I hope this wasn’t the week you convinced a True Blood virgin to tune in. The blood-saturated boudoir? Maryann’s campfire orgy? Forget “pushing the envelope.” This show pushes the whole U.S. Postal Service. I suggest you start your planning now for the season finale. It’s going to be a doozy.
DALLAS
Bummed when HBO revealed Sookie and Bill wouldn’t be hanging around Bon Temps much, I’m now head over heels for this plotline. Sookie does Dallas is fabulous fun. And meeting new vamps rocks. Last week we met gorgeous Isabelle, and this week we learn that she’s all humaned up with Hugo. Sookie and Bill now have a legit parallel to their relationship—Jessica and Hoyt’s teen infatuation doesn’t count, although judging from Hoyt’s cross-state journey to see J, it could be more than puppy love.
The Sookie/FOTS snafu I hinted at his come: sister is in serious trouble. Now this is where I pause for a moment of quiet reflection in an attempt to identify why, in an hour of television that highlighted the grisly murder of two innocent people (and that blood thing that I can’t even write about), and a mystical cult/orgy meeting in the woods with writhing, black-eyed revelers, it was the time spent with the blessedly messed up Newlins that left me white-knuckled. Thus is the beauty of True Blood. Glistening-fanged vampires? Pssht. Radical religious freaks? Now that’s some scary ish.
Before Sookie and Hugo are captured, they take a church tour. As the Rev. opens the door, he warns that the “amount of love coming from behind these doors might just knock you over.” The golden light streaming out was classic imagery. I ate it up. What I didn’t eat up was the Rev’s good-guy act. There’s been something fishy about him since day one. Always touting his wife’s “puddin?” Creepy. Sookie gets inside his mind: He has a vamp locked in the basement, and can’t wait to crucify him. Godric? It would take some serious vamp-catching skills to net a score like that, but if it’s not him, who’s down there? More troubling: Rev. knows who Sookie is. We’ve got a mole, and I doubt it’s Eric. Granted, he does covet Sookie. But would he work with the FOTS, who might have his maker trapped? I’m not buying.
Sarah does her best to voice her disapproval, but the good Rev has Sookie and Hugo thrown into the dungeon, dropping the “c-word” for good measure. So noble.
Thanks to telepathy, Bill knows Sook’s in trouble, but he’s sidetracked by one heck of a seductress. Summoned by Eric, who casually disengages from a disappointing midnight snack, we meet Lorena, Bill’s maker. What a knockout. And that drawl? But this one’s evil. Check her influence on Bill—in a flashback to Chicago, 1926 (this vampire dork would like to point out that Edward Cullen was also vampin’ it up on the streets of Chicago), we meet a savage (but musical!) Bill who helps Lorena make quite a mess of two humans. Eric intends to use Lorena as a distraction so Bill can’t protect Sookie. It’s working. Bill is powerless against his maxi-dress-wearing maker.
Meanwhile, Luke and Jason are building the structure that will set the stage to what could be the ultimate throwdown—I believe once the T.B.D vamp is strapped down, awaiting fiery death via sunbeam, Jason will spring to action and once and for all pick a team ... unless, of course, it rains that day.
Jason is oblivious to Sookie’s predicament, thanks to Sarah. Finding her sobbing (and in a shiny gold metallic suit. Really, who dresses her?), she admits that her husband is using him and the rest of Jesus Camp to wage war. Sarah is convinced Jason is meant for her. Jason, wary of premarital sex (little late, Stackhouse) thanks to a pep talk from Luke, rebuffs her. But she convinces him that it’s God’s will to do the nasty in His house. Can’t argue with that.
BON TEMPS
Daphne, you biotch! I knew there was a “betrayal” coming, but this floored me. Poor Sam. Foreshadowing his predicament (“it’s been my experience that drums mean trouble,” he quips), Daphne leads him into a trap. Of course, the credits rolled before we learned Sam’s fate, but he looked like a sacrificial lamb (or dog) of Maryann’s impromptu orgy. But color me confused—the previews showed Sam and Daphne in an embrace, as if nothing happened. Zoinks! As to the orgy, I offer no wisdom. I can’t figure out Maryann’s motives. All I know is she does not tolerate pre-shower sarcasm, likes to spastically vibrate, and gets down with sex, food, or—bonus!—a combo.
I’ve long associated Eggs with Maryann’s witchery. But as he and Tara go on a mission for a water-heater part (here’s to domestic bliss), he is inexplicably drawn to what appears to be a murder site. As he cries, I believe him that he has no idea why. Could Eggs not be the bad guy I chalked him up to be? I hope so, because being bereft of those abs might cause me to do something crazy, like don a festive dragon-horned mask. Speaking of festive, dragon-horned masks, when Tara and Eggs stumble upon Maryann’s gathering, they look genuinely disgusted and shocked. Fast-forward 30 seconds, and they’re all up in it. Whatever Maryann does, she does it well.
Besides Maryann, not much was shaking in Bon Temps, although we did get a surprise visit from the delicious Pam. She’s putting Lafay back to work slingin’ V. Why? My guess is to monitor any new product that comes on the market, like Godric in a vial.
We’re also privy to a touching moment between Terry and Lafayette. Lafay, terrified when he hallucinates Eric’s face on the body of Andy B., nearly passes out from fear, and Terry serves as a shoulder for Lafay to lay his bead-dazzled-hair-netted head on.
Andy, not buying Lafay’s “gay cruise” cover story because—and this is solid logic—he notes Lafay’s lack of swag and surmises if he were on a gay cruise he’d come back “with even more pizzazz,” thinks Lafay murdered the exorcist-slash-cashier-at-Walgreen’s chick. Oh, Andy. Maybe we’ll make a good detective out of you yet.
BITE-SIZED
—Jessica Hamby, I don’t care about the whole you’re-immortal-and-possess-all types-of-crazy-magic thing. I just want to know what shampoo you’re using. Your hair is to die for.
—Hoyt’s concern that Jessica thinks he’s “just one of those boyfriends who doesn’t text back” was endearing. And I know his mother keeps her doll collection in his closet, but after last night’s dashing heroics, he ain’t no mama’s boy anymore.
—Sookie shuns him, Daphne dogs him: I’m putting Sam on match.com. “Rakish-haired, human-dog shifter-type seeks non-vampire loving, non-devious shifter type for romantic nights spent running from monsters. Send pic to Mad4Merlotte.”
—This just in: Jason Stackhouse declares abstinence! Five minutes later, changes mind.
—Bill Compton rocking the Don Draper comb over? Two thumbs up!
—Did you catch that ridiculous Jesus painting behind Newlin’s desk? It was not pretty.
—The sickly-sweet, sunny Southern Belle meet-and-greet between Sookie and Sarah was enough for me to hope Sarah ends up with Jason and takes up residence in Bon Temps. How much trouble do you think those two blondes could cook up? Even if Sarah does look like "vanilla pudding in real life."
—I dug the easy banter between Luke and Jason. But as the war draws near, will Luke become just one more thorn in Jason’s perfectly tanned, muscled side?
—Is Sookie going to go all Bella Swan and demand to be turned? From the looks of her convo with Hugo, she’s thinking about it.
How is Sookie going to get out of this mess? Are Sarah and Steve playing Good Jesus Freak/Bad Jesus Freak? And, oh Eric. What do you have up your sleeves? — amy kates
