This Is Us Season 4, Episode 5
“Storybook Love”
Posted by Shannon
Moving is the worst. Everything is out of place, boxes seem to multiply on their own no matter how much you unpack, and on top of all the logistical nightmares, there’s the pressure of feeling like this moment of transition must be honored as a new start. For those of us who’ve had to move a lot in their lives, or for those moving under particularly traumatic conditions like some of our Pearson clan this week, it’s especially tenuous. The first big meal in a new place carries weight, for better or worse. The structure of this week’s episode focuses on all the different stages of a dinner party in just those conditions, and while the thematic connection doesn’t hold quite as firm as in episodes past, there’s still enough of a spine to carry us through.
Rebecca
The main throughline comes to us via Rebecca, who’s finally moved herself and her daughter into a more permanent home. They’ve been in the new house for a month, and while they both still occasionally wake up feeling like they can’t remember where they are, the place is relatively settled. It’s unclear if this dinner party is honoring the move, Kevin’s elopement, or both, but it’s certainly the first time the family has been together in a minute. There are a few, small touches settling us into life with the Pearsons at this particular juncture. Rebecca and Randall aren’t interested in fighting with Kevin about his wedding. Kate is left to feel like the lone voice of sanity; of course she’s upset that her twin got married without a word to her, and it was careless of her family not to register that. Miguel has been turning up on the regular, talking down realtors, fixing gutters and bringing fancy wine. Rebecca is just doing all she can to hold it together, routinely fighting off memories of the first meal in her old house with Jack.
The flashbacks to Jack and Rebecca in this episode are so perfectly old school. They’re charming and messy and filled with burnt lasagna and missing table legs, and it all reminded me just how peaceful those scenes with them used to feel in the earlier seasons. There’s a natural distance to those sequences now; they all have a tinge of sadness, of separation, of nostalgia for days gone by. It all folds into Mandy Moore’s performance during this timeline in particular: she gets such a specific, tired, faraway look in her eye when she’s remembering those years with Jack that I can’t help feeling the same.
The Big Three don’t quite have that same permanent emotional heft with them. It’s not to say they’re not mourning; of course they are. But Randall is more concerned about his mother’s emotional state than his own, while his brother and sister are going full escapist in their own different ways. It’s painfully clear in Beth’s housewarming gift of hot sauce, which sends the whole family into a silent tailspin as they remember their patriarch’s love of the stuff. This sequence reminded me so much of what Carol said to Beth a month before; the Pearsons have not moved through this loss as fully as they need to, certainly not yet. Beth’s gift had her own story and association with her father, and she speaks of him with a lightness and grace that alludes the Pearson clan in their memories of Jack. He’s haunting their every move, their every sentence – not because of his own behavior, but because of theirs. And it’s happening whether they’d cop to it or not.
Take, for example, Kevin and Sophie. The story these two offer as the reason they decided to get married and start entering every building as if it was their own personal threshold is frankly nonsensical. A bracelet seller, a movie theater, and a church bell are not even signs Jack Pearson could have gotten behind. It’s SO obvious that Kevin is acting out of mourning and selfishness, that he’s ignoring his emotions and throwing himself into a new family structure, and Sophie is going along with it because…well who knows why. I’m not saying they don’t love each other, but come on. Not even Randall can keep excusing this behavior.
It’s been a minute since Rebecca had a good and proper snap. I for one absolutely loved this scene; a woman can only take so many polaroids of her 18-year-old son’s impromptu wedding before she loses her shit. And I loved the moments that preceded it, though I wish we’d dug a little deeper to the Big Three’s emotional state at this moment. I’m curious about why no one liked or trusted Mark (“We didn’t need to try it to know we didn’t like it. Mark is escargot.”), though a moment later in the hour proves that their instincts are better than mine – and for the record the age difference flew right over my head, I never would have guessed he was supposed to be a full five years older than Kate. Kevin gets out of not telling Kate about his wedding relatively scot free, considering the range of emotionally valid interpretations that “I’m supposed to be your person!” carried. I could see Kate of ANY age, from teen years through to adulthood, bitingly stating that the only problem with Beth is that she’s too perfect. And I loved the cut to Miguel, Beth, Sophie and Mark sharing the table without the Pearson clan to unify them – it’s especially poignant for Miguel and Beth, who’ll share versions of this moment for decades to come.
Miguel is the only person who could have talked Rebecca down in this moment. I’m grateful he’s here, though like Kate I have a lot of questions – and I can’t help but wish for the millionth time that she could have a slightly less charged friend around to keep her company and talk her through. Still, he does the job admirably, assuring her that better years will come for her and her kids. It’s enough to refocus Rebecca, reminding her of how that first dinner ended years ago with Jack – an interloping bird swooping in to ruin the whole thing after an afternoon of errors, locking them into the present, refusing to be ignored. Her over and undercooked cornish hens don’t have quite the same dramatic impact, but the lesson is the same. They HAVE to be in the moment, appreciate where they are, and remember Jack not just with sorrow but with joy, in any way they can.
Randall and Beth
While the ongoing pressures of the move to Philly haven’t been a strong focus this season, there are plenty of smaller moments of impact speaking to the way those stresses have snuck into daily life. For Tess and Randall, it’s especially noteworthy. I talk a lot about the similarities between Randall and Deja, but Randall and Tess share so much in temperament. Tess has a quiet focus to her – she’s spent years holding things down in her parent’s house as an unflappable, reliable, centered child. She’s had the occasional outburst, but on the whole she’s steady, a seemingly perfect mix of her father’s dependability and her mother’s mettle. (Sound familiar?) Considering Annie’s age and the number of moves already under Deja’s belt, it makes sense for Tess to be the Pearson child who feels this move the deepest, even separate from her desire to come out in a new environment.
