everyone, say hello to your new...marilyn!
the title of this episode is “hell on earth.” it’s like “smash” can read my BRAIN.
katharine mcphee opens the show with “well i just can’t sit around and wait for ‘marilyn’ to happen,” so she’s going back to the diner to pick up some shifts. way to take your head out of your ass. why don’t you go on an audition? and then she tries on sunglasses for her boyfriend, so obviously the sunglasses are going to be a major plot point later. this show. sometimes this show. why is this episode called “hell on earth”? it should be called “sunglasses sunglasses.”
debra messing’s husband just asked where the adoption papers are. i can’t believe they’re still trying to follow that fucking storyline. anyway, she yells “by the bed!” which you know is just setting up when he finds her diary or whatever it is that’s going to tip him off that she slept with that roger guy from “rent.” a blonde hair? a torn-sleeved flannel?
guess who’s a gay republican! the gay musical writer’s gay lawyer boyfriend! surprise!
there it was. husband found some sheet music under the adoption papers. then he looked at it like it was something important. omg, did she write a love song for that roger guy from “rent”? is it a bruno mars song? i’m so intrigued.
in other news, the blonde is addicted to: steroids, ambien, klonopin, and some other things. she whips out eight prescription bottles from her purse. and straight-acting self-hating gay chorus member is like “be careful.” what a great friend. i’m sure she’ll stay off the pipe now!
anjelica huston is now suddenly obsessed with the show not being called “marilyn: the musical!” what the fuck are they going to call it? “monroe! the musical! based on marilyn! the musical!” now that’s how you sell tickets.
everything is falling apart. even anjelica huston’s severe fringe is like “i’m sad.”
the blonde runs into an audition all late. she says she was “stuck in the subway,” but everyone knows she was snorting ambien while shooting up steroids. i see through your lies, blonde.
and look who else is at this audition: katharine mcphee. it’s like nobody else exists on broadway except for these two. they literally run into each other and BOTH drop their sunglasses. and the camera shows them picking up the sunglasses and obviously they picked up the wrong sunglasses. fuck this show, man.
katharine mcphee just got an “orange juice commercial.” the cliche just gave birth to cliche twins.
the show that the blonde was in before she turned into marilyn monroe is called “heaven on earth,” so now she’s in that, walking down the steps like “beauty school dropout” singing dumb lyrics and looking bored and cracked out. let me guess, she’s going to fall down the stairs? there’s no reason to have stairs unless she’s going to fall down them in a drug frenzy. and holy fucking shit is that norbert leo butz?? playing GOD?
i’m dying.
oh my god, is that james monroe iglehart, too?? it’s like “smash” is the mafia and all these great people “owe it a favor.” like, what other explanation is there for this?
ugh, whew. the blonde didn’t fall. i’d kill her if she fell and somehow hurt norbert leo butz.
oh there’s lurker with his guy who hacks computers, getting a client list or some shit. one of the thousand storylines this week is that they’re trying to find “a star” to fill the role of marilyn. big deal.
debra messing comes home to her husband playing the piano and you’re never going to fucking believe this. he’s singing the lyrics “tonight my thoughts were all of you, but no one else could know.” i mean, he found that song 12 hours ago. has he just been sitting at the piano for the last 12 hours?
in any case, SHE WROTE A SONG ABOUT HER AFFAIR AND LEFT IT BY THE SIDE OF THE BED. A SONG. AND THEN SHE LEFT IT.
i am DYING. DYING. I’M DEAD.
so then they have the requisite big confrontation. and the script is actually ok at this point. i guess “smash” knows how to do big emotional confrontations better than anything, which isn’t saying much.
she starts saying all the cliches (“it’s over”; “it didn’t mean anything”) and thank god her husband is like, ugh, i don’t even want to hear it. and he guesses that it’s that roger guy from “rent,” because he saw how they were acting at the workshop. DUH, debra messing. they were basically having sex on the sex couch right in front of her husband’s face!
there’s katharine mcphee being a bumbling fool at the orange juice commercial. they’re like “CGI” and “HIT YOUR MARK” and she’s like “do i turn this way? wait, let me” and aww, poor iowa. doesn’t understand the universe.
holy shit, the husband is meeting that roger guy from “rent” outside the theater! another confrontation! roger from “rent” is like “it was over a long time ago, it should never have started up again” and the husband didn’t know that they had been together BEFORE the sex couch happened. he thinks sex couch was the first time. and then he punches roger from “rent.” punch him again for me, husband! for singing “grenade” that one time!
lurker is meeting with someone’s agent to get the someone into marilyn. he’s lurking lurkily being a lurker. i mean, you should’ve seen his face when sleazebag asked him if he’s a producer now? he’s like, duh. i’m the producer’s assistant. that means i’m basically a producer. that’s how his brain works.
the blonde just said, about katharine mcphee, “she just walks into this city with that midwestern moon face.” i’m dying. “midwestern moon face!” then she snapped at one of her friends, and then storms out. go take a klonopin, blonde! go take an ambien!
katharine mcphee just realized she has the wrong sunglasses. kill me. and now the blonde realized it, too. threw them in the garbage. and ran to her drugs. AND THEN LOOKED AT HERSELF IN THE MIRROR. god this show loves looking at itself in the mirror.
this big explosion happened between sleazebag and anjelica huston, and it all boiled down to him agreeing to stay with the production.
cut to the blonde in her dressing room fumbling around for her drugs while looking in the mirror that has a picture of marilyn monroe stuck to it. jesus christ, “smash.” i GET it. she’s turning into marilyn! i get it!
