If, as Rachel asserted, hairography is all about distraction, this week’s installment of Glee was… pretty hairy. There was Quinn, distracting Finn with Rachel so she could give Puck a tryout as the baby daddy. There was Kurt, distracting Rachel from the right path to Finn by giving her an ill-advised makeover (which also distracted him from his own doomed feelings for our favorite manchild). There was Terri, distracting Will with a car so he wouldn’t catch on to her pregnancy fake-out. And there was Sue, distracting Will with a mixture of curious requests, war games, hard-edged advice, and even a compliment. So let’s call ”Hairography” a big distraction — we’ve been waiting so long for Sectionals, we’re wigging out! — because we chewed up a lot of story but didn’t gain a lot of ground. But at least it had some entertaining moments, including a look at New Directions’ competition for Sectionals. Want a breakdown of all the action from last night? We’ll tell you about it, stud.
I see your Sue colors shining through
The episode opened in a familiar place: Suspicionville. Population: Will. After Splits Magazine‘s Cheerleading Coach of the Decade pressed Mr. S. for Glee Club’s set list for Sectionals and info about the schools they’d be competing against (Jane Addams Academy and the Haverbrook School for the Deaf), Will theorized to Emma that Sue was sabotaging New Directions by leaking set lists and videos. Emma advised him not to let Sue serve as distraction, and, using a convoluted Mohammed and the mountain metaphor, instructed him to go find out the truth at Addams. And so he passed through tight security, got pickpocketed, and met the confident Ms. Hitchins, a.k.a. Eve, who bristled at Will’s set-list-swiping allegations (”You think that because our students are thieves and arsonists that we’re cheaters too?”). Next, she guilted him about their lack of resources, insisted she wouldn’t risk the girls’ one positive outlet by cheating, called his kids ”privileged misfits,” and taunted, ”Especially from what I hear, we’re probably going to take you anyway.” I was hoping for some Bring It On bravado from Will here, but he said he didn’t mean to offend her and politely invited her to a scrimmage at his auditorium.
The scrimmage was far from polite: The Addams girls flung their hair fiercely and shook their bodies while cranking up ”Bootylicious.” (The scrimmage was also far from a scrimmage, as New Directions didn’t perform.) Even after Rachel assured Will that the Addams family was all about all smoke and mirrors, hairography, mane whizzing to distract from mediocre dancing and vocals, Mr. S. remained rattled. He announced at the next rehearsal that Glee Club would perform the title song from Hair (”Did they have mohawks back then, like in the ’20s or whatever?” cracked Puck) and he gave everyone a wig and allowed Brittany to lead a seminar on hair-tossing (think: ”cool epilepsy”). When Will caught Sue spying on the proceedings, he accused her of stealing Glee secrets and trying to torpedo the Club. She called that an ”outrageous affront” to her ”sterling reputation,” and chastised him for choosing distraction over the talents of his kids. (Say what you will about Sue, but she’s an effective leader; she knows what she wants, whereas Will is still searching for what he wants.) She also demanded his set list by 5 p.m. tomorrow and vowed to cut any song that involved ”deameaning, fruity hair-tossing.” Will refused to comply, so she reinstated herself as co-director.
Another person in Will’s grill: Mr. Rumba (a.k.a. Christopher Guest fave Michael Hitchock), the super oblivious deaf-in-one-ear-thanks-to-Scarlet-Fever show choir director from Haverbrook, who, like Ms. Hitchins, cried poor and wanted a McKinley visit too: ”I run the Glee Club at a school for the deaf. You think I’m rolling around in deaf choir money?” Will agreed to another scrimmage, during which New Directions took the stage first for a Mercedes-and-Artie-led ”Hair”/”Crazy in Love” mashup that included a sandstorm of hair and some out-of-character girl-on-guy straddling. (Two deaf students signing to each other: ”They look absolutely crazy.” ”Totally.”)
NEXT: Terri’s back, now with more schemes