‘Weeds’ recap: Growing…’up’?
First, an apology for last week’s recap. I may have rushed the end a bit, leaving off a detail or two, but I have a totally valid excuse: The cops were at my house! You see, I like to write the Weeds watch outside on my patio and usually late at night — it’s L.A., where it rarely gets too cold. Well, last week, as my preview DVD was winding down to its last minutes, I heard an odd rustling noise coming from the other side of my fence, so I called LAPD and had them check it out. Sure enough, there was a homeless guy basically living back there. In the excitement and drama that ensued, I know I neglected to mention a couple of things, so I’ll make every effort to correct myself. Sorry, dudes.
In retrospect, it was actually quite fitting, since last week’s episode — involving bombings, rough sex, and border dashes — was so fast-paced and action-packed. The same can’t be said for episode 9, titled ”Little Boats,” but I kind of liked it that way. A slower narrative, more about looking inward than watching your back, was a welcome respite. And it’s nice to see Nancy remove the facade every once in a while. When she’s being real, the mom cap suits her, as we saw more than once on Monday night.
Helping to bring out Nancy’s softer side was her new boyfriend, Esteban. Sure, he was canceling on her for their third time, but like a schoolgirl with a crush on the quarterback, Nancy was trying her best to be cool with it. ”Duty calls,” Esteban explained. ”What are you, Batman?” Nancy cracked. With a promise to make it up to her, and some soft-core, over-the-phone sex chatter, during which Esteban revealed that his milky-white woman, indeed, tastes like white chocolate, it was on…big time. ”Tomorrow night, you’ll eat lobster, and I will eat you, ” was Esteban’s sign-off.
Silas immediately took notice of his usually absent mom being stuck indoors for another night. ”Smells like you have a date,” he said, while carrying a tray of plant clones. It was time to explain his grow-room plan. ”Something kind of fell into my lap,” he told Nancy, who quickly deduced that the ”something” was also responsible for his frequent sleep-aways. Enter Doug, who’s getting the least action of all of them. ”I’m simpatico,” he told Nancy. ”I know why the caged bird sings, Nance. It hurts! The bird hurts. I’ll give you back later with Cheetos and mothballs if you wanna get high and listen to my cry tape.”
The next day found Celia still hard up for money and desperate for coke, so she resorted to swindling the maternity store by discouraging customers from using credit cards, then accepting whatever cash they had on hand and pocketing it. Anything to get that fix.
NEXT: Boys will be men
Meanwhile, back at home, Andy heard a familiar thumping pattern emanating from the other side of the bathroom wall. The guilty party? Shane, sheepishly carrying the ever-popular Sammy Davis Jr. autobiography upon his exit. Andy took notice, ever so slyly, by watching from the mirror. Full inspection came but a minute later. ”Oh, buddy. Oh, no” was all Andy could muster upon discovering the now dog-eared nude photo of Nancy. Someone needed a man-to-man talk desperately.
Also maturing faster than his years, Silas filled Lisa in on the intricacies of growing in a small space, then initiated another kitchen make-out session. ”The Mr. Botany thing? It’s hot,” she teased, clearly unconcerned with how the relationship was evolving. That was, until the two of them stumbled to the front register and found Nancy waiting. ”I wanna make sure you’re not doing anything stupid,” Nancy told her son, but didn’t get the response she was looking for. ”Like trafficking with the Mexican mafia?” Silas retaliated. Nancy proceeded to offer some sound advice on how to cover up the operation — fake wall, better ventilation — but Silas was having none of it. ”You don’t know what you’re doing,” Nancy insisted, her tone getting more stern, as Lisa stepped in promising to not ”let anything happen to him.” ”Because you know what you’re doing?” Nancy snapped. ”Because you’re a mom, and you worry about amber alerts and the Internet and the Catholic church? You’re f—-ng my 17-year-old son!” Her final, winning thrust was a lecherous insinuation: ”Rad’s gonna be 17. Sooner than you think. He’s a good-looking boy.” Yikes!
At the maternity store, Celia managed to lift enough cash for an eight ball, only to be informed that Ignacio was cutting her off. ”No more for you,” he told her. ”You’re not good.” Despite her protestations to the contrary, a sneeze of blood to Ignacio’s head pretty much sealed her fate.
Nancy had yet to be clued in to Celia’s deteriorating condition, but her trusty brother-in-law was about to open her eyes to another potential problem involving Shane. She was expecting a gun, but what she got was a different kind of load, triggered by the photo stashed at page 96 of Yes I Can. Was there a definite connection? ”I’m hundred percent positive,” said Andy, but he wasn’t about to step in. ”Not this time,” he said. ”This is way outside my kink zone.” His advice? ”Confront the situation, deal with it head-on. Or…make peace with it, let it slide. You know, boys will be boys.” Dreading the idea of having to sit Shane down for a talk, she agonized: Why couldn’t it have been a gun?
Dangerously close to coming face-to-face with a barrel herself, Celia took off down the tunnel waving a wad of cash. She happened upon one worker, but despite her offer to fool around, he wasn’t about to help her score. Instead, he and Ignacio grabbed Celia by the arms and forced her back to the other side.
