"So ... what do you think?" Dawson asks, not only Joey, but a cheering worldwide audience, no doubt. Joey is perched right where she belongs, on Dawson's bed, analyzing the latest cinematic offering, and answering his question by debating whether or not the film they've just seen is a director's cut, on account of all the blood and gore in it. All is right with the world again.
Dawson, however, wasn't asking Joey for her opinion on the movie, he was asking her for her opinion about movie night itself. "It's the first movie night post break-down, and I'd say it went very well," he smiles. Joey's not sure how she feels about it, so instead of answering, she offers a quick congratulations and comments that she should go. (feeling a little flustered are we, Josephine?)
Not so fast though, Dawson wants to prolong the evening for as long as he can. He asks her to look at some head shots of potential actresses to play the role of Sammy in his movie. Joey agrees, but her agitation shows through. "You're really okay with all this?" she questions. "With what?" Dawson answers, eyeball deep in photos. "With ... you and me," Joey asks tentatively. He replies that he is, in fact, he's thrilled they are finally past all their "relationship trauma."
Joey agrees, but we get the feeling her heart and her head had to do battle for a while before coming to that conclusion. "Great!" Dawson enthuses, cluelessly overlooking the hesitation in her voice and surging forward. "Now that you've offered to help me out on the movie, you can help solve my big dilemma: who do we cast as Sammy?" telling her she's a distinct unobtainable original.
Joey's taken aback, and doesn't quite know what to say. (can't really blame her, I mean put yourself in her shoes ... helping cast someone to play you in a movie your ex-boyfriend is directing about your life together, and all at the age of only 15? a little too weird, even for the likes of me!) "Why not progress beyond the notion of the character as me?" she begins, "Instead of looking for another me, why not find an actress who can bring her own unique interpretation to the role?" (irony of ironies, her words will come back to haunt her in spades)
But enough about casting and the superficial issues of Dawson's film. Joey isn't finished with her first line of questioning yet, that of Dawson's seemingly cool-as-a-carrot (I don't like cucumbers) demeanor regarding her very presence in his room. "I'm amazed at how together you are about us," Joey marvels. Dawson shrugs. "I've learned to let go ... plus you let me go," he offers. "First, it was really hard to accept, but you moved on, you moved on with Jack, you let go ... so I, in turn, let go of you."
His speech is very noble and poignant and mature, but perhaps a little too much so for Joey, who chooses the former of the classic flight-or-fight options. "Since we're letting go, I should go because ... this ... yeah, um ... well ... I really, huh ... you have a lot to do, yeah ... um, yeah ... goodnight!" she states ever-so-eloquently.
Not fazed in the slightest, Dawson happily wishes her goodnight. In fact, he doesn't even look up from the pictures spread out around him. Joey looks at him, in utter confusion, one last time, then leaves the room, right through the ... door. : ( (like I said, movie night is back, it just isn't back to normal ... yet)
It's clear what Dawson's trying to do here. He's pulling one of the oldest tricks in the book, the old make-'em-think-you-don't-need-'em-and-they'll-realize-they-do classic (attempted on yours truly just last week, funnily enough). The underlying principle here is reverse psychology -- the more you act unfazed and not bothered, the more it will faze and bother the object of your affection. Theoretically, this should cause her/him to suddenly realize the error of her/his ways and come running back to you in a New York minute. It's a nice idea, but let's just say ... it doesn't always work. (then again, this is TV ...)
Cut to Joey in art class, where they're still studying the nude form. This week's model is a bored-looking but rather pretty petite brunette, who has propped herself up on an elbow while lying on chaise lounge amid strains of Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons." "The task is not to merely represent the subject," begins the instructor. "You're trying to invoke some feeling for the subject. This is your work, so personalize it." Of course he means it in terms of drawing, but it's an interesting statement to apply in terms of Dawson's movie -- classic foreshadowing.
Speaking of Speilberg Jr., he chooses that exact moment to walk into the class and approach Joey. She's as surprised to see him as he is to see the nude girl in the centre of the class. ("she's ... naked," he says in genuine amazement -- too funny!) When Joey demands to know what he's doing there, he explains he was doing research at the library, but that he wanted to deliver the new revised (again??) draft of his script, hot off the presses. Just then, the instructor approaches. "The peep show's over," he warns. "This is an art class, it's closed to wide-eyed visitors. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he finishes very sternly.
Embarrassed, Dawson is eager to comply -- so eager, in fact, that he almost knocks over an easel on the way out of the room, a move which earns him looks of chagrin from Joey and amusement from the model.
Over in Andie's bedroom, Pacey is postulating about his posterior. "It's impossible to get a sense of one's own butt," he notes. Andie pops her head out of her bathroom door, telling him she's seen his butt, and he has nothing to worry about. (I thought this was kind of a cute role-reversal -- it's usually the female who is obsessed with body image, and the male who is reassuring) "Are you checking your butt out in the mirror?" she asks with a giggle from the bathroom. "No!" Pacey replies, as he does just that.
But there are more pressing issues than butt-watching going on here -- in the bathroom, Andie quietly takes the last two Xanax, then throws an empty prescription bottle into the garbage. She goes into the bedroom to continue their discussion of derrieres, as Pacey trades places with her and goes into the bathroom for a tissue. As he throws it into the garbage, he sees the empty pill bottle. Picking it up, he reads the label, which clearly cites Andie as the recipient of a prescription for 20 happy pills.
