I'm incessantly intrigued by the dynamics of what couples choose to delve into and what they meticulously avoid. It's an undeniable fact that one can never fully comprehend another person's inner workings, and no amount of probing can alter this truth. However, one would think that by the time two souls tie the knot, they would ensure to address some pivotal fundamentals. Take Joe and Love, for example; Joe remains blissfully unaware of how Love managed Delilah and Candace's corpses. Isn't this precisely the kind of topic they should have dissected beforehand? And doesn't the notion that "ignorance is bliss" diminish once they're legally bound and cannot testify against each other?
Here's another layer to peel: If Love has already single-handedly navigated the disposal of two deceased bodies in quick succession, why does she find herself floundering with just one measly corpse now? Could it be that she didn't handle them all alone? Perhaps Glamma Dottie, the mastermind behind the clever disguise of a suicide by throat-slitting for the sexually abusive au pair, lent her a helping hand? This theory would explain Love's tolerance of Dottie's constant presence in her life despite her apparent disdain—after all, Love is affluent and doesn't require free babysitting. It could also clarify why she hasn't confessed this to Joe, who would undoubtedly be less than thrilled.
Joe and Love find themselves in the throws of couples therapy, their session emanating a vibe akin to the premiere episode of "The Sopranos," complete with the juxtaposition between their euphemistic recounts of their issues (Love "broke a vase" due to "occasional passions") and the stark reality (an axe murder). Joe brings Henry to the murder scene, and though I'm loath to side with Joe, what alternative did he have? Could he have summoned a last-minute babysitter and justified an solo outing at such an hour?
Love's relentless quest for the moral high ground amidst this chaotic mess she's woven is nothing short of hilarious. Every time Joe attempts to confront her, she counters with "don't wake the baby!" She spins her ineptitude at evading murder charges into a virtue, claiming it proves she didn't "plan it like a psychopath." Really? If you're going to embark on a murdering spree, isn't it wiser to have a meticulous plan? For those keeping tabs, this isn't her maiden voyage; it's her fourth (guilty pleasure fact-checker here). Penn Badgley's delivery of "YOU SIGNED A LEASE FOR OUR CRIME SCENE" is nothing short of exceptional.
Perhaps contradicting my earlier assertion that premeditation is the preferred route in matters of homicide, it's unsettling—yet fascinating—how adeptly Joe navigates this particular high-pressure situation and the remarkable speed at which he conjures a solution to this perplexing dilemma: Transport Natalie's body to a state forest a half-hour away, conceal her in the secluded woods (it's all rather reminiscent of a "Pine Barrens" scenario... is this entire episode subtly peppered with Sopranos references just for my amusement?), and orchestrate a misleading trail by utilizing her phone and strategically timed texts. I find myself amused by the mutual disgust Joe and Love harbor towards each other, given their deplorable nature. Joe convinces himself that each homicide he commits is part of a chivalrous quest for true love—rendering him not a "real" murderer, unlike Love, whom he labels a psychopath. Conversely, Love contends that only a psychopath could so methodically eliminate numerous individuals (and that's merely counting those she's aware of!), whereas she, a law-abiding non-murderer, occasionally succumbs to impulsiveness driven by her protective instincts.
"This isn't me, though," Joe murmurs to himself as he inters yet another woman in the forest depths. He resolves to abscond with Henry once he's cleaned up Love's mess. I can't help but wonder if Joe realizes this plan might empower Love to accuse him of kidnapping and battle for full custody in court. If you're going to embark on this law-breaking spree, shouldn't you at least glance at the legal code? Perhaps a cursory review? The highlight of this segment is Joe discovering, via Natalie's phone, that she once referred to him as "the boring neighbor" in a casual text deliberating potential intimacy.
Meanwhile, while Joe attends to Natalie, Love entrusts Henry to Glamma, who justifiably fears Love is experiencing another of her "episodes." Love seemingly signed the lease under the assumption her mother would lend a hand—without prior consultation? Ahem, "Quinn family finances are in flux right now"! (Moreover, wasn't there supposed to be a more rigorous screening process before Love could ink a three-year lease?!) Love then ventures to the grocery store, where she's hit on in the parking lot by Theo, an unsettlingly charming teenager who happens to be Natalie's husband's stepson from his first marriage—a fact Love is unaware of, as of yet.
