Mitch and Cam, deep into the night, engage in a meticulous swap of shelf liners—those unsung heroes of kitchen hygiene designed to keep dishes pristine and disease-free. The mere mention of "shelf-paper" sparks an epiphany: the creative minds behind "Modern Family" must harbor an expansive bulletin board brimming with the most mundane yet quintessential household items, akin to a domestic Pokédex waiting to be completed. Enter Elizabeth Banks, the enigmatic Effie Trinket herself, reprising her role as Sal, Mitch and Cam's cherished chum. She stands poised to leave her 2009 shadow behind and embark on a commitment to another human—a vow she once made solemnly to libations. Marriage, perhaps? Gay marriage earns yet another fleeting, almost imperceptible mention, swiftly dispatched with a whimsical "hashtag: politics" from Mitch, whose proficiency with Twitter was previously unknown to me.
Next, prepare for "#Gloriabreastfeedingjoke," an episode immersed in mammary mayhem, perfectly prescribed by a doctor whose prescription pad reads more like Seth MacFarlane's Oscar opening number, "We Saw Your Boobs." Gloria, visibly miffed, playfully dubs Fulgenio Joe as "your baby" in a conversation with Jay. Could there be a more cringe-worthy phrase than couples adopting such endearments? Your daughter causes a stir at school, your son indulges in rock-munching, your child dismantles my very existence. Come on, folks, we're all passengers on this life's journey together.
Claire's mother, suspecting her eldest daughter has circled the dark side of the lunar landscape and is poised for a return to Planet Claire—where workout gear is the de facto attire—anxiously extends an invitation for a grand soiree. All systems are a-go. Mom will arrive at the front door, ready to chauffeur her daughter at seven sharp. Meanwhile, Manny has been artistically celebrating the female form with such prolificacy and professionalism that even the school janitor has taken a few pieces for his personal gallery.
Phil and Luke engage in an oddly cryptic conversation. "What secrets are you harboring?" Phil probes. "Porn, you say?" Luke's response is both unexpected and shocking. "Don't feed me that bs!" rather than acknowledging a crush doesn't quite add up. Luke enlists Phil as his suave wordsmith, a twist indeed. (And speaking of decorating, remember our recent chat about the Dunphy's interior design? Luke's room seems overly formal for someone his age, akin to a museum curator's study rather than a teenager's haven. Perhaps he could add some personality with some tape and tacks, and perhaps tone down the framed art collection.)
Cam and Mitch yearn for Sal to embrace a more settled, 'mature' lifestyle akin to theirs. Their Saturday Game Night could really use some fresh faces to ensure its continued existence. However, Sal's love for French kissing random bartenders may make her an unlikely candidate. Time will tell. When Sal utters the phrase "take a whiz," everyone's minds inevitably wander to Leslie Knope and her infamous whiz palace.
Manny remains stoic, seemingly impervious to the grossness suggested by his mother's claim that her body inspired his art. Instead, his focus is on Daliya, the new hire at the Delgado-Pritchett Estate. "She was my muse! Combine that with an unyielding body, and I think we've found a soulmate," Manny confides with a hint of excitement. He and Sal could co-host a seminar titled 'Smoking Hot = Perfect Mate.'
Luke, drenched in cologne, greets his mall restaurant date with the same palpable anxiety Claire recently exhibited when meeting her daughter's. Luke, however, has the added advantage of inheriting his father's talent for nonsensical vrbal diarrhea.
As for Alex, we finally uncover her whereabouts: she's been playing cello with Electric Light Dorkestra, quite possibly traveling the globe. Haley ditches her mother-daughter date only to return later, leaving us puzzled and intrigued.
Phil finds himself in a precarious position, skillfully fending off the seductive advances of his son's date's mesmerizing mother. "I just want to clarify," Phil utters, "because you've undone a button, and I adore my wife deeply." Contemplating Phil's internal monologue is a delightful pastime of mine. (In truth, it ranks second to envisioning all the absurd escapades Phil indulges in solo, particularly his disastrous stand-up comedy routines, meticulously crafted and rehearsed in the privacy of his own space.) The situation takes a bizarre turn. They end up exchanging inappropriate touches. And just like that, weirdness persists.
Meanwhile, Manny is in the midst of his most romantic escapade yet. He's dishing out pizza, tiramisu, and menus that double as love poems, setting the scene with candles aglow, akin to a Madonna music video. Unfortunately for Manny, his mother walks in at the most inopportune moment, and once again, love eludes him.
Sal, on the other hand, is poised to tie the knot with her handsome beau, who, it seemed, might not possess the gift of gab. Wait, scratch that—he does speak. His lips move, sounds emanate. He shares Sal's struggle with kissing strangers. How endearing!
The episode saves the cream for the crop, granting us some of Lily's briefest yet most exquisite screen time ever. This young lady has perfected her sass. "I don't like you," she declares. "I'll get over it," she shrugs.
Final reflections: Is this season headed somewhere specific? We've surpassed the two-thirds mark, and I find myself pondering if there's a cohesive narrative thread weaving together these weekly installments of stellar comedy, occasional cliche humor, and heartwarming moments. Mitch and Cam decided early on to shelve (or scrap altogether?) the idea of adopting a second child. Haley's college adventure fizzled out. Jay and Gloria's baby has arrived and is, well, merely existing. ("People ask, 'What's your baby like?' I don't know—she's a bloody baby!" as Louis C.K. would quip.) Mitch, Cam, Phil, and Claire embarked on a house-flipping venture together; months later, they're still at square one. I'm just trying to gauge what to anticipate, whether the overarching plot points will come crashing down in the final stretch of episodes or if they've vanished for good, leaving us to simply meander and enjoy the ride. Either way, a heads-up would be appreciated.