NEXT: The birds and the bees and the hot mom
South of the border and above ground, Andy and Doug continued their mission to find Maria. An elderly woman claimed to know her, but would she lead Doug to his lost love? ”If I feel like it,” she said. Doug, admittedly vulnerable, didn’t take it well. ”Don’t tease me, you crusty whore,” he blurted, to which Andy had to explain that a bribe was in order (you’d think an ex-politician would know that game intimately). But a shot of tequila wasn’t going to do it, either — it was all about cold, hard cash. The three of them exited, but waiting for them in the back alley was none other than the nameless ”bad coyote belt-stealer guy,” gun in hand and ready to fire. Fortunately, for the two hapless gringos, the bar patrons came to their defense. ”El Andy, he’s a good man,” said the mob’s unofficial leader, Raul. ”He will not die this day. You will die!” But El Andy, ever the pacifist, wouldn’t hear of it. ”Limp away, and limp in peace. We will not harm you,” he said, just before someone threw a bottle to the coyote’s head. Language barrier — what are you gonna do?
Nancy’s Spanish, however, had drastically improved. So much so that when the Tijuana henchmen went off on Celia’s looniness, she not only understood, but agreed and promptly laid out a plan of action: Celia would be fired, but everyone was under strict orders to keep their slip-ups to themselves. For one guy’s troubles, Nancy offered store merchandise — but hopefully not the bra being used to muzzle Celia. The brouhaha was not yet over, though, and now it was Nancy’s turn to cancel on Esteban. Her excuse? ”I have a very sick child on my hands.”
But keeping the tunnel breach a secret from Esteban wasn’t very realistic, considering he had video surveillance throughout the joint. And his loyal underling Cesar, for one, didn’t think Nancy was trustworthy. In fact, she was dangerous, he asserted. ”She is impulsive. She is reckless. But she is not dangerous,” Esteban defended, but Cesar insisted: ”She’s putting you at risk. She is making you reckless.” Esteban wouldn’t hear of it. ”Make me a f—ing drink,” he snapped, putting Cesar firmly back in his place. ”Something dangerous. Something reckless. With a twist.”
After gulping wine, Nancy worked up the courage to have a responsible adult-to-child sit-down with each of her sons. She stuttered, searching for the right word to describe both Silas’ cougar fixation and Shane’s obsession with her naked picture — weird? peculiar? eccentric? quirky? The last would do. In a brilliantly edited sequence that cut between the two soliloquies, she said virtually the same thing to both sons, which was equally relevant to each of them. ”According to Freud, a lot of people want to have sex with their mother — or substitutes for their mother, and it’s normal in the planning stages, but it should stop there.” The speech devolved somewhat, with Nancy encouraging Shane to pick up a copy of Jugs and Silas to screw more high-school girls, but at least she got it out in the open, and swore to never speak of either incident ever again. With a glimmer of light at the end of a trying day, Nancy was preparing for her big night out with Esteban when, mid-mascara, he called to cancel again. The little black dress would not make its debut tonight, and those scratch marks on her back — now around five days old — were fading faster than Nancy would have liked.
NEXT: It takes a village…to smuggle a human
The next morning, Celia awoke with a needle sticking out of her forehead. ”Mom, are you shooting heroin?” Isabelle inquired. Celia reminded her that it was only Restylane — for her lips. ”You need help,” said Isabelle, ”I’m calling dad.” Once again, protesting was pointless. Another example of her already leaky pipes was plenty convincing — mom needed rehab in the worst way.
It turned out that rehabbing his image was like a new lease on life for Shane, who walked the halls of his high school with confidence and a new badass attitude. Everyone got the picture, and rumors were swirling — that he was a psycho who killed his dad; that he made a necklace out of popular kid Dan’s teeth; that he had his own limo and bodyguard. It didn’t take long for two of the school’s bad girls to notice either: They had already written Shane’s names on their tummies. They cornered Shane to ask, ”Do you party?” Without hesitation, Shane replied enthusiastically — yeah!
His brother, on the other hand, was sending the wrong kind of signal. After bitching about his mom’s disapproval of his relationship with Lisa, Silas cavalierly announced that ”the clock strikes 18, and I’m done. With all of it.” But Lisa was more empathetic to Nancy than he had anticipated, it seemed. Sure, they were in business together — passing bags of weed inside hero rolls — but moving in together, while not illegal after he graduated from minor to adult, was just as sketchy.
Back in Tijuana, El Andy was busy being feted at the local bar, where he joined Mexican greats like Zapata and Pancho Villa on the wall of fame. ”It takes a village to smuggle a human,” he told his faithful followers, pointing to a depressed Doug nursing his beer in a far-off corner. ”The man is in love with a beautiful notion,” Andy later explained to Raul, the bartender, before heading over to console his friend. Doug whined: ”I’m a sad and lonely sidekick. I’m Andrew Ridgeley.” Andy never bought the former Wham-er’s solo album, although Doug did — and it sucked. But there was hope: Raul might be able to help El Andy’s buddy find Maria. It had only been a couple of weeks. Maybe she wasn’t that far away.
Dealing with relationship issues of his own, Silas arrived home deflated. ”Lisa and I have decided to slow things down and nurture ourselves more,” he confessed to his mom. At a loss for words, and maybe unsure of whether to show empathy or relief, Nancy’s offered this consolation: ”Feel free to raid the fridge, take the car, play your music too loud.” Silas simply muttered, ”Thanks, mom.”
And with that Nancy prepared to turn in for the night when she discovered a twinkling light coming from the porch area. She would not be disappointed this time: It was Esteban’s doing and — surprise! — he was actually there in the flesh, ready to snuggle. So, with two guards strategically positioned outside, snuggle they did.
What?s on the horizon for the drug-pushing super couple? Next week?s scenes hinted at a trip to the far reaches of the mind, but is Nancy already in way over her head? Duh, we all know the answer to that, but let?s discuss anyway. How badly could this end? And how much do we love the new badass Shane?