With "Interlude IV" on the horizon, marking the show's mid-season pivot (or, in this particular instance, slightly beyond the halfway mark), tonight's episode of "The Righteous Gemstones" bears the weight of preparing the groundwork for the final leg of its narrative journey. This might explain why it lacks the usual spark, though it still manages to squeeze in ample moments of levity on the sidelines. The plot's gears must churn with a bit more effort to pave the way for impending confrontations—from Vance Simkins' all-out war against the Gemstones, to Lori Milsap's tumultuous romantic past, to the potential implosion of the ministry itself, now threatened by the children's successful initiative clashing with the Bible's "outdated" teachings. While the strain of this foundational work isn't overly oppressive, there's undeniably less room for playful antics, at least in scenes unrelated to Baby Billy's quest to turn a smoldering teenage Jesus (or "Teenjus") into his next television sensation.
Troubles commence with Kelvin, whose innovative inclusion of a queer-friendly slant in his youth-pastor routine has finally incited an unavoidable backlash. Kelvin seemed aware of the boundaries he could push with Prism, recalling his Siegfried & Roy analogy when Keefe urged him to be more overt about their relationship. Yet, it seemed odd that Prism could flourish in a conservative Evangelical setting. Kelvin's overweening pride regarding his nomination for Top Christ Following Man was bound to be met with a fateful rebuke, as even his closest allies roll their eyes at the self-congratulatory luncheon he throws. Though Vance Simkins and Jesse disagree on many fronts, they seem to concur that Kelvin's nomination is a mere token gesture from a group striving to appear more inclusive than "straight white males." As it turns out, the church isn't as progressive as it may seem.
After his latest mini-mall ministry was almost certainly torched by the Gemstones, Simkins is poised for revenge against Kelvin, who's so engulfed in his own ego that he views the live TV discussion panel for Top Christ Following Man merely as an opportunity for brand expansion. ("It's gonna be a prime chance to dish out some fire quotes and cement myself as the clear favorite," he tells Keefe.) However, he gets precious few fiery quotes out when Simkins ambushes him over his selective Bible interpretation. In the past, the Gemstones have demonstrated a solid grasp of biblical verses, but Kelvin is left speechless in the face of Simkins' attacks. Oddly enough, this silence speaks volumes about his family's acceptance of his sexuality. Despite Jesse's barbs about his token nomination, this TV panel appears to be the first time Kelvin encounters genuine intolerance, leaving him looking almost painfully stunned.
Kelvin isn't the solitary soul bearing the brunt of condemnation for his sexual orientation this week. Upon witnessing Eli and Lori indulging in a 69 at Galilee Gulch, the Gemstone offspring have resumed their denunciation of their relationship, perhaps mostly due to the indelible image it etched in their minds. ("The auditory visuals of their lips locking and bodies entwined are etched into our memories, a mental scar that refuses to fade," laments Jesse.) The sense of urgency to intervene escalates when Lori hints that she might soon become their "wicked stepmother," should they persist in rejecting her. This prompts Jesse's crack reconnaissance squad to scour Instagram for incriminating photos, which ultimately uncovers a starting revelation: many of Lori's former lovers, including the infamous "Big Dick" Mitch, are either missing or deceased. When Baby Billy later reveals that Lori's financial woes compelled her to beg for a spot on the Aimee-Leigh telethon, they inevitably conclude that they have a modern-day black widow lurking among them.
In a humorous twist, a despondent BJ receives an unexpected boost from a service monkey named Dr. Watson, delivered by Amber in the hope that it might alleviate Judy's burden and elevate BJ's spirits. Despite Judy's best efforts to lift BJ from his despair by citing examples of disabled men who lived extraordinary lives, such as "the president with cold legs who delivers fireside chats," she falls short. Although Dr. Watson cannot differentiate between black-cherry White Claw and Citrus Yuzu Smash, he possesses enough cunning to come close, and perhaps even cunning enough to orchestrate a rebellion akin to that in "Planet of the Apes." The glint in his eye as he gazes at Judy from afar towards the episode's conclusion hints at the bare minimum of monkey shenanigans, if not the nascent stirrings of an ape uprising.
However, it is Walton Goggins who steals the episode as Baby Billy, whose freelance (and unbridled) escapades have served as a delightful wildcard throughout the season. Still riding the wave of success from "Baby Billy's Bible Bonkers," he wraps up the pilot script for "Teen Jesus," which he aptly shortens to "Teenjus" after an invigorating snort of cocaine. It's worth pausing to savor the scene on his computer screen ("He's gone. He's risen. The girls are all, 'Whoa, for real?'"). Yet, his vision truly comes alive only when he steps onto the set to direct a pale, brooding, Z-grade Edward Cullen type to embody a youthful interpretation of the son of God. (The dialogue sounds like a fusion of "Footloose" and Nazareth: "If I win the village dance contest, there's no way they won't accept me. Through my moves and swagger, I'll prove to them that I am the Chosen One.")
It seems plausible that Baby Billy senses the impending demise of the Gemstone empire, making it his mission to squeeze as much money as possible from the kids before the ministry crumbles. All it takes to secure the green light for "Teenjus" is a morsel of dirt on Lori, and surely, there's more where that came from. For the time being, he stands to profit regardless of the outcome. His sole concern is keeping the donkey (the film's focal point) in sharp relief.