In therapy, Love confesses her struggles with new parenthood, blaming Joe's emotional detachment. The therapist advises Love to refrain from using "we," as "'we' is codependence masquerading as love," which, lol, just wait until you learn about Forty. Love resents being labeled impulsive and feeling misunderstood by everyone. Joe admits he stays in this marriage solely for his son, whom he actually dislikes because he yearned for a daughter. I jot down in my notes: Couples therapy is madness; imagine if the person you're trash-talking in therapy could interrupt and recount their version of events? I'd be in stitches. As homework, the therapist assigns them a "reflective listening exercise."
Joe ventures into the library with the intention of stealing a rare tome and orchestrating a scenario where he lands a job caring for these ancient volumes. Truthfully, the mundane reality of library life is excruciatingly dull—Marienne, an illustrator at heart, harbors grand aspirations amidst this mundane existence, whereas Tati Gabrielle, with her cool demeanor, piques my interest, and I sincerely hope her role becomes more intriguing as the season progresses.
It's time for Andrew and Jackson's child's birthday bash. (Joe's sentiment echoes mine perfectly: "The only thing worse than a party is a rich kid's party.") Ironically, even these supposedly ultra-progressive Bay Area parents adhere to gender stereotypes at such gatherings, with the wives clustering around food preparations while the men engage in risqué conversations and light construction work. The cupcakes, though beautifully baked, remain untouched, only to be pilfered by Sherry's kids, prompting her to fly into a tizzy about their sugar levels ("They're forbidden from consuming fruit!"). Joe discovers that Matthew has crafted these "vitals" rings capable of transmitting real-time data on blood sugar and other vital signs, worn by everyone, including Natalie when her vitals ominously ceased.
Thus begins Love and Joe's grim mission to exhume the body—might I mention that this episode's unforgiving length of 51 minutes does little to enhance the experience? Their journey is fraught with bickering, rendering their squabbles almost as excruciating to witness as their zombie-like parenting duties. The toothless corpse of Natalie sends shivers down Love's spine, hinting that she refrained from extracting Candace's or Delilah's teeth... likely a non-issue! Joe resorts to breaking Natalie's finger to pry off the ring. Such grotesque details might deter a weaker recapper, but having chronicled similar grotesqueries, like the suitcase scene in 'The Americans,' I embrace the body horror with open arms.
On their return journey, they halt at a site on the town's fringes where cement is being poured. Joe suggests they conceal Natalie's body within the foundation, ensuring perpetual obscurity. Love, slightly perturbed by Joe's readiness with disposal ideas, vents her frustrations, shrilly wondering why Joe no longer adores her, highlighting that Joe would have terminated her had she not been pregnant. Both are consumed by a paralyzing fear—that the other might slay them for failing to maintain an unwavering, all-consuming obsession.
Fortunately, we're venturing back into therapy! Our therapist asserts that the intensity of their emotions is actually a positive indicator, interpreting Joe's declarations of "being crazy" and "I want to kill you" as mere metaphors. She persuades Joe to recognize that beneath his aggression lurks a profound fear of abandonment should anyone glimpse his true self. How absurd, I muse, since his violence is indeed the authentic Joe, and precisely the reason why people steer clear of him, fearing for their lives.
Next, an intriguing twist unfolds that leaves me unpersuaded: Love experiences a similar revelation, confessing her own dread of being seen, believing that those who draw near will eventually desert her. Really? I question. Has anything we've gleaned about her thus far supported this notion? Her life was inextricably linked with Forty's, her mother remains deeply entangled in her affairs, and she has never known solitude from those who cherish her. Additionally, I harbor doubts about the natural causes of her husband's demise.
The therapist, thrilled by their newfound awareness of their shared fear of solitude, introduces a groundbreaking concept: Joe and Love are a duo battling for a common goal. Is that goal a staggering tally of homicides? Undoubtedly, but it's sufficient to reignite Joe's love for Love, now portraying her as "radiantly maternal" and eager for "primal" intimacy. Their parenting scenes are bathed in a warm glow, akin to the reassuring embrace of a Valencia filter. They profess, "I would absolutely kill for you," to each other, prompting me to scribble in my notes: THIS IS NOT THE ISSUE! We've known this about both of you all along!
They vow to refrain from compelling the other into committing more murders, but given the season's early stages, I suspect their promise will be as fragile as Natalie's broken finger. Love embarks on opening her bakery, while Joe secures a job at the library. Meanwhile, the police arrive at Matt and Natalie's residence. Seeking a "safe haven," Joe and Love construct their human aquarium in the bakery's basement, each concealing a key without the other's knowledge. I wonder how they expect this arrangement to prevent them from ending up with captives whom they might ultimately be compelled to eliminate. I eagerly anticipate their next therapy session, curious to see how they'll justify this latest escapade.
