The pacing was frantic yet executed with seamless finesse, brimming with quick-witted one-liners. Minor misunderstandings unravelled into moderately revealing moments, interwoven with a hint of sentimentality. Interspersed were hilarious pratfalls and a cozy family brunch, all hallmarks of a quintessential episode of "Modern Family," which shone brightly last night, complete with personalized frittatas as a delightful twist. While the formula thrives on its charm, occasionally opting for repetition over grand narrative arcs, the revelations unveiled were, albeit unsurprising (Claire Dunphy’s lack of yoga-guru poise being a given), crafted to elicit heartfelt and even subtly poignant scenes amidst the playful chaos.
Yet, let us not dwell on these revelations just yet. Let’s elevate Luke’s narrative thread to center stage, for after an entire season of witnessing him verbally spar with his cousin Lily, fueled by unabashed animosity that stealing scenes has almost become second nature to him, he truly deserves the spotlight. As the rest of the family gushed over Lily’s cuteness during brunch, the camera pivoted to Luke and Manny, drowned with palpable resentment – they, too, once held the title of the adorable ones. “We need to take her down,” Luke muttered, his eyes gleaming with malice. Together, they conjured a prank (perhaps hinting at Luke’s hidden talent as a scheming genius, capable of orchestrating an intricately designed trap to humble Lily) that involved dominoes, cookies as lure, and a strategically positioned carton of milk poised for disaster. Inevitably, the plot took an unexpected turn – Cam was the unsuspecting victim, ending up in a comical splatter on the kitchen tiles. (This fortuitous turn presented Cam the perfect excuse to feign a back injury, thus securing some solitary time at the Dunphy residence to uncover the elusive Tupperware that Claire insisted she had already returned, a quest to validate his own rightness.)
But our young protagonists had other matters to ponder. Luke yearned to assist Manny in impressing his latest crush, Miranda, described as “a dream wrapped in a wish poured into jeggings.” When Cam offered them a modest fee to wash his car (anything to keep them occupied and out of his plastic-hunting way), Luke seized the keys, blasting some tunes, and together with Manny, embarked on a leisurely yet exhilarating joyride past Miranda’s house. It seemed Miranda had a penchant for bad boys, and Luke and Manny’s Thelma and Louise-esque antics certainly qualified as such. Their thrill ride caught Miranda’s attention and inspired an epiphany for the boys: they could concede the cuteness crown to Lily, for they were the bad boys now. Truly, joyriding in Cam’s car qualified as bad-boy behavior of the highest order! It will be fascinating to observe if Luke’s war with Lily has indeed reached a truce next week, and whether Manny can maintain his swagger – balancing the role of a bad boy and a mama’s boy is, after all, no mean feat.
Apparently, the veil of secrecy in familial circles lifts after some two decades, leaving Luke and Manny with many moons yet to come before they can unveil today's mischievous escapades. Over brunch, Claire confessionally unveils her past misdemeanors, revealing how, in her rebellious youth (wouldn't we cherish a glimpse into those days!), she framed her mother for Jay's ruined car. Jay, in turn, reciprocates with his own confession (we all know he missed a pivotal Fire & Nice figure-skating semifinal that left him yearning). Laughter and forgiveness ensue.
Mitchell joins the merrymaking by spilling the beans on a golfing escapade with Jay. It turns out that Jay's celebrated hole-in-one was actually a mitchellian mischief; bored, Mitchell nudged the ball into the hole "from the brink of that sandy hazard." Suddenly, the mirth turns sour. Jay's golf cronies have been hailing him as "Ace" and treating him to lemonades ever since, and this revelation stirs serious waves.
The underlying drama between Mitchell and Jay unfolds like a well-worn narrative, with both still grappling to fully comprehend each other's values and inner workings. For Jay, it's a matter of honor among his golfing peers (a trio of buffoons, each harboring their own secrets and insecurities). For Mitchell, it's the fear of tarnishing cherished memories of their bonding over that mythical hole-in-one, followed by a celebratory night where Jay introduced him to his first beer. Jay corrects him, clarifying that it was indeed about the hole-in-one and that the beer came after Mitchell's disaster-struck 14th birthday. In that fleeting moment, we catch a glimpse of Jay's sentimental side – a side that requires coaxing to unveil (unless you're a French bulldog, that is) and just as swiftly retreats. Until the next episode, at least.
If the Mitchell-Jay scene was heartwarming yet somewhat predictable, then the minor breakthrough between Claire and Gloria was a delightful surprise. When Claire dashes out for a yoga class, Gloria eagerly trails after her, eager to participate. It seems poised to become a typical scenario where Gloria goes to great lengths to foster a relationship with Claire, only to be blithely rejected. But this time, after attempting various diversions and fibs, Claire lets Gloria in on a secret: her sacred stress-relief sanctuary is not the yoga studio but the shooting range. (Have suburban strip malls now adjoined shooting ranges to nail salons?) It's Claire's Cheers – a place where everyone knows her name. Her rationale to Gloria? "I live with four teenagers. You live with two adults." A valid point! As Claire and Gloria shoot together, we're reminded that such familial bonding over firearms hasn't occurred since their Wyoming ranch adventure. Sigh.
Another character we haven't encountered since our Wyoming adventures is Dylan, Haley's endearing yet absent-minded beau, whose journey back from the ranch never materialized. In this episode, his absence looms heavily as Alex, Haley, and Phil escort Lily and her doll, an innocent bystander in the cookies-and-milk fiasco, to seek treatment from the on-duty physician at My Sweet Companion store, which accepts insurance.
En route to the mall, Phil, through a clever play on words that subtly equates aversion with virginity, discovers that his little girl isn't as innocent as he once believed. As the doctor explains that Lily's doll will never regain full mobility in its shoulder joint, Haley reassures Phil, "Dad, she's still a sweet little doll." Phil responds, "No, she's broken." This moment underscores the show's documentary charm, as Phil prepares for a quintessential "cool dad" interaction with Haley. Addressing the camera as if speaking directly to us, the audience, he conveys his understanding that sex is a natural aspect of life, expressing his hope that Haley is being cautious and feels comfortable confiding in him. However, he fails to articulate these sentiments to Haley herself. Yet, his words to us suffice, as when she asks whether he prefers a counter or a booth at the mall food court, he replies, "Whatever seems right to you, I trust you." They hug, and there's no need for a melodramatic Danny Tanner-esque speech or a public service announcement. Phil has said all we longed to hear, and Haley already understands, eliminating the necessity to reiterate it to her.
Back at home, sitting on the couch, Haley gazes at the camera with a tear-streaked face, devoid of even a hint of sarcasm, and utters, "I have a cool dad." This restraint, far more profound than a grand emotional outpouring, lends this episode its unique allure.
