Imagine a tempest in a teapot when the No Cussing Club demanded that "Modern Family" halt the broadcast of an episode featuring 2-year-old Lily joyfully tossing around the F-bomb. Our response? "What the f*ck?"—but not in jest. It's not merely because showrunner Steven Levitan has clarified that tiny actress Aubrey Anderson-Emmons was coached to say "fudge" instead of the actual expletive, nor because the offending word was meticulously beeped every time Lily uttered it. The real astonishment stems from the fact that "Modern Family" is among the least vulgar sitcoms gracing network television. Should the No Cussing Club wish to don their Claire Dunphy hats (complete with scolding, finger-wagging, and an inability to see the humor in lighthearted situations), we propose they redirect their wrath towards NBC, which airs an hour before "Modern Family." For sheer filthiness, Baby Lily doesn't hold a candle to Whitney or Chelsea. At the very least, we're grateful that "Modern Family" garnered extra publicity for last night's episode, one of the strongest installments in an otherwise uneven third season, with plotlines intertwining seamlessly—a perfect blend of cuteness and wit.
The Lily-cussing saga unfolds when Mitchell and Cameron assist her in rehearsing for her role as a flower girl at an impending wedding. We're never privy to the identities of the bride and groom, the rationale behind their quirky wedding attire, or the reason for inviting the entire extended family. But who really cares? This is Lily's moment to shine—literally and figuratively. Soon, she'll be adorned in a gaudy, light-up blue dress that Luke compares to a Lite Brite, later worrying it might induce seizures. Lily executes a charming practice run, tossing rose petals just as Cam instructed. It's enchanting—until she drops her tiny basket and, channeling her inner George Carlin, unleashes the first of many beeped-out "f*cks." Mitchell is horrified, while Cam can't suppress his laughter. "You know I have two weaknesses," he giggles, "children cursing and old people rapping."
They initially decide to ignore it, reasoning that confronting Lily would only lend more significance to the word (much like the No Cussing Club's overreaction). How delightful to witness Cam and Mitchell behaving so sensibly! But as Lily repeats the naughty word, ad infinitum—especially knowing it amuses Cam—they threaten her with punishments and even contemplate skipping the wedding (when Cam suggests bowing out by citing the injustice of gay marriage, Mitchell retorts, "Oh, now we're political? We leave town during gay pride weekend because we don't like traffic?"). They place Lily under verbal quarantine and cross their fingers. And at the wedding, their very own Little Bo Peep marches down the aisle. Seeing Cam in tears (did anyone really think Cam wouldn't cry at a wedding?), she offers her dad a comic reprieve: more bleeps. And guess what? The entire congregation bursts into laughter at her antics. Because, I'm sorry, anti-cussing crusaders, witnessing babies curse is undeniably hilarious.
Claire Dunphy, in desperate need of a good laugh, has had quite a trying day. It all commences as she gears up to engage in a debate with Councilman Duane Bailey (welcome back, David Cross, how we've missed you!). Hooray for the ingenious reintroduction of this narrative thread, and in such a delightfully meta manner: This episode revolves around Claire's quest for redemption in the eyes of her critics, whom we'd like to believe encompass TV critics, bloggers, internet commenters, as well as potential voters. When the local newspaper publishes that voters perceive Claire as "angry and unlikeable," the Dunphy family stages a mock debate, where they thoughtfully highlight Claire's off-putting antics. Phil reassures her, "You're not unlikeable; you just seem unlikeable." Thus, the family convenes, with Phil portraying Duane and the kids acting as a focus group, armed with buzzers and horns from an Operation game, poised to call out any behavior that might tarnish Claire's image. This includes eye rolling, lip pursing, face touching, scolding, sarcasm, and displaying her less favorable side (which side that is depends on whom you ask). Luke even chimes in with a "you suck!" (did you catch that, No Cussing Club?), preparing Claire for potential hecklers. For those who have labeled Claire as too shrill, mean, or screechy, this is their moment of comeuppance. Yet somehow, Claire manages to pull herself together for the debate. She embodies the strength, confidence, power, and nerdiness that Alex encourages her to display, making it refreshing to witness Claire's triumph. That is, until her slick opponent brings up the incident where her husband was questioned for lewd behavior at a hotel last year, revisiting the Valentine's Day fiasco with Clive Bixby. "Are you sex freaks?" an audience member inquires, causing Claire to lose her composure. "It's like watching the Hindenberg crash," Jay whispers to Gloria as Claire unleashes every tic, stutter, and nervous, angry mannerism she has been striving to suppress. Remember Phil's meltdown at the real estate seminar last week? Well, this scene pays off in full. It's embarrassing, frenetic, and quintessentially Claire. And Phil's rambling attempt to salvage the situation only makes it worse (and funnier). "I am Phil Dunphy, and I am not a pervert," he begins, marking the descent into chaos.
The silver lining? The video from Claire's local debate becomes a viral sensation. "Some sick bastard Autotuned me," Phil laments, and we eagerly anticipate the sight of that incredible YouTube video (featuring Claire's horrified, sexualized reactions) populating our Tumblr dashboards. Although we're somewhat irked at Phil for not allowing Claire to handle her own battle. We also hope this is merely a hurdle for Claire's campaign; she's our favorite candidate of 2012, second only to Leslie Knope.
Another YouTube video we yearn to see is one of Stella the French Bulldog diving into Jay's pool. Apparently, she's been indulging in this activity quite frequently lately, prompting Jay to jump in after her to rescue his beloved pup, despite her apparent swimming prowess (really, do we need to call PETA?). Jay can't bear to let her out of his sight, so they bring her to Claire's debate. Here, Duane Bailey, the ultimate p whisperer, convinces them that dogs can indeed suffer from suicidal tendencies. It may not be as sensational as feline AIDS, but it's a genuine issue. Jay becomes convinced that Stella is in suicidal despair because Gloria doesn't like her, which is somewhat absurd. However, Gloria redeems herself when, all dressed up for the wedding, Stella attempts to drown herself in the pool once more. Gloria plunges in after her, dress, hair, and all. "Don't do it, Stella," she cries, "I don't hate you!" She genuinely loves Stella, who only jumped into the pool in the first place to chase a squeaky toy that got stuck in the pool filter. We only wish that when the Modern Family cast accepted their Best Comedy award at the Golden Globes last Sunday night, they had followed The Artist's lead and let this talented dog share the glory. What a lovely moment that would have been!
