This evening's episode of "The Righteous Gemstones" marked a literal milestone in the portrayal of male representation within the arts. Where else have we witnessed such a spectacle before? In television history, the fierce confrontation between BJ and Stephen seems almost unprecedented. In cinema, beyond the controversial, unsimulated sex scenes that frequently shock audiences at film festivals — a nod to titles like "Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn" — there are merely a scattered few comparable instances. Notably, there's the nude brawl in the bathhouse scene from David Cronenberg's "Eastern Promises," where Viggo Mortensen fiercely dispatches two adversaries while at his most vulnerable. Another pertinent example is the scene in "Sideways," where Paul Giamatti intrudes on a couple during intercourse, only to flee with a burly, nude man in hot pursuit. Yet, these scenes barely hint at the grandeur of the unmasked maleness displayed in this episode, setting the stage for boundless possibilities. A new frontier has been established, and it's apt that Danny McBride's show should be the pioneer, given his characteristic crude vulgarity that has propelled him and his colleagues through series such as "Eastbound & Down," "Vice Principals," and now this. Fundamentally, the fight plays on a timeless comic trope: male nudity is hilarious. Hence, an abundance of male nudity is doubly amusing, from the initial startle of an erection unexpectedly sliding into frame to the audacious sight of a bloody brawl spilling into the open. In a battle about two men reclaiming their dignity, shame has no place.
The theme of naive, destructive masculinity has been a recurring theme throughout McBride's career, starting with the martial arts comedy of his 2006 film "The Foot Fist Way." Now, it haunts BJ, a character whose masculinity is perpetually questioned. Judy's bizarre, sexless entanglement with her tour guitarist — an "affair without sex," as she describes it to her father — has shattered her marital bond with BJ, but for him, it's more than betrayal. He's been cuckolded. Moreover, his acquaintances, like Jesse and his cronies, are not surprised by his plight, and he's acutely aware of their indifference. Even when Jesse takes him to a secluded part of the ministry to regain his manhood, BJ is insulted about his "limp" wrist and told to "Get lost, Queen." It's not sufficient for him to be hurt by his wife's partial infidelity. He must respond with a force that's entirely foreign to his nature.
The sudden, vicious punch he lands square on Stephen's face evokes the memorable scene from "Dazed and Confused," where Adam Goldberg, the quintessential underdog nerd, finds the courage to stand his ground and land a blow on a menacing brute (Nicky Katt) at a rowdy keg party, convinced that the brawl would be diffused before his adversary could strike back. (Unfortunately for him, his assumption proves disastrously wrong.) Yet, Stephen too has endured his share of humiliation and emasculation, now exacerbated by the betrayal of Judy's husband answering his sexual advances. He is poised for revenge. The spectacle of their fight spilling into the front yard, under the watchful eyes of elderly neighbors and two little girls across the street, is comically surreal, especially when BJ seizes (and tightly grips) the reins of the outcome. Yet, Stephen's shame in acting against his true self and values undermines his supposed victory.
Judy, on her part, is consumed by profound remorse, though the reconciliation journey is stretching her patience thin. After BJ declines her offer to brew coffee ("Those Colombian beans send me into a panic, but I'll make them if that's your poison"), she reaches her breaking point. She's endured his jokes and watched food documentaries with him. What more could he possibly desire? To compound her woes, she's also grappling with a frivolous lawsuit from Stephen's wife, who sees an opportunity to exploit the Gemstones' vulnerability; they can't afford more scandals but can certainly cough up $500,000 for her silence. Judy's fury over this extortion knows no bounds — even Jesse, of all people, calls her out for her lack of restraint — but she must, in Kelvin's words, "Kiss that smelly behind."
The remainder of the episode gently nudges various plot threads forward, setting the stage for more explosive drama to unfold. The Gemstones bid a royal farewell to Chuck and Karl, the cousins they're proud to have rehabilitated, oblivious to the fact that the boys have smuggled a cache of bomb-making materials out of the compound. The hilarious dialogue mirrors an episode of "Extreme Makeover," where everyone narrates their incredible, life-altering transformations. "You guys did such an amazing job straightening us out that we're ready to face life, all by ourselves," Karl announces. "I think it all started when we dressed them up and gave them haircuts," Kelvin boasts proudly. Meanwhile, Jesse tosses them the keys to his monster truck as a parting gift, and they roar off to Daddy's militia camp, boasting about stealing it. The rift between the Gemstones and the Montgomeries is not so easily mended.
Meanwhile, Kelvin finds himself yearning for Keefe's presence, even as a new assistant youth pastor has taken the helm, one whom the youth find neither odd nor unsettling. When Kelvin ventures to visit Keefe at his carpentry workshop, he struggles to articulate his melancholy, but their conversation stumbles over unspoken sentiments, devolving into an acrid exchange. In a moment of petulance, Kelvin even mocks the notion of Jesus as a carpenter, saying, "It's the miracles and grand deeds that stand out, not the woodworking." (Adam DeVine's portrayal, when Kelvin is in such a mood, eerily echoes that of George W. Bush.) Keefe's gesture of reconciliation—a handmade rocking chair—falls on deaf ears, hinting at a impending relapse into his former atheistic ways.
As for Eli Gemstone, he finds himself in a situation akin to Al Pacino's plight in 'The Godfather Part III': just when he thought he was out, his inept progeny pull him back in. Judy harbors resentment towards him for disregarding her pleas for assistance in escaping the Stephen quandary. Jesse and Baby Billy, in a desperate bid to rejuvenate the church's fortunes, present a demonstration of the colossal, holographic Aimee-Leigh, which only serves to crush Eli's spirit further. Jesse had wagered, with a confidence bordering on delusion, that his father would appreciate their gesture—a wager so sure that he agreed to produce Baby Billy's appalling game show. Yet, in the lead-up to the presentation, he confesses to Amber, "I'm sitting here, racking my brain on how to exploit my late mother's memory just to regain people's favor." But even for a avaricious and tacky megachurch founder like Eli Gemstone, there are limits to what one can endure.
