When Phil Dunphy inquisitively probes Luke, the ever-ingenious trickster, about his secret method for conjuring up phony tears, Luke responds solemnly, "The Three Stooges have all breathed their last." Let us delve into last night's episode of Modern Family, helmed by none other than the show's creator, Steven Levitan, a heartfelt tribute to those legends of slapstick comedy. This episode unabashedly embraced broad humor, shunning any semblance of subtlety, showcasing dramatic plunges into shrubbery, grocery store antics, and Manny exuberantly cheering on a junior high mascot, adorned in sparklers and shaking their booty (hail to the Franklin Mustangs!). Oh, and did we forget to mention the array of clowns? Because they were abundant, and not a single clown-related punchline was spared. The episode was replete with comedic stumbles, sprays of spit, honking rubber horns, balloon animals, and even a Mini Cooper functioning as a contemporary clown car. While it may not have been the most imaginative episode of the season, it was undeniably delightful to witness the cast, accompanied by two luminous guest stars, indulging in their wildest fantasies.
The absurdity commences instantaneously, as we discover that Cameron's clown college professor and mentor has passed away. Cameron, alongside his former classmates and the ever-cringing Mitchell, converge for a funeral ceremony of the utmost silliness, capped off with the most heartfelt whipped-cream pie throwing ever witnessed. Here, we uncover that Cam's clown alter ego was not always a solo act: he was once half of the legendary comic duo, Fizbo & Lewis. They were akin to the Beatles (as Mitchell snarkily interjects throughout the evening), but of children's parties, until Cam decided he couldn't juggle a relationship and a clown career, leading to the duo's breakup. (It seems that even in the realm of Modern Family, a clown struggles to balance family and career.)
Bobby Cannavale portrays Lewis, the bitter half of the duo, as a disheveled yet charismatic alcoholic clown with a deep voice and problematic anger issues, who reunites with his former partner to recapture a glimpse of their glory days. Initially, it goes swimmingly — Fizbo & Lewis, under the influence, teach Lily how to perform spit takes (much to Mitchell's consternation), and they even secure a weekend gig (yes, Mitchell, we know — it's a birthday party). We revisit the familiar struggle between Cam and Mitch, where Cam is, quite literally, a clown ("If you squeeze me, do I not honk?") and Mitchell is the perpetual eye roller, who ruins all the fun. So, let us toast this episode with a generous squirt of tequila from a colossal fake flower, for eschewing a lengthy, sentimental speech at the end about the need for mutual understanding. It suffices for Mitchell to witness Fizbo on stage, entertaining the audience, making them giggle, and shining as a star. He gets it. That is, until Lewis confronts his abandonment issues by choking Cam in the most violent scene the duo has ever embarked upon.
Even sans the clownish makeup that might "whiten" his visage, Phil exudes an unmistakable air of genuine goofiness, carrying himself with an endearing childlike innocence. His polar opposite, Ellen Barkin's portrayal of Mitzi Roth, Phil's real estate broker rival, serves as a delightful foil. Mitzi is a jaded soul who has seen it all, especially if "it all" happens to be the notorious Elm Street. She is a Grade-A bully, clad in a power suit and topped with a helmet of blonde hair, her once expressive beauty now somewhat muted, her voice bearing an uncanny resemblance to a tipsy Carol Channing's (indeed, one couldn't help but anticipate Mitzi bursting into "Hello, Dolly!"). If Barkin's comic timing lags slightly, a fraction slower than the rapid-fire pace we've come to expect from the show, it only heightens our fascination with her performance.
Phil, brimming with confidence, believes he's on the cusp of securing the biggest account of his career until Mitzi intervenes, staging a Fizbo-esque fall amidst the clients' bushes, falsely accusing Phil of harboring anger issues ("I do not have anger issues!" he exclaims), and swooping in to snatch the clients right from under his nose (she even dubs Phil "Jazz Hands"). Phil, disheartened, brushes aside Claire's attempt to impart wisdom, instead taking Luke's advice to play as dirty as Mitzi. When Mitzi proves too crafty to fall for Phil's sly spy pen trick, designed to capture her incriminating confession, Phil enlists Luke's aid. Luke corners Mitzi in the cereal aisle of the grocery store, mentioning college tuition, balloon payments, and how wonderful his dad is. Throwing in a few crocodile tears for good measure, Mitzi is so swayed by Luke's emotional manipulation that she agrees to back down and release the clients. Seriously? She can't be fooled by a spy pen, but a few fake tears do the trick? If the resolution seems somewhat contrived, we can at least cherish the hope that Barkin will return for another round against Phil, who could certainly benefit from a formidable blonde adversary who isn't his wife.
Meanwhile, at the Pritchett-Delgado abode, Jay finds himself acting quite the clown. Manny has befriended the coolest kid in school, prompting both Jay and Gloria to question Griffin's motives for befriending the decidedly uncool Manny. Jay is convinced that Griffin, having seen Jay cruise around on his motorcycle with Fonzie-like cool, is using Manny to get closer to him. So, when Griffin arrives at the door (cue a montage of Manny's uncool door-answering antics), Jay enacts a ridiculous Fonzie routine: clad in a leather jacket, white T-shirt, and shades, ready to regale Griffin with tales of his basketball prowess. But Jay has evidently forgotten how the average teenage boy's mind operates. It becomes evident that Griffin's sole reasons for visiting are Gloria's breasts. Though we don't witness a bikini-clad Gloria attending the pool party Griffin so generously invited the entire family to, Sofia Vergara's breasts still make quite the impression (SNL, no doubt, hopes for the same when she hosts this Saturday). But the last laugh belongs to Manny, who couldn't care less about Griffin ("He's a doorknob"). Manny is merely using him to get closer to his sister, Chloe. Touché, Manny. You, my friend, are cooler than they come.
Amidst a night replete with outlandish scenarios and sheer madness, it's a delightful breath of fresh air to witness Claire, Haley, and Alex grappling with a vexing concern that truly resonates with the modern family dynamic. Claire has embarked on her social media journey, with Phil, Mitchell, and even Adele confirming her as a Facebook friend—a platform Claire clearly has much to master. Meanwhile, Alex and Haley have been conveniently overlooking her friend requests. Throughout the episode, Claire is consumed by hurt feelings, believing her own flesh and blood don't wish to befriend her online—and understandably so. Who knows what awkward family snapshots she might share or what intimate secrets she might stumble upon? The irony strikes Claire hard when, innocuously glancing at her wall with her daughters peering over her shoulder, she discovers an album titled "Spring Break 1990, New Orleans," tagged by a college acquaintance. Alex's playful inquiry, "Why are you drinking out of a funnel?" sends Claire into a tailspin. "Tear down the wall!" she screams, frantically slamming her laptop shut. Anything to shield her daughters from the revelation that she, too, was once a carefree, funnel-sipping clown of youth.
