In this episode of "Modern Family," nestled beneath a veneer of humor, lay profound familial themes that resonate deeply. Haley's nonchalant opening remark about a job granting one a sense of worth — prefaced with a casual "no offense, mom" — though not meant maliciously nor dwelled upon, subtly evokes a poignant undertone. Halfway through the half-hour comedy, we are privy to a revelation: Claire, the devoted homemaker, activist, and community project leader, has faced repeated rejections from five job applications in recent weeks. She finds herself in a tailspin, grappling with the notion of being a financial bystander in her three-child, single-income household. "I did go to college, you know? I yearn to contribute to my children's education and to be able to gift my husband something with money I've earned myself," she laments. The fact that Claire's job hunt has been a hidden struggle, unrevealed until now, adds to its poignancy and realism. Her quest feels awkward, perhaps even tinged with shame, as she confronts the inadequacy of her role as a stay-at-home mom. She yearns for fulfillment. As I've said: Dark, yet deeply realistic.
Claire's subsequent mention of a pair of dreamy boots might initially strike as a fleeting display of materialism, but let's not discount it so easily. Claire can be both selfish and an unwaveringly selfless parent and wife. People are multifaceted; they possess myriad dimensions.
One of the show's greatest strengths lies in its portrayal of children maturing while the adults remain frozen in a liminal space between adolescence and full adulthood. Phil's fortune-cookie wisdom for Haley on her maiden workday sounds like a generic parenting tip culled from an online search: "Work hard, keep your eyes on the prize, stay focused." It promises an intriguing arc as Haley and her parents inch closer to a dynamic of equals. They can't indefinitely sustain the traditional parent-teen divide.
Mitchell's litany of pet peeves concludes with Farm, Fizbo, and Farmbo, the first of which is particularly heartbreaking given Cam's endless supply of farm tales. Tonight, Cam's stories are haunted by the full name of Billy-Bob Sheinberg. (Fun trivia: If your birthplace was a farm, you must possess a hyphenated first name with two syllables followed by a hyphen and one syllable, coupled with a two-syllable surname.)
Oddly enough, have you noticed the scarcity of interactions between Luke and Claire? Can anyone recall a recent scene where they shared a confidential moment? Their couch scene felt oddly out of sync.
Gloria has been engaging in a whimsical conversation with her unborn child through a microphone and belly suction cups, showcasing the fetus the wonders of their abode, no doubt highlighting Jay's impressive shoe collection that must have left the tiny one in awe. Meanwhile, Jay persists in his quirky ritual of affirming the baby's femininity by referring to it as a boy, uttering his philosophical catchphrase with a hermit-like demeanor: "Ah, you'll do whatever you please; why bother with predictions?" Manny, in his usual humorous fashion, mirrored Jay's all-occasion wisdom when he quipped to his sister-to-be, in Jay's very tone, "Get accustomed to that. Sometimes, you just have to let go – and then he'll indulge in some sherbet and drift off into dreamland."
The back-and-forth between the sensitive Manny and the sporty Luke, ever-dependable for comic gold, sparkled with dynamite wit. "You must keep your eyes peeled!" Manny exclaimed. "It's unnatural to have a ball soaring towards your face!" Luke countered with, "Will you choke up a bit?" to which Manny replied dryly, "Probably when they play the national anthem." And with that, Luke expertly beaned Manny with the ball – twice!
The topic of house-flipping emerged, setting the stage for Phil's brilliantly emotional maneuver, a masterpiece of slapstick woven into the tapestry of family dynamics, sans pies but equally hilarious. We found ourselves plunged into a vortex of blackmail, dream-cheerleading, and fiscal honesty clashing. Not to be overlooked was Mitchell's peculiar running gait, a sight to behold.
Mitchell, framed like a Bond villain incarnate in shades of darkness, with Larry the white villainous cat perched on his lap, squared off against Phil "Chicken's My Middle Name" Dunphy. Phil dramatically perched himself on the piano, transforming the scene into a genre parody – a passive-aggressive thriller where suspense stemmed from the resentment landmines buried beneath every interaction.
Gloria's impending bundle of joy is bound to find catharsis in Vulture's supercut of her belting out tunes. Jay's comment on Gloria's singing aspirations – "That's akin to bathing with a toaster" – was priceless. He's learning to reign in his outdated, questionable sentiments, keeping them to himself, albeit occasionally sharing them with the ever-watchful cameramen. Jay seizing the mic and hamming it up in a macho attempt to bond with the child was invaluable. Though his antics were ironically meant to distract Gloria, he secretly reveled in every moment.