After his close encounter of the fleshy kind, Dawson takes refuge in the Capeside library. His thoughts are interrupted by none other than the Fleshy One herself, a cross between a young Winona Ryder and an elf. "See anything you like?" she asks, in a blatant double-entendre. "Oh my God," he replies, a little flustered. "You're the ..." "Model," she finishes. "Devon." After the introductions are made, he comes up with the most endearing statement to break the ice: "You must think I'm a total perv!" (well, I thought it was cute)
"I'm leaning towards deviant," Devon replies mischievously. "My psych professor would say you have latent desires ... You need for someone to watch you watching." (Psych professor, my butt -- he's a teenage guy, you're a reasonably attractive, older girl stretched out in your birthday suit in front of him ... what did you expect him to do?!) Dawson agrees with me, telling her he's sorry to disappoint her, but that he was just dropping off something for a friend.
"Psychology's not my major anyway," she sniffs. Dawson isn't really interested in her field of study, though, he's more interested in finding out how she can do that. "It can't be comfortable," he muses. Devon replies that she's a drama major, so she just looks at it as acting ... plus the fact it helps that the money doesn't suck.
All of a sudden, her field of study has shot to the top of Dawson's attention span. "Oh, you're an actress?" he asks. "I'm a director." Devon remarks that she didn't know there was a film school in Capeside, to which Dawson gingerly replies there isn't, and that he's in high school. "Ohhhh, you're trying to make your first film," she replies with more than a touch of condescension. "That's cute ... good luck."
Dawson puts her in her place, though. "Actually, my first film won the Junior Division of the Boston Film Festival," he answers, "giving me the funds to make my second effort." Devon is impressed with this, so Dawson proceeds to tell her he's still casting one of the leads. "Shooting starts in two days, we're kind of in a crunch situation ... I'd love it if you'd read for it?"
She mulls it over. "It's funded by the Boston Film Festival?" "Yeah, absolutely," he nods enthusiastically. Giving her a copy of the script with his name and phone number on it, he tells her to look over the part of Sammy. "I'd love to hear what you think," he smiles. "Be careful Dawson," Devon counters. "Stronger men have been crushed by what I think." (Oh I'm so sure ... get over yourself, sweetheart!)
"Grams, you're a godsend!" Now there's a sentence we never thought we'd hear Miss Jennifer Lindley utter. But over at the Ryan household, Grams (resurrected from a long period of mourning, it would seem) has entered the kitchen with a cute little puppy in tow, carrying boxes and bags of snacks for the movie rehearsals. Jen casts an interested look in the puppy's direction (did I mention he was of the two-legged variety?), whom Grams introduces as Tyson Hicks (personally, I would introduce him as Jonathan Taylor Thomas's identical twin brother).
Ty the puppy is equally interested in Jen, and tries to sniff out some information. "Your grandmother tells me you're working on a movie," he smiles warmly. "Yeah," she replies with a matching smile, "we're gearing to start up." Playing matchmaker, Grams hits that Ty has expressed an interest in helping out on the film. And playing it cool, Jen asks if he has any experience working on a film set. "No," he answers, "But I've worked on a bunch of theatre productions. I'm pretty good with my hands and a fast learner." (well well, you're hired, then! I mean, what else does she need to know?)
Jen hires him on the spot, noting that the film is a little understaffed, to the point where even Grams is helping out with craft services. "We could use the help," she notes. "Well, you can use me for anything," Ty grins. "Excellent," Jen replies with a twinkle in her eye, and we're left wondering exactly how she interpreted that last sentence of his.
In Dawson's room, Pacey confesses about the buried treasure he found in Andie's bathroom garbage. "So you found a bottle of pills," Dawson states. "Big deal, I mean, my parents' medicine cabinet is like a veritable pharmacy." Pacey counters that Xanax is not your "typical Saturday night muscle relaxant" and is to be used for severe anxiety.
"You haven't noticed Andie being any more high-strung lately, have you?" he asks Dawson. "No," comes the reply, "I just watch her bounce off the walls." Dawson adds if Pacey is so worried, he should just ask Andie about the medication. Ever the gallant gentleman, though, and once again proving maturity beyond his years, Pacey declines. "I don't want to make the situation worse," he reasons. "With her family, she's under enough stress as it is. If and when she's comfortable, she'll confide in me." He's torn though, and tells Dawson it isn't in his nature to sit by and do nothing while the girl suffers.
"She's operating under a lot of stress," Dawson argues reasonably. "If you want to help here, all you can do is make sure the time she spends with you is as stress-free as possible. Help her have fun." That's it, discussion over, Dawson wants Pacey to help him adjust his movie posters for inclusion in any movie scenes shot in his bedroom. Pacey finds this a bit of a megalomanical (try saying that even two times, fast) move, even for Dawson: "You know, filming your own life story in your own bedroom is a little perverse, even for you," he notes with a grin.
