A yard sale at the Pritchett-Delgado headquarters—what an ingenious way to rekindle the comedy team dynamic of the eclectic Modern Family ensemble, who have been missing in action lately when it comes to comic synergy. The entire quirky brood was present, minus Lily (where could she be? With a babysitter, perhaps? Yard sales are perfectly child-appropriate endeavors! Jay could certainly benefit from interacting with tiny females before welcoming another into his fold!) and Haley (recalling whether her moniker is spelled Haley or Hayley has ascended to the ranks of my personal Mount Everest; thus, her near-absence, albeit peculiar, is somewhat of a relief in this context).
Though we're spared a montage depicting the inevitably quirky items the families are offloading, we are privy to one humorous illustration: Haley's supposedly "signed" John Mayer pin-up. Claire's devastating revelation that "even John Mayer doesn't possess a John Mayer poster anymore" barely registers with Haley over Skype, overshadowed by the haunting revelation that her dad, with his unintended crassness, once deemed her body a veritable wonderland. Sharpie ink lasts a lifetime.
Alex finally enjoys some much-needed screen time, sassily informing Phil that his Street Strider monstrosity borders on nerdiness, coming from someone "fluent in Elvish, no less." Luke joins in on the fun, responding to Phil's plea for support with, "Back me up, Luke." To which Luke retorts, "I hope you mean into the garage, because I have friends on this street." It's a tough night for Street Strider, the Actual Product. Or perhaps not, considering their website beams with excitement about their prime-time debut, regardless of being the butt of the joke. After all, all press is good press, even if Sofia Vergara finds the contraption reminiscent of something mandated by a physician.
Cameron continues to parade his weight loss, albeit scaled down to 25 pounds from last week's touted 32.4 pounds. Now, this isn't Lost, but if you're going to highlight a numerical fluctuation in consecutive episodes, consistency is key. There are meticulous viewers out there (yours truly included) whose sentiments may be bruised by such discrepancies. And let's not even entertain the notion of a dietary relapse, for Cam would be utterly devastated if he regained 7.4 pounds. You know this, Modern Family! Nonetheless, Cam and Mitch's fat-pants saga emerges as a subtly nuanced exploration of couples' missteps in their endeavors to shield one another from disappointment.
Jay's clandestine disdain for yard sale enthusiasts is as enchanting as the universal thrill that precedes a puppet show. (And how commendable it is that Jay has now acquired a familiarity with the term "asshat"! Bravo, Jay! Keeping pace with the youthful lingo!) In her youth, Gloria, an 18-year-old at the time, opted for ventriloquism as an alternative to the Colombian beauty pageant's usual knife-juggling act. This sequence triggered my Arrested Development instincts — the sweeping archival snapshot of Gloria in her pageant days; Alex’s boyfriend, coincidentally, striking a "dramatic reveal" pose on the yard sale's electric organ at the most opportune moment (not a direct excerpt from Arrested, yet exuding a familiar aura); and Gloria's sharp retort, "You're wrong, whoever you are!" directed at said boyfriend. She might just as well have addressed him by the nickname Egg.
Perhaps my mind had already wandered down that path, as Phil's penchant for inappropriate remarks ("I've had bigger hogs than this between my legs!") reminded me of Tobias Fünke for the very first time, potentially due to the parallelism between Jay's critique, "He really oughta run things through his head first," and Michael Bluth's iconic line, "There’s so many poorly chosen words in that sentence." (Upon reflection, the notion of Phil inscribing risqué John Mayer lyrics on his daughter’s poster bears a spiritual resemblance to a certain uncle and his niece belting out “Afternoon Delight” together, doesn't it?)
Claire is "90 percent sure" that Alex’s boyfriend, Michael, is "100 percent gay," despite their lip-locking session and Alex's tactile exploration of his sculpted chest post-prom. After a lackluster attempt at humor involving Michael's voice and a feeble "playing for the pink team" joke, the Michael debate devolves into one of the episode's many victorious, rapid-fire exchanges. Alex remarks, "I know what you think about Michael, mom — you didn’t have to bring in your big gay guns to back you up. No offense." Mitch responds, "None taken." Cam, without missing a beat: "I kinda like it."
Phil's pant leg gets ensnared beneath a motorcycle, prompting him to enact his very own 127 Hours drama (complete with a cheesy "27 minutes" line, but also offering a fascinating glimpse into the workings of Phil's wildly imaginative mind: “Claire, kids: If you're watching this and they found my body, or I finally got a signal and sent this to you via email…”). Ultimately, Phil’s mishap serves as a means to sideline one of the show’s beloved characters, affording the others more screen time; the majority of the Franconian subplot concludes as the credits roll.
Luke exudes an aura of mischief and pseudo-sophistication, peppering his conversations with charmingly juvenile remarks such as "mastering the business-savvy of a strategic wedgie" and "I've honed the art of pressing buttons to attain my desires... and my foremost desire is to behold a puppet show." As Phil has bravery confronted his motorcycle phobia, Jay has valiantly overcome his dread of yard sales (culminating in an absurd incident where a dim-witted individual pondered whether Stella, the family dog, was a pot-bellied pig up for grabs), and Alex has triumphantly vanquished her fear of her boyfriend being homosexual, Gloria wields a secret puppet from Colombia, orchestrating the show's heartwarming climax in the form of a captivating puppet show this week. The kiss that seals their endearing bond is nothing short of indistinguishable – Gloria's puppet mirrors her cranky, balding spouse to a tee, right down to the meticulous replication of his attire.
