This Thanksgiving, we find ourselves at a pivotal juncture, posing an intriguing inquiry: What Would Phil Dunphy Do? Should it entail whimsical musings, absurd impersonations, lenient parenting choices, or an innocent, childlike wonder and earnestness, it undoubtedly bears the hallmark of Phil Dunphy. Last night's installment of 'Modern Family' delved into one of its most recognizable narratives, metaphorically cleaving the family into two diametrically opposed factions: the pragmatic Pritchetts versus the dreamy-eyed optimists, epitomized by Phil and his allies. The intricate dance between the three core couples—each embodying an Abbott and Costello-esque dynamic of straight-laced versus eccentric—has consistently fueled the show's vitality. While this recurring theme occasionally compromises narrative and character progression, it never fails to elicit hearty laughter.
The saga commences with a visit from Kenneth, a former neighborhood youth who once adored Phil. A decade hence, Kenneth (portrayed by Josh Gad of 'The Book of Mormon' fame) has transformed into a slightly disheveled yet endearing figure, adorned with sideburns and a green hoodie—fashion shorthand for a twenty-something who might be a college dropout or an Internet millionaire, or perhaps both. Indeed, Kenneth is both; he has journeyed to town with aspirations of acquiring a blimp. He owes his ambitious endeavors to Phil, who exhorted him to heed his heart. Their reunion is marked by an over-the-top handshake, complete with step-dancing and belly slaps, leaving Claire thoroughly revolted as per usual. Meanwhile, Phil, Luke, and Haley embrace Kenneth's success warmly, while Claire responds with harsh, dismissive disdain (apparently haunted by Kenneth's lingering gaze from his youth, which somehow justifies her bitchiness). Her reaction serves as a catalyst; when Haley accidentally dents Claire's car later, she and a guilt-ridden Alex go to great lengths to conceal it from Claire—for she is terrifying indeed!
Only after Kenneth's departure, as Phil and Luke creatively prepare the kitchen for Thanksgiving with bistro-style tables and napkin origami, does Luke ponder why, if Kenneth attributes his success to living by "What Would Phil Dunphy Do," Phil himself isn't wealthy. Claire, ever the pragmatist, quickly dispels this notion by suggesting they opt for one long table and unfold Phil's whimsical napkins. It is Claire who has crushed his dreams. This prompts a glimpse into several of Phil's brilliant ideas that Claire has quashed—such as the rice pudding franchise (have you visited Rice to Riches in Soho? It's a real-life gem!), adult tricycles, and the potentially perilous Real Head Scratcher™. "I love you, Phil," Claire asserts, "but—" "Hold right there," Phil interrupts, "I cherish your 'I love you,' but I'm growing weary of your 'buts.'"
Jay, too, stifles creativity when Manny crafts a Thanksgiving centerpiece that, quite frankly, seems beneath the refined palate of a boy of Manny's superior taste. Yet Manny is immensely proud, having even produced a "making of" video. Gloria, ever supportive, lavishly praises his efforts, reminiscing fondly about the collage he created to help them endure Katrina. Jay, however, believes Manny requires a dose of reality, especially when Manny offers constructive criticism of Jay's legendary rice pilaf ("It just tastes a bit bland…perhaps cumin could enhance it").
As they arrive at the Dunphys for Thanksgiving dinner (Gloria resplendent in her finest animal print attire, naturally), Jay informs Manny that while he is a talented youth, the centerpiece falls short of his potential. Witnessing Manny dejectedly discarding the centerpiece into the trash due to Jay's criticism, Gloria exclaims, "Why? Why must you say such things, Jay?" Phil responds succinctly, "Because he's a Pritchett!"
As Cam recounts (and embellishes upon) his epic punkin chunkin tale yet again, Mitchell can't help but let out his signature Pritchetty skepticism. We've all grown accustomed to Cam's larger-than-life childhood anecdotes, haven't we? This particular story, though straightforward in essence – "Cam and his buds attempting to catapult a pumpkin across a football field" – is far from ordinary in Cam's retelling. It's set against the backdrop of an unusually warm (yet eerily foggy!) November evening in Missouri, featuring a friend named Cody, whose fate in Desert Storm remains shrouded in mystery, and culminating in the pumpkin making a direct hit through "a preacher man's sunroof." When Mitchell dares to question the story's authenticity, Cam takes umbrage. To settle the matter before Thanksgiving dinner, Cam polls the family: who sides with him in believing his punkin chunkin escapade? The family splits down the middle: Jay, Claire, Mitchell, and Alex form the cynical, eye-rolling faction, while the remainder of the brood, including the impressionable Lily, lean towards the dreamier, less grounded side.
Given that this is a Thanksgiving-themed sitcom episode, the dispute's resolution is as predictable as it is entertaining: the entire family ditches the feast Claire painstakingly prepared over eight hours to venture to the school football field for some hands-on punkin chunking. Picture a real-life Angry Birds, minus the eggs and plus pumpkins, with Cam, Jay, and Gloria as the flinging avatars. The Dreamers bubble with excitement, their minds racing with whimsical thoughts ("Do you reckon" this could launch a person?" Luke ponders aloud), while the Realists stand on the sidelines, their skepticism palpable ("Knock, knock. Who's there? Physics," Claire quips, amidst a shared but loving disapproval).However, when the first pumpkin lands with a thud in the field's center, the Realists find themselves unable to gloat – instead, a hint of disappointment creeps in. United by this unexpected twist, both sides collaborate to construct the ultimate pumpkin launcher, one that almost justifies the dent in Claire's car. Cam's voice-over underscores the message: dreamers and realists thrive in symbiosis, their relationships mutually enriching.
Thus concludes another chapter of Modern Family, imparting a life lesson on tolerance and understanding within relationships – a lesson that, while perhaps fleeting, will linger at least until the next episode unfolds. In the meantime, Lily, beware – cousin Luke still nurses a grudge. That last pumpkin could've very well been aimed at you!