Later on that evening, outside the Leerys' home, Devon approaches Dawson, who is setting up props and blocking out scenes with furniture. "I read the script," she states crisply. "What do you think?" Dawson asks eagerly. "Well ... I didn't love it," she replies. "All that angst and overanalyzing and hesitancy ... I really had to search my psyche and call back my adolescence --"
Dawson is crestfallen, but turns his disappointment into sarcasm, "Oh yeah, so few years ago," he snaps. "There is a vast difference between us," Devon replies, using the jaded and cynical tone college students do so well when speaking to anyone who isn't an undergraduate. "So you're saying you found it heavy-handed and overly verbose," he says coolly. "You're saying you're not interested." "No," she answers. "I'm saying I managed to muddle through the $20 words and psychospeak to get to the core of the Samantha character."
Too little, too late. Dawson's got his boxers in a bunch now, and he isn't about to let up. "Yeah, well, what I'm saying is that I'm not interested," he snaps. "The more I think about it, you're not right for the part. You're a little ... small." (one assumes he means merely in stature and not in terms of pettiness)
Now it's Devon who's miffed. "So, what? You're saying that because I have an opinion, you're not going to let me read for the part? Well, here's the cold, hard truth -- if you can't take a little constructive criticism, you're not going to make it," she tells him off. "Good luck in high school. I'm sorry I wasted my time."
As she begins to walk across the lawn, Dawson calls after her, apologizing for over-reacting. "Maybe you're right," he counters reasonably. "While you're here, I might as well let you audition ... say, scene five?" Devon's in agreement, but she wants to audition on her terms. "Scene 15," she tells him crisply. "Closer to the middle. Give me a minute." (She's assertive, that much is for certain. How many actresses do you know who veto the director's choice of scenes they want to audition for? She speaks her mind, takes no crap and knows what she wants ... hmm ... sounds an awful lot like someone else we all know, don't it? Except maybe for that last part ...)
After getting into character, Devon and Dawson begin reading the Joey and Dawson, er ... I mean, Sammy and Wade, scene from the end of the "Miss Windbreaker" Beauty Pageant. (I really don't like the new name they've come up with for that ... brings up some rather, er, disgusting mental images) How confusing is that though -- Rachael and James are acting as Devon and Dawson who are acting as Sammy and Wade, who are based on Joey and Dawson ... did everyone catch that?
Dawson is blown away by Devon's performance, and watches her soliloquy in amazement. While Devon is no Joey, watching her mime Joey's every move and gesture, and capturing her anger and inflections with a disarming, spot-on perfection ... it's a pretty impressive performance. "Is that kinda what you had in mind?" she asks, when she transforms out of character. "That was kinda perfect," an overwhelmed Dawson replies.
Capeside's newest lovebirds, Joey and Jack are working side-by-side in matching uniforms over at the Icehouse. Joey tells Jack she has to leave early because she promised Dawson she would help him with the shoot. "Yeah," Jack chimes in, "He'll have us working all day." "Us?" Joey asks in amazement, to which Jack replies that Jen asked him to help out because they were understaffed. "How does Dawson feel about this?" she questions, and in typical moronic, monosyllabic Jack-fashion, he replies, "I dunno." We may not know how Dawson feels, but it's clear from the look on her face how Joey feels -- anxious and agitated.
Putting some distance between herself and Jack, Joey goes out to serve none other than Devon. When she asks to take her order, Devon goes into acting mode and mimics her words aloud. Needless to say, Joey finds this a little peculiar. But the more Joey tries to ignore her, the more the odd little girl persists. "Are you ready to order?" Joey demands, only to have the same words thrown back at her, parrot-fashion. Between the intense stares and the copied gestures, Devon finally manages to order her food, not a moment too soon for Joey, who walks away briskly from the wacko back to Jack. (hmph ... out of the frying pan, into the fire ...)
Joey asks Jack to go serve the girl out there, because she's "really weirding (me) out." He obliges (of course ... rolling eyes ... anything for his lady love, right?), and when he presents her with her beverage, Devon asks him if he knows the waitress that served him earlier. "You could say that," he remarks, with a grin I'd personally love to wipe off his twisted little face.
You know, for someone who's supposed to be coming out of the closet next week, he certainly likes to imply that he "knows" Joey in the biblical sense quite a bit ... he couldn't manage to flat-out deny to Abby that he didn't sleep with Joey during her initial interrogation, he inferred to Dawson on several occasions that not only did Joey show him her many "talents" during their infamous drawing session, but that Dawson had better respect what they had going ... now he's even implying to complete strangers that he and Joey are very tight, indeed. So, what gives? Anyway, Devon asks Jack if he would mind telling her everything he knows about Joey, a request he is slightly bewildered by.
Andie, meanwhile, is studying outside in her back garden when she's interrupted by those familiar words of affection from her one true love: "Hey McPhee! How's it hangin', girl?" Smiling up at Pacey, she tells him she can't concentrate, she's got a tonne of homework and has been reading the same paragraph for the last 20 minutes. Pacey decides it's as good a time as any to broach the subject -- he tells her he's been wrestling with whether or not to confront her with this situation, but he thinks he should just get it out in the open. After a deep breath, he comes out with it: "Do you want to talk to me about the pill bottle I saw in your bathroom yesterday? The Xanax?"
Andie insists for the second time in as three weeks that it's her mother's prescription. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," Pacey replies sadly, "but don't lie to me, please Andie ..." She knows she must come clean, and softly tells him the truth, that she started taking it right after her brother died, to help her out with her mood swings.
"Why did you feel you had to hide it from me?" Pacey asks gently. "I don't know ... I guess I didn't know how you would react to it," she sighs. "It doesn't matter now, my doctor won't renew my prescription. He wants me to try therapy instead, but just thinking about it makes me more stressed out." Pacey suggests therapy might not be such a bad idea, and that it couldn't hurt at the very least. "Look Pacey, I can take care of myself," Andie tells him, trying to sound reassuring. "Don't look so worried. I'm okay, okay?" He's satisfied, but not utterly convinced of her well-being. "But if you weren't," he asks, "you would tell me ... right?" (no worries, Pacey, you will know ... trust me, you will know ... she'll "tell" you loud and crystal clear!) "Yeah," she smiles.
It's rehearsal time for Creek Daze, and Abby has decided to pull a no-show, so Jen gets to read her role, which coincidentally, is based on ... Jen herself. The scene she (Kim), Chris (Wade) and Devon (Sammy) are practicing, is the three's a crowd movie night scene from last season ... you know, the one where Jen, Dawson and Joey try a movie night together and it doesn't work, so both girls wind up leaving? As Jen, Chris and Devon reprise the roles, Joey approaches, but hangs back and watches quietly from afar.
The trio read through their lines to the point where Kim (Jen) offers to leave, and Wade (Chris) lasciviously tells her to stay. "The more the merrier," he leers. Director Dawson yells for a cut, and tells Chris he's playing the character all wrong. "The way you're saying it is all wrong," he corrects. "You're not trying to get her into a menage-a-trois, you just want her to join you."
"Yeah, but what about Sammy?" Chris asks. "It's obvious that Sammy's into me ... do I just ignore it?" "Yeah," Dawson responds, then corrects himself. "No. No, you don't ignore it, you're just not aware of it yet. The nuances are subtle, but very different." Telling the actors to take five, Dawson mutters to Jen that he can't believe he asked a "jock with the insight of a wart hog" to play a title role.
Joey approaches then, and Dawson enthusiastically introduces her to Devon, whose eyes light up at meeting her real-life counterpart from the show (Creek Daze) within the show (Dawson's Creek). "Devon's playing the role of the Sammy character," Dawson tells Joey. "You were at the Ice House yesterday," Joey nods, the pieces finally falling into place. "Yeah," Devon replies sheepishly. "Now you know why I was acting so peculiar."
Dawson reminds Joey that she already knows Devon from art class, to which Joey sarcastically comments that the clothes threw her at first. (tee hee!) There's an instant defensiveness between the two, like two alley cats sizing each other up before a fight. Devon's got her back up about how she plays the character, while Joey's on guard because she is the character.
After Dawson has left the two "Joeys" alone and gone off to coach Chris on the finer points of acting, Devon asks Joey for some insights into the Samantha character. "I'm going for the Method approach to Sammy," Devon explains, "and I have a few dozen questions I want to ask you." "A few dozen?" Joey replies, a little dazed. "Well," begins Devon, "I think Sammy and Wade are soulmates, forever connected by an overpowering and transcendent love ... what do you think?"
It's obvious Devon's fishing for information about the real Sammy and Wade here and not the characters on celluloid. And it's doubly obvious from the look on Joey's face that she is more than a little uncomfortable with the implications of such a question, or the answer she is expected to give.
More rehearsals, this time, the notorious scene after the dance from this season, where Joey and Dawson break up. The filming goes well enough, but Jack "Klutz" McPhee almost knocks over some equipment, forcing another take five from Dawson -- a break which alarms Jen, who thinks they're already too far behind as it is.
Puppy Ty (he just reminds me of a golden Lab or something, all cute and hyper and overly friendly) tells Jen that while he would like to say an accident like the one they just had will never happen again, "with you standing nearby, I lose all ability to concentrate on the job at hand." Jen smiles, but merely underscores my Ty-as-puppy metaphor by telling him with a smile, "Down, boy!"
Over in another corner of the set, Jack is bluntly asking Joey if the whole thing really bothers her (Well, d-uh!! No, actually all 15-year-old girls want their highly personal relationships made into movies and shown to their high school peers!). Joey goes into denial mode, which should give him his answer right there but it doesn't. "Please," Joey insists. "It's a movie. Why should it bother me?" Jack counters that it's about her, and suggests if he were trying to get over someone, the last thing he would do would be to make a movie out of it: "Someone needs to tell Oliver Stone over there that the war over here is over."
"Dawson is clearly over me, I promise" Joey replies (more trying to convince herself than Jack, I'll bet). "Where's your evidence?" Jack asks, not convinced, adding that he has proof to the contrary. (Oh sure, now who's acting like Oliver Stone, huh?) "Don't think so much, Jack," Joey teases. "Don't worry about it. It will be fine." Jack remarks he can handle it, that as long as Joey is over him, nothing else matters, and "Dawson can do whatever he wants." Joey grins at Jack and leans in for a kiss and a hug. But over his shoulder, the grin dissipates into a half-hearted, sad little wistful smile as she looks at Dawson over Jack's shoulder.
The camera shows a series of jump cuts in quick succession set to movies (The Barenaked Ladies' "It's All Been Done Before" I think ... interesting choice of song, no?) -- Jack wincing in pain as he experiences extreme feedback from a sound monitor (I kinda liked that image); Andie trying to give Chris a prop which he doesn't want, so she throws it at him and storms off in a huff, Pacey hot at her heels; Joey sneaking up on Jack and surprising him with a kiss (I kinda didn't like that image); Dawson calling out direction; Devon studying Joey intently and imitating her every move; and finally Devon and Dawson hugging, with a jealous Joey staring at them from afar (like I said, green is not her colour).
Each shot is preceded by a quick snap of those black-and-white striped wooden thingies that directors write scene / take numbers down on the side of and the top part snaps shut to indicate the scene is about to be shot. (By the way, does anyone know the proper name for this particular thing? Cause for some reason, my memory bank is overdrawn at the moment, and I've drawn a blank cheque! Please e-mail if you do, I'd be much obliged. :) )
Ty the wonder puppy bounds up to Jen, who asks if he's being a good boy. "Always," he replies. (you just know if he was a dog he'd be the type to overpower his mistress with wet sloppy kisses all the time!) "What a disappointment," Jen notes with a twinkle in her eye, then uses the oldest trick in the book to get attention from her new toy boy -- the old "ooooh, I have such a sore neck / back / shoulder ..." routine. And, being a puppy, he falls for it hook, line and sinker (or leash, collar and dog tag, as the case may be), and promptly begins to rub, rub, rub away.
"It feels like you have some experience at this," Jen purrs, to which Ty replies, "If you call being manipulated into a neck rub experience, then yeah!" Jen then asks if she can "manipulate" him into going out with her tonight, to ease the tension of a hard day on the set. "I think that can be arranged," Ty smiles. "But first, you've got to put yourself in my hands," he smiles. "I think that can be arranged," Jen replies mischievously.
Meanwhile, Devon and Chris have turned into twin Streisands, and are giving our favourite director seven different kinds of grief over how they think their roles should be played. (hmph ... actors. All they ever wanna do is direct ...) "All I'm saying is that I don't think my character would play it hurt," Chris argues, while Devon wants to know where Sammy's anger is coming from. (Um, hello? What planet are these two from, please?) "I think I would play it cool, maintain my dignity," Chris reckons. "And I don't think I blow a gasket over this," Devon pipes up.
Dawson is agitated, to say the least. "Chris," he sighs, "Not everyone is as cool as you. When Wade finds out Sammy is double-crossing him with some other guy, the last thing he thinks about is preserving his self-dignity. And Devon," he continues, "you're an angry girl ...it's the essence of who you are. Right now, you're frustrated that Wade can't see you've moved beyond him." Though Dawson knows exactly what Dawson is talking about, it's become a little lost in the translation. "Can't relate," Chris offers blankly. "Never been there." (Oh come on! No one is that popular!)
"Okay," Dawson sighs, wondering how he is going to make Chris feel his pain. Suddenly, a certain brunette on the other side of the set catches his eye and he's inspired. "It's agony," he says softly, staring at Joey. "Complete, excruciating agony. It's like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and stomped on. You can't breathe, don't want to eat, can't function ... it's the most intense pain you'll ever feel, and the worst part is, there's no way to relieve it. It's unyielding, merciless torture, and it's yours for life."
Still gazing after Joey, he turns to address Devon. "And you, you feel misunderstood, because the guy who you believed in your whole life can't see the potential of what you can become. You're petrified, confused ... you can't stay with him, you can't stay without him ... you're frustrated, because you feel so alone ..." He trails off, lost in thought as his eyes drink Joey in.
A little later, Joey is on the set inside the school, looking at pictures. "Hey, Sammy," Devon approaches her. "I was wondering if I could speak with you?" Joey looks up, a little puzzled. "It's Joey, actually," she smiles. "Right, well, anyway," Devon dismisses her breezily, "I'm having a problem with a scene, see ... I just don't get where my anger comes from. Personally, I'm not angry by nature (no, you're just a bitch by nature), and I was wondering if you could show me how you do it."
"Do what?" Joey asks, now more than just a little bit puzzled. "Be angry," Devon smiles with that increasingly-familiar whisper of condescension. "Oh, see, personally, I'm not angry by nature either," Joey answers evenly, proving she can give as good as she gets. "That would be the fictional part of this autobiographical tale." Ignoring Devon, she turns back to her work at hand.
"Right ...." Devon replies, then turns up the venom a notch or two. "So, tell me ... how do you date one guy while still in love with another?" (Ye-ouch ... Abby Morgan, step aside, your reign as Queen Bitch of Capeside has officially been usurped -- Devon's staged a coup in absentia!) Joey won't give her the satisfaction, though. "Look, I know what you're trying to do," she tells her coolly. "But don't go there." But Devon displays the trait common to all ruling monarchs of the kingdom of bitchiness -- tenacity. She just won't let go of the subject at hand. "Please," she counters, rolling her eyes. "I see you lip-locked with that puppy dog (apparently Ty has a fellow litter-mate), but your heart is so clearly with Dawson. What is this Jack guy, a safety net?"
Joey won't let up either, though. "Oh, you're good," she retorts, "but I'm not that easily manipulated." Just then, the puppy in question comes trotting over at the sight of his mistress in distress. "Is everything okay?" Jack asks. Instead of an answer, though, he's met with another question, from Devon: "What's it like being a transition guy?" "Would you stop it?" Joey barks, but Queen Devon is on a roll. "It must be really hard opening your heart to a girl whose heart is reserved for someone else," she remarks.
"Look, you annoying little third-rate wannabe," Joey begins, suitably enraged. Devon's won this one, Joey's fallen clearly into her trap. "Why don't you take your irritating self and prey on somebody who doesn't see through your pathetic attempt to masquerade bitchiness as research!"
"Thank you," Devon smiles icily before walking off. (like I said, the girl always gets what she wants ...) "What was that?" Jack asks with a dumb, vacant look on his face. Joey can't be bothered to answer him though, she has more pressing concerns to deal with. "She's too short to play me!" she snaps bitterly and stalks off.
Devon's next tangle is with Andie, the propmistress, who is all bent out of shape that Devon lost a barrette. "What do you mean you don't have it?" Andie hoots. "That barrette is a prop! I need it! How could you be so careless to lose something that doesn't even belong to you?" Andie continues her ranting and raving until Devon the Diva interrupts. "Get a grip, prop girl!" Devon tells her, rolling her eyes.
"Do you see that?" Andie cries to Pacey. "Do you believe her?" Pacey tries to defuse the situation by gently telling Andie he is worried about her, but she insists she's fine. When Pacey insists she's not, Andie blows up like a keg of dynamite. "Thanks for your support!" she screams. Pacey gently remarks that he's starting to feel like he's getting a little screwed either way here, but that only sets off a secondary explosion within her, and this one's a doozy.
"My dad is missing in action, my mom is barely lucid and I'm hanging on by my fingertips (hmm ... personal deja-vu there), and yet somehow you're the one that's screwed? It's always gotta be about Pacey, doesn't it?" she roars. The poor guy replies that while he will be her shoulder to cry on and even her punching bag, she can't make him out to be the bad guy.
Sadly, she does anyway. "I keep adding things to my life instead of subtracting them," Sybil ... I mean, Andie, shouts. "Between school, my mom, Jack, you ... something's gotta give. And the way I see it, the only expendable one on that list is you," she yells. Pacey tells her as softly as possible that she isn't in the right place to make that decision, but Andie will have none of it. "For the first time in my life," she screams, "I'm seeing everything crystal. We're the problem! We need to cool it, because us, that's the problem!" "You don't mean that," Pacey pleads, but apparently, she does. "If you really want to help me," Andie hisses, "Just back off and leave me alone!"
The cast and crew move on to film the post-dance break-up scene, which impresses the director no end. They get it in one take and are getting ready to set up the next shot, when a suitably angry Joey approaches Dawson and demands to speak to him. They go inside, and before Dawson can open his mouth to ask what's wrong, Joey jumps down his throat. "Dawson, why must you insist in reliving in excruciating detail one of the most painful experiences in our lives?" she asks. "Is this your perversely self-defeating way of moving on, or are you just trying to punish me?"
"Neither," Dawson answers, a little bewildered. Up to this point, he thought Joey was just fine with their situation (proving once again, how very clueless he is). Obviously, she isn't though, and her next words prove it: "How can you be so okay with this? Didn't we mean anything to each other? Isn't anything sacred with you?" Again, he isn't given the opportunity to reply, as Joey continues her rant, full speed ahead. "I know you've gotten over us and everything we went through," she shouts, "but has it ever occurred to you that I'm not? It takes time, and I'm happy you are ... I'm glad you found it so easy to just move on, but this movie is self-indulgent and unfair!"
She's finally hit a raw nerve there with ole D-man, and finally the turtle comes out of his shell. "Wait a minute here, let's take a little refresher course!" Dawson yells in reply. "You broke up with me, okay? You have a new boyfriend, you found your art passion, you have a whole new life! And what do I have?"
"A self-obsessed movie," Joey snorts. "Well, forgive me for not letting go of the one thing I have left!" Dawson hollers, to which she replies it isn't "healthy." (oh no, of course not. And "dat-ing" some creepy, klutzy weirdo who seems to have no problem dropping his trousers in her living room, while dreaming of someone else when she kisses him is a recipe for good mental health?)
"I'm not going to sit here and listen to you bitch to me about what I've done, okay Joey? You dumped me! I haven't let go! I haven't moved on! That's why I'm clinging on for dear life to the one thing that's keeping me going!" Dawson's suitably pissed, but he's got a point -- the whole break-up was her idea, not his, so he's entitled to grieve in whichever way he sees fit. Granted, making a movie about it is a little ... out there, but if she doesn't like it, she can just deal. And good for him for standing up to her, looks like he has some backbone after all. He's also brave enough to admit to her face that he hasn't let go or moved on, which she clearly hasn't either, she's just too stubborn and proud to say it. Ironic how Joey's pulling the same move she condemned Jen for last season -- telling Dawson she needs space, and then immediately going out with someone else (the whole Cliff Elliot / fun fair fiasco ring any bells?).
Over at the craft services table, Grams is busily arranging snacks and goodies when Jen approaches and offers to help. As they prepare the food together, Grams tells her granddaughter she was watching her earlier on. Though Jen anticipates the worst, Grams has a pleasant surprise in store for her. "You know what I saw? I saw all these young people working together as a team for a common goal. And then I realized who was in charge of everyone. It was you! I found myself watching this beautiful, accomplished young woman who just happened to be my granddaughter," she smiles.
This clearly pleases Jen, but she brushes it off and jokes that she hopes she had everyone else fooled too. But Grams is as serious as she is sincere in her praise, and remarks on how thrilled she is at the idea of a woman movie producer. (Um, Grams? We've actually been astronauts, Nobel prize winners and Prime Ministers, too ... not to mention the great strides we've made in the industry of pro-wrestling! :P) "In my day, women didn't have many options, just marriage and kids. But now ... what a wonderful time to be a woman! You can do or be anything you want, and without a man by your side," she gushes.
"You couldn't resist that one, huh?" Jen smiles, breaking up the Hallmark moment. Speaking of men, well, puppies, Ty shows up at that very minute, ready to go out for the evening with Jen. As they are about to leave, Grams gives Jen a look. "Okay," Jen sighs. "Go ahead ... I know you're dying to get it off your chest ..." "Have a nice time dear," Grams smiles, circumventing Jen's anticipated lecture, "Just ... don't stay out too late." (hey, she wouldn't be a (grand)mother if she didn't say it!) Hmm ... somehow, I don't think Grams has anything to worry about there, and I have the sneaking suspicion she knows it, too ...
Meanwhile, Dawson finds a very depressed-looking Pacey squatted down in a dark hallway inside the school. "You look terrible," he notes with concern. "I should," Pacey sighs. "I really kind of screwed up with Andie. I pushed too hard ... and she told me the element in her life that she can do without is me." "Did she mean it?" Dawson wonders. "Yeah, she meant it," Pacey replies sadly. "Then let her go. Really do it," Dawson suggests. "Don't just pay lip service to her." (I don't for a second think Dawson really means this, I think he's just still riled from his encounter with Joey)
"Like what you did with Joey?" Pacey asks pointedly, and Dawson nods. "I've been fooling myself, Pacey," he sighs. "But I think it's the only way to really get someone to come back to you." (Oh, really? This suggests that Dawson has had an ulterior motive for the aloof and apathetic way he's been acting towards Joey all this time -- that it was intentional, so she'd think he didn't care and come running back. Personally, I don't buy that. I think if anything, his ulterior motive for acting that way was to convince himself that he didn't care any more, and he didn't want her to come running back)
Pacey doesn't agree with him, either. "As textbook healthy as your letting go theory sounds," he offers sarcastically, "it doesn't apply to me. This isn't a case of teen love gone sour. I know what I want. I want Andie. And she's really hurting right now, and whether or not she knows it, she needs me. And I have absolutely no intention of letting her go." (If he were any sweeter, I'd go into insulin shock ... sigh ...)
Speaking of shock, Jen and Ty's little date is about to take a surprising twist down a very unexpected road. Jen asks if they can grab a bite to eat, to which Ty answers cryptically that there will be stuff to munch on at his friend Lloyd's place, where they are going. "He's having a get-together, and I told him we'd stop by," Ty tells her. Jen's face lights up. "Why didn't you say so? I'm always up for a good party!"
They walk for a bit, and approach a home which is oddly quiet for housing a teen party. No loud music, no half-naked people hanging out of bedroom windows, no beer cans on the lawn ... not a vomiting teenager in sight, actually. Jen and Ty enter, to find a group of quiet, conservatively-dressed teens sipping soft drinks and holding books in their hands. The Good Book, to be more specific. "Hey, Ty's here!" Lloyd calls out enthusiastically. "We can get started!" Ty mentions he's brought a friend, and introduces Jen to "everybody." Jen nods like she's in the Twilight Zone, and the group settles down to business.
"Last time, we stopped on the First Book of Kings ..." Lloyd instructs, and drones on about a particular passage from Chapter 9. Jen looks suitably horrified as Lloyd preaches about God's promise and warning. (Guess we better change the type of dog Tyson qualifies as from a Golden Lab to a Saint Bernard, huh? :) ) Hmm ... d'you think Grams knew about Ty's religious inclinations and maybe that's why she didn't make a big deal of Jen going out with him? So sneaky, that Grams!!
Over at the McPhee residence, Andie answers her door to find Pacey waiting with a single red rose in his hand. (a waaay overused cliche, but sweet nevertheless) "Go away, Pacey," she snarls irritably, and slams the door shut. Ever the persistent one, he rings again and she snaps at him that she's ignoring him. (How can she do that? How? How could any girl, in her right mind, ignore -- wait, I just answered my own question. Never mind.) Discouraged but undaunted, Pacey goes around to the side of the McPhee home and eyes a trellis leading up to Andie's room.
It's a classic Romeo & Juliet scene, and one he manages to almost screw up by losing his footing on the trellis and slipping. "Are you nuts?" Andie says in mock-anger -- after all, how can you stay angry with someone as adorable as that? "What are you doing?" she demands, and is presented with a rose for her trouble. "For the lady," Pacey gestures. "I don't believe you," Andie shakes her head in amazement. "Is this your way of staying away?"