UGH. lurky is not only a lurker, but he is now seducing the agent of the “star” he wants to prove himself with. so he’s a bisexual lurky lurker. please.
the stage manager just ran to the dressing room to get the blonde because she’s in the next scene! omg! and she’s on the floor. did she just snort the steroids? what is happening? where is norbert leo butz?? is she going to fall on him? i hate this.
so the blonde finally gets her shit together for a minute and laughs her way onto the stage and starts wobbling down the stairs, about to fall. she can’t stop giggling and oh god. there’s norbert. save yourself, norbert!
so katharine mcphee decided that right now was the PERFECT FUCKING TIME to return the blonde’s sunglasses. so she goes to the theater, and is of course about to witness the blonde fucking up her entire life. she sees someone on the side of the stage and he’s like “oh, just give the sunglasses to the assistant stage manager.” um, hello? this is in the middle of a show. doesn’t the ASM have better things to do? like, cut the spotlight on the drugged out blonde who’s about to fall over? also, do they just let random people go backstage during a show? this is fucking ridiculous.
so katharine mcphee is standing on the side of the stage, and is like, squinting her eyes looking at the blonde, being concerned, because she obviously knows something is up. because hi, EVERYONE knows now that something is up. the blonde is going crazy. don’t pretend like you know just because you KNOW her, katharine mcphee.
and down the blonde goes. only it wasn’t down the stairs. my bad. and norbert leo butz just yelled at her to get off the freakin stage! you tell her, norbert!
and now i can’t type for a minute because there is a commercial for 3D “titanic.” i won’t even tell you how many times i saw that in theaters the first time. GOD i love that movie.
and we’re back. there’s the blonde running down 42nd street or whatever wearing her costume. is this real life? and katharine mcphee is chasing after her being like “are you ok??” and now they’re having a big to-do in the middle of the street, and the blonde is dressed like an angel. and she just keeps yelling at katharine mcphee about being weak and lame and not wanting it enough, and mcphee is like, “whatever, you got to be marilyn. stop bitching. and the only reason i didn’t is because i didn’t sleep with sleazebag, but it wasn’t because he didn’t ask. you weren’t the first choice.”
she said it just like that. like she was a robot, reading it off my computer screen. like, i get more emotional choosing salad dressing than she did doing that line reading.
oh p.s., debra messing’s husband is leaving.
the gay musical writer is being called away to go find the blonde, and his gay republican boyfriend is like, why do you have to go? um, she’s his friend? why doesn’t he know that.
the blonde is STILL in her costume! she’s at the liquor store!! she wants to borrow money from katharine mcphee to buy vodka! and mcphee gives it to her. hahaha.
oh lord, now the blonde and mcphee are both drunk, walking down the street, best buddies, drinking vodka out of a paper bag. saying the stupid line from the orange juice commercial.
and then they run into a street performer and they’re still drunk and katharine mcphee’s autotuned voice starts singing about how “life’s too short to something something” and it’s that “cheers” song by rihanna.
it’s times like these when i wish lurky were here. like lurking over them in one of the times square ads. like he’s in that big coke bottle ad. where are you, lurky?
the street performer is just like, smiling and playing piano and is like “are you going to give me a sip of that vodka or what?” and it’s so stupid. are they going to sing the entire song?
yes. yes they are. the answer is yes.
so they just shut down times square singing that stupid song all drunk and stupid. the blonde is STILL in her angel costume.
cut to commercial.
and then cut to them doing that cliche thing that tv shows do. where they walk into the apartment later, STILL singing that song. all drunk and mumbly. does that ever actually happen? do you ever sing a song earlier in the evening because you’re drunk, and then are STILL singing it later when you get home, even more drunk? what?
then this conversation happened:
gay writer: i haven’t been up all night since i camped out for “rent” tickets in 1996.
self-hating chorus guy: i haven’t been up all night since the bruins won the stanley cup!
remember? that guy loves sports? well, you remember now.
anjelica huston’s bangs just told lurky that he can’t be co-producer because more goes into it than just casting. god, finally someone told lurky off.
debra messing just met with that roger guy from “rent” and she’s like thanks for meeting me, and then literally said nothing. she said that their affair blew up her life, like a bombshell. who fucking says bombshell? he’s like “i’m sorry” and she’s like “don’t apologize. it was my fault, too.” and then she walks away. what the fuck. what was the point of saying that? he was only apologizing to be polite.
oh look. what’s the new name of “marilyn: the musical!”? it’s now called “bombshell.”
she should call the blonde and ask for some ambien, so she can sleep tonight.
OMG UMA THURMAN. that’s the star they got. UMA. run away, uma thurman. you don’t even want to start getting involved with this bullshit. it’s already too late for norbert leo butz. you still have time.
[read my thoughts on episode 1, episode 2, episode 3, episode 4, episode 5, episode 6, episode 7, and episode 8.]
textual relations 