into another.
Jay, the quintessential macho man whose ready wit often bordered on macho bravado, had never been fully supportive of Mitch's lifestyle, at least in Mitch's perception. It turned out that all it took to garner Jay's unqualified endorsement of Mitch's life choices was a night out with his friends. The camaraderie flowed freely, Jay displayed a playful spirit, and Pepper, particularly taken with Jay, called him bright and early the next morning, despite Jay's lingering hangover, to confirm plans for a record-shopping spree in Palm Beach.
Jay, desperate to avoid the outing, attempted to coax Gloria into feigning a debilitating headache on his behalf. Gloria, however, seized the opportunity to playfully betray him—a gesture we couldn't help but commend, considering Jay's rare restraint in refraining from commenting on her breasts. With a mischievous smile and a convincing fake headache, she sent Jay packing with Pepper, who whisked them away in a sports car, complete with a puppy as their co-pilot, for a splendid day of vintage record hunting in Palm Beach.
And with every fiber of our Dusty Springfield-loving beings, we harbored the hope that next week's episode would indeed pick up right where this delightful escapade left off.