And feel it she does. Tess is multitasking over breakfast to a degree we haven’t seen under this roof since Randall’s weather trading days. She’s doing it for the same reasons Randall did, too; she’s hiding in her work, refusing to let a single ball drop for fear that the whole thing will come crashing down. Tess hasn’t shown any signs – to our knowledge – of struggling with anxiety and panic attacks before now. But as I’ve said – it makes perfect sense for THIS to be the time it finally becomes insurmountable. She has put herself under a massive amount of pressure, and so she snaps in the middle of a school day, prompting Randall to leave the office and come get her.
It’s been a minute since we’ve seen Randall quite so unsettled. His attempts to connect with Tess, to assure her that he struggles with the same thing, felt panicked and nervous and so much more about him than his daughter. Combined with his incessantly bouncing knee and impromptu 10 mile run that morning, it’s more than a little infuriating to hear him say things like “I won’t even know that I’m feeling that way and then it just catches up with me all of a sudden” without a single solitary ounce of self awareness. He’s been here before; hell, we’ve seen him here before. There’s no way his refusal to acknowledge the status of his own own mental health will end well.
Beth knows the signs. She always does. And the last time things ended up this bad for her husband’s anxiety, William was there to keep her company and talk her through. The two men echo each other almost exactly; anxiety and depression are not family traits anyone is thrilled to pass down to the next generation, but these two are both so particularly gentle of spirit, so attuned to the difficulties of the outside world, that they couldn’t bear to pass yet another struggle down the genetic line. With that familial context by her side, and a deep and abiding love for her husband and daughter, Beth insists the two sit down and acknowledge their shared traits. Beth and William got so close so fast because they, too, shared an identical temperament. She practically channels William’s determination, grace and thoughtfulness, and I could almost hear him share her insistence on a baseline of familial respect. (“I will not have you talking ill about three of my most favorite people in the world, no way, no how. Are you hearing me?”)
Tess has a wonderful support system and a strong sense of self; when you add in a solid therapist to help her navigate her identity in a new community, I have no doubt that she’s gonna be just fine. Beth is an exceptional mom on the regular, and her finding that last piece of the puzzle for her daughter put her over the top. She’s an exceptional person on the whole; and she knows, now and for years since, that her husband needs a therapist too.
Which brings us to my rampage of the week. Anyone who’s been reading along with my recaps knows that one of my common refrains (along with how everyone needs more friends) is that every single solitary member of the Pearson family needs to be in therapy. In the present, in the past, and in the future. Regardless of their current mental state, or their struggles with addition, or their difficulties in relationships. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Needs to be in therapy. Because here’s the thing – BASICALLY EVERYONE NEEDS TO BE IN THERAPY. Not forever, or even for more than a session here and there – but mental health and emotional upkeep is important for every single human. Because every single human is going through some shit that needs to be discussed with a person who is both trained and apart. Obviously not everyone has this privilege; therapists in suburban and rural areas can be hard or impossible to find, and the cost – with or without insurance – can be absolutely outrageous. But all those things being equal, it’s my FIRM belief that the right therapist is a life changer no matter WHAT stage of life or mental health you find yourself in. There is no bar of anxiety or depression that must be crossed to “qualify” for therapy. And frankly Randall should know better than to dismiss this out of hand. His comment to Beth that he appreciates her concern is condescending and flat out irresponsible. I’m shocked that none of his past breakdowns have resulted in him finding and sticking with a decent therapist, at least for a time – and unless there’s a story here that we’ve yet to see, Randall’s refusal is childish and obtuse. Come on, man. Be better.
Kevin
Kate’s got a lot going on over on the west coast, what with brothers who are insisting on surprising her with some type of special delivery without a word as to what kind of gift they’re giving her. The last thing she needed was to start worrying about her twin after he went rogue and bought a trailer in Pennsylvania. Despite his regular relocation habits, Kevin’s move is no less intense than the others, especially considering his new neighbor. Nicky did not ask for this and he’s not particularly thrilled about it either; his regular, reliable solitude has been interrupted by a chatty nephew on the hunt for stories about his dad’s upbringing. Nicky’s especially unimpressed by Kevin’s insistence that they both branch out and find a friend in Cassidy; the two have promised to support her and Matty at a hockey game honoring vets. Cassidy’s estranged husband Ryan is in attendance too, though he’s really just there to drop off their son and check out the adult man who’s suddenly best friends with their kid.
I had a thought last week, though I didn’t expand upon it. That thought is as follows: I suspect Cassidy’s ex is kind of a jackass. The way he strung out his proposal didn’t sit well with me, and his behavior at the game didn’t do him any favors. Kevin is clearly offended when Ryan spends the entire ceremony on his phone, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, much less Cassidy herself. His explanation later on, that he couldn’t bear to be a part of a ceremony celebrating the thing that “broke my favorite person” is fine enough on its face, but I bristled at his declaration that the last thing his son needed to see was him crying in the stands. How exactly is it better for his son to see his father willfully ignoring something that his mom is proud of? How is it better for him to refuse to embrace his own emotional reaction, modeling behavior for this young boy that promotes the bullshit, toxic insistence that men shut it all down rather than weep in public? And while Ryan’s defensiveness at Kevin hanging out with Cassidy and Matty is understandable enough, it grated me too, as yet another example of some patriarchal insistence that his wife should not hang out with another man – much less an attractive actor. I just don’t like it all around, and neither Cassidy or Matty should have to put up with this.
Nicky, though? Nicky is pulling through. The hockey game was a tough environment for him; not just because of the steady supply of beer rