For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though our season four climax was poised to take on a gravity that was… uncharacteristically solemn? The passing of Gracie, Phil's beloved mother whom we had yet to encounter in the flesh, cast a somber shadow. Frank Dunphy, expertly portrayed by Fred Willard, even in his fleeting appearances, has revealed volumes about the origins of Phil's pun-laden wit, trampoline enthusiasm, Clive Bixby obsession, and his irrepressibly quirky nature. It is indeed a pity that we will never witness the unveiling of this enigma's maternal facet.
Indeed, grandma has departed, but this sorrow serves more as a catalyst for vacation hijinks rather than as the somber backdrop that might otherwise dominate the episode. The three ModFam households converge in Florida to be by grandpa's side and support Phil. As this odyssey commences, it is crucial to recall Alex's uniquely profound bond with her grandmother, one that transcends the ties she shares with Luke or Haley.
Claire, determined to be there for Phil in his time of need, finds herself sidelined as Phil clings to his cherished neck pillow for comfort. Gloria arrives fraught with anxiety, her past in Florida intertwined with a notorious illegal establishment known as Quick & Easy casting a long shadow over her. A hyper-efficient security guard in Phil's father's community, compassionate about the family's loss yet uncannily telepathic about Phil's aversion to the No Duck-Feeding rule, insists on bending the rules for some avian treats. Additionally, notice Frank's neighbor's remark that the entire Californian brood resembles a glamorous ensemble of movie stars – could this be a subtle nod to the fact that many of these actors might soon grace the silver screen in more serious roles?
Cameron and Manny are an impeccably matched duo tonight, donning pastel shirts, cream-colored pants rolled up, and cozy footwear. Regrettably, Manny, along with Luke, is underutilized this week. However, the end credits, depicting them as aging, laid-back gentlemen lounging on a porch with rocking chairs, are nothing short of delightful. These young characters are two of the show's most endearing and eccentric figures. Might we kindly request an increase in their screen time for the upcoming season?
As a temporary resident of Florida, Cam discovers that he can charm the local elderly ladies with ease and indulge in juicy Mahjong scandal gossip. It's a paradise for Cam, even if some of these ladies are quick to notice his gay identity and inquisitively ask if he knows a particular gay acquaintance he'd rather forget.
Phil's mother has left behind a shoebox filled with sentimental mementos for the family. Phil is horror-struck by the thought that she might have instructed him to scatter her ashes...into the Pope's face? What an outrageous notion! But no, his mother's actual wish was for Phil to set his father up with a charming lady who resides in the neighborhood. (I don't know about you, but that warms my heart just a little bit.) It seems that Florida is crawling with "scheming harpies" eager to swoop in on the newly single Frank Dunphy, a man who's prone to "follow anything with a casserole." So, Phil has been tasked with ensuring his father is properly taken care of.
The grandkids receive their grandmother's final gifts. Luke, who has never seen a pocket watch before, mistakes the chain for a safety measure to prevent choking on the watch. We'll miss your innocent curiosity, Luke. Alex, who shares a special bond with Grandma Gracie, is disappointed to find that her gift is merely a lighter accompanied by a card reading, "This is a lighter." Burned, indeed?
Meanwhile, Mitchell wins a court case for a stranger while Gloria awaits her turn. Just when I'm thinking we haven't seen much of Mitchell's legal prowess beyond a few blunders, Gloria remarks, "It scares me that winning is such a surprise for you." Mitchell proceeds to defend a string of clients, showcasing his sharp lawyering skills as impressive as his tailored suits. There's a fantastic, swift nod to the Valentine's Day episode from season one, echoing "SHAME!" from Arrested Development. Modern Family has paid homage to Arrested Development several times this season—dare we hope for more playful callbacks and recurring jokes like this in the future? A touch of self-reference wouldn't be the worst fate for ModFam.
Speaking of "Arrested Development," one cannot help but notice how Phil and Claire often engage in a perpetual game of "I Told You So." Could Phil's remark, "I guess it's fair to say you've made a huge mistake," be anything other than a overt homage to the legendary George Oscar Bluth? Any lingering doubts are swiftly dispelled by Claire's verbatim replication, "I've made a huge mistake." One wonders if this is merely a heartfelt nod to "Arrested Development's" comedic heritage, or a meta-acknowledgment hinting at the impending premiere of a new season in just a matter of days. Intriguingly, the Leisure Park security guard cruises around on a vehicle resembling G.O.B.'s iconic mode of transportation, a Segway-like contraption.
The episode contains a delightful burst of laughter in its midst, evoking a sense of nostalgia that extends beyond the summer absence of Luke to the entire show itself. Cam, amidst a punch bowl-stirring session, informs one of his new lady friends that he hates to cause a stir – irony at its finest. Moments later, Jay clarifies to a neighbor that he is Phil's father-in-law, gracefully accepting an apology meant for Phil rather than condolences for a deceased loved one, a common thread of humor throughout the series. The highlight, however, unfolds when Alex and Fred Willard peruse old photographs together. "Grandma looks so happy here," sighs Alex. "Yeah, we were pretty hammered," responds Willard, sharing the nostalgic sentiment. Another gem is Gloria's earnest address to the judge as "your majesty," a moment that still brings a smile to my face when recalled.
Despite the amusement scattered throughout the subplots, this episode feels somewhat disjointed as a finale. It is overloaded with one-dimensional characters we've never encountered before: Cam's grandmas, Jay's Navy-days lover who "has sent more men off to war than Lyndon Johnson," the judge, and the omnipresent yet unnecessary security guard. After a season rich with stunt casting, it's perplexing why none of these roles went to more recognizable actors. That aside, my main grievance is that a more streamlined scale could have crafted a more memorable sendoff. Let's face it: the roller rink episode should have been the grand finale.
One newcomer who truly shines is Annie, a neighbor who listens intently as Phil shares a heartfelt, tear-jerking reminiscence of his mother with a complete stranger. After a season predominantly written for Phil, Ty Burrell gets a half-hour virtually devoid of silliness, a scene that showcases his acting prowess. "She was always doing crazy stuff like this, going out of her way to take care of us. I coughed on the phone once, and she overnighted me soup; when I wanted to learn how to ski, she knit me a sweater; when I wanted to be a marine biologist, she knit me a sweater with a whale on it," he recounts. Can any fan of the series remain unaffected at this point? However, doesn't it still feel jarring that this subplot remains unresolved? Leaving a potential love interest for a scarcely seen character dangling is hardly the way to tie up a season. Perhaps Annie's fleeting glance at Frank at the episode's end suffices.
Has anyone ever savored the haunting melody of "Amazing Grace" played on the clarinet? Or witnessed the mesmerizing spectacle of fireworks at a solemn memorial service? Both are experiences that tug at the heartstrings, evoking a profound emotional response. Oh, the power of sentimentality! While I might have preferred a chaotic conclusion filled with the show's signature quirky antics, "ModFam" has strayed from its heartwarming charm for a spell, so this poignant finale suited well. It was a robust conclusion indeed.
Moreover, after a season devoid of any captivating, overarching narrative drivers (let's be real, the pregnancy and the invisible baby hardly qualified), we were granted a glimmer of hope: a promise that something significant might shift in the upcoming season. Specifically, Mitch is stepping away from his desk to reclaim his place in the courtroom. Bring on the biweekly courtroom dramas featuring Mitchell, please!
Last week, our loyal "ModFam" commentator KDMZ penned, "When the inevitable 'Entertainment Weekly' retrospective on the show is penned, this will undoubtedly be dubbed 'The Lost Season.' The show requires a revitalizing jolt, akin to a colonic irrigation — not through illness or another pregnancy, but through a creative spark to reinvigorate the writers." I can certainly empathize with this sentiment, and to an extent, I concur. While this season did introduce some fresh gems (such as the roller rink episode, the premiere, Haley's college expulsion saga, and "When a Tree Falls"), "Modern Family's" comic vitality — primarily originating from the writers' room, though occasionally from the actors' performances — failed to align with its increasingly robust presence in ratings and cultural discourse.
If I were to delve into the specifics and assign a numerical rating to the season as a whole, it would likely hover just below the midpoint, perhaps a 2.3 or 2.4. Far from dreadful, but "Modern Family," you possess the potential to soar. You can be a resounding 4. Ish.
