Last Wednesday's family escapade at the roller rink set a high bar, making the penultimate episode of season four a challenging act to emulate, unfolding more like a half-assed journey through mediocrity. Unusual circumstances and bizarre pressures confront each family member, ingredients that might typically brew an enthralling episode. Alas, this one barely scratches the surface, despite the entertaining detour with the Dunphys.
Phil, Claire, and their entourage kickstart the episode with a series of sharp, well-honed wits ("This house still harbors its secrets," "Pete Johnson? Only one?"). Phil, borrowing a sleek RV, christens it after one of the most timeless country tunes ever (and apparently, he also named a llama Jolene). His summer fantasy of a family road trip to Yellowstone seems quaintly, almost cliché-American, until I recall my wife and I contemplating the exact same adventure. Claire quips, "You shoulda called it the Roman, 'cause that’s what we’re about to be doin’," to which Phil, bewildered, misses another golden opportunity to high-five his wife for her punny prowess. A heartbeat later, Claire adds, "Ten days on the road with those kids? Winnebag-no." Seriously, Phil—she could out-pun you in a heartbeat. Admit defeat.
On the road, Phil's perpetual grin fades into a blissful haze, while Claire's terror escalates at her family's refusal to regress into a pack of wild animals. The eerie harmony among them is unsettling—until you ponder the significance of vacations for families confined within the mundane cages of daily life. Claire desperately craves a friend who'd remind her, "You need a vacation," triggering the part of her brain that whispers, "Ah, yes, there lies a magical elixir for family discord: Vacation is thy salvation." (Claire's loving disclaimers/self-assurances at the tail end of her kid-bashing soliloquies are a delight too.)
(Side note: If you missed last week's Jimmy Kimmel clip, Julie Bowen knows you think she's anorexic, and she couldn't care less.)
Yet, Claire's anxiety runs deep; she'd rather cling to her perception of familial madness than embrace a fleeting moment of unusual peace. Especially if she herself fuels the dysfunction while Phil soothes it. Indeed, Claire has embarked on a full-blown shame spiral...until Haley slaps Alex across the face, unleashing a whirlwind of Dunphy chaos. It's the perfect storm for Phil to slip up and reveal his lack of prowess behind the wheel while of this behemoth, Claire gleefully declares, "I told you so" about his misjudgment of his family's barbarism. "I know that tone—you're making a point!" Phil gasps. His dream of witnessing the sun "dancing off the Pacific" with his Norman Rockwell-esque family teeters on the brink of extinction.
Phil finds himself amidst a somber gathering of Overwhelmed and Depressed Winnebago Dads perched majestically atop a cliff, culminating in an embrace Luke describes as "a supersad dudehug," encapsulating the shared sentiment of the attendees. Haley, influenced by her Saturday-morning-cartoon worldview, mistakenly refers to Yellowstone as Jellystone. Meanwhile, Claire and the children hold a poignant family roundtable discussion in Phil's absence, grappling with feelings of distance and awkward, regrettable incidents — Luke's enrollment in summer school due to his struggle with pre-algebra, Alex's double dating fiasco resulting in rejection from both suitors, and Haley's disqualification from becoming a Laker Girl. Upon his return, Phil is thrilled to discover his family performing Haley's audition routine, exclaiming, "Dream come true! Context be damned!" Driven by his unwavering commitment to being the ultimate dad and person, Phil decides to master Haley's entire routine.
Elsewhere, in the gymnasium, Cam teaches Lily a sleek Beyoncé move, highlighting the stark contrast between his overenthusiastic aspirations for Lily's stardom and Mitch's more laid-back approach, content with her simply enjoying her gymnastics class. Cam and Mitch embody the duality of parental overinvolvement and underinvolvement, illustrating their distinct methods of navigating expectations and disappointment.
Mitch, who never excelled as an elite school athlete, struggles to reconcile with Lily's genuine success in a sport he barely understands. He wonders about this unfamiliar territory while cheering maniacally, adopting a macho sports dad persona (a nod to an earlier episode where Luke taught him handball so Mitch could outplay a child in the schoolyard). Cam and Mitch narrowly avoid public revelations of their parenting mishaps, such as the Tooth Fairy incident involving Lily's unexpected $100 windfall. However, this time, they cannot escape notice: unversed in the competitive etiquette, Mitch inadvertently cheers when another gymnast falls off the balance beam, potentially benefiting Lily. While many parental gatherings might have descended upon Mitch like bees on a flower, this time, it's mostly glares — still excruciatingly awkward.
Realizing that the macho act isn't for him, Mitch adopts an ultra-benevolent stance, embracing the belief that "Every Child Is a Perfect Flower." Cam, having held onto the line "ticking time bun" all season, reveals it at an inopportune moment. Their combined efforts inadvertently shame Lily in front of everyone, labeling her a loser and leading to their ban from all future gymnastics events. Wasn't Mitch already banned from Lily's school following the handball fiasco? Someone should keep a list.
Gloria pounds on the door, calling out each family member's name with a determined flair. She slips inside with the stealth of a cat burglar, brooking no inquiries about her unorthodox entrance tactics. Together with Jay, they embark on a clandestine mission of snooping, while Manny takes it upon himself to educate his mother on the fact that such behavior has been frowned upon not merely recently, but since the dawn of civilized interaction. (An intriguing snippet gleaned from their espionage: Phil, who was previously spotted bouncing on a trampoline earlier this season, subscribes to "Bounce!", a trampoline magazine. Kudos to the writers for that seamless continuity!)
Gloria, attempting to soothe Manny with her usual affectionate squeeze, little realizes that the young poet has been penning dark musings titled "The Umbilical Noose" and "Smother Nature." Manny is poised for an artistic rebellion.
Gloria and Jay's eavesdropping escapades lead them to Cam and Mitch's abode, where their exclusion from recent gatherings looms larger with each passing revelation. It transpires that Pepper was present at a recent game night, while they were notably absent. Gloria, whose lackluster charades skills were previously spotlighted, also proves herself less than adept at Pictionary—a revelation that seemingly explains their consistent absences from such social gatherings.
Just as this damning truth unfolds, a delivery man materializes in the doorway with an unsettling lack of announcement, neither knocking nor ringing the bell. Jay, desperate to validate his Pictionary prowess and Gloria's deficiency, hastily sketches a cat instead of signing for the package. The delivery man accurately guesses the clue, allowing Jay to triumphantly declare himself the Picasso of party games, his reputation untainted.
Manny, with a wisdom beyond his years, drops a bombshell on his occasionally exasperating parents: "The question isn't why you two weren't invited, it's why you're ever invited at all." Suddenly, the pressing question of Jay and Gloria's baby's whereabouts comes rushing back—where, indeed, is that cherubic bundle? Manny's cunning maneuvering underscores his youthful naivety intertwined with the childish antics of his own parents. But, seriously, where is that baby?