"You need me, McPhee," he pleads. "Come on, who else is gonna --" Before he can finish his train of thought, though, he slips and teeters precariously on the edge of the trellis. "It's just one shove and a long way down," Andie smirks. "Then I'll just have to climb back up," Pacey grins. And with that, he not only climbs back up, but through the window in his best Joey imitation, and perches happily on her bed.
"You're acting like a psycho," Andie (hypocritically) tells him. "And the last thing I need in my life is another crazy person, so go home, okay?" But he's adamant, he isn't going anywhere. "I'm not going to let you push me away," he counters. "I'm a charter member of the Andie McPhee Fan Club, and as a matter of policy, our adulation never wavers, through the good times and the bad." (Hmph ... sounds like a watered-down version of a wedding vow to me)
He's got her now, how can she argue with something (and someone) as precious as that? "I just ... I want to feel better," Andie sighs. "I know," Pacey answers gently. "I can help you, and I'm not going to turn away from you ... not after all you've done for me, and certainly not when you need me the most. We can do this together ... I know that I can help you," he pleads.
Defeated, Andie sighs. She's utterly worn out, not only from the argument with Pacey, but from her constantly yo-yoing emotions in relation to the bigger picture of her life (boy, do I know how that feels). "Pacey," she begins wearily, "How do you know that you can help?" In her own mind, the situation is beyond help, beyond repair, but Pacey's got the only solution that matters.
"Because, Andie," he says, amazed that she doesn't already know the answer, "I love you." It's as simple as that. He's in it for the long haul, no matter how bumpy the road ahead may be. They'll just take it one bump at a time. "I love you too," she whispers, and he gives her a very gentle kiss.
Back on the school campus movie set, it's dark, everyone's gone home, and Dawson is puttering around, noodling with this and that. (yes, noodling. It's my summary, and I can use any damn verb I want!) Devon approaches him, asking if he wants to join her and Chris for a late dinner, but he declines. (I didn't think it would take Chris long to sink his hooks into Devon, but I bet he's in for a surprise)
"You impressed me today," Devon announces. "It's interesting ... you made such an effort to make the script so precisely match reality, and then you changed the ending. My psych professor --" But Dawson isn't interested in hearing what Devon's teacher has to say, in fact, he thinks he can sum it all up: "I should probably give up all hope of a past that works in the future," he states glumly.
Devon tells him she thinks he has real potential as a director, and he thanks her for the compliment. She extends a second offer to join Chris and her for a bite to eat, but Dawson says no again. "Another time, I'll definitely take you up on that, but tonight, I just want to be ... here." He wants to wallow, and Devon has sense enough to respect that. She bids him a good night and joins Chris the letch for a food run.
Having disposed of the pseudo-Joey and her male companion, Dawson must now deal with the real thing. On the school campus, Joey and he circle around each other tentatively (he's probably hesitant because of the godawful outfit she has on ... what the hell were the wardrobe people thinking? She looks like she just woke up!), until he decides to speak. "About earlier --"
"Yeah," Joey interrupts. "I'm very sorry that I came down on you so hard. It was unfair. It's just that it's been really hard watching my life be reenacted in front of half of Capeside." Dawson nods, then apologizes if he's perhaps offended or hurt her by filming it in any way. "I thought by making an autobiographical, cathartic movie, I could put the past behind me in one fell swoop." "If only things could be that simple," says Joey wistfully.
"You know what it is?" Dawson offers. "I spent the last few months of my existence trying to figure out how to be without you. I tried acting like it doesn't hurt and I didn't care. I guess I thought if I acted like I was over you, then somehow I would be. The truth is, most of the time, all I wanted to do was to crawl into my room with my best friend, shut the blinds and pour my heart out to her." (Okay, he's closing in on Pacey in the How-Adorable-Was-That? category right about here)
Joey finally admits the past little while hasn't been all sunshine and roses for her, either. "Dawson, I don't think you realise it has been just as difficult for me. It's been tearing me apart, too," she sighs. (Well yeah, but I have little sympathy for her -- she created the damn situation in the first place!) "I know we'll always be connected," she tells him. "Our lives are destined to be intertwined, but (always, there's a but, sigh ...) ... Dawson, we have to move on." (um, hello? Tell me exactly why you have to do that again, other than to drag out the plot for the sake of ratings? Hmph, I guess that rumoured Valentine's Day getting-back-together thing is just not gonna happen) Sadly, Dawson agrees, but as we all know, it ain't over yet, not by a long shot. (Not until the fat lady sings ... or the skinny boy comes out of the closet, take your pick)
Speaking of, Jack chooses that exact moment to come over and interrupt, asking Joey if she's ready to go yet. In a move which probably killed him inside, Dawson thanks him for helping out. In an equally big move, Jack not only thanks him, but offers to stay with Joey and help Dawson finish cleaning up right then. But the three of them, side-by-side-by-side is a bit too much too soon for Dawson to handle, so he declines, urging them to go ahead and have a good time. After a moment or two of hesitation, they leave, as Dawson stares after them, then slowly walks away in the opposite direction.
Fade to black ...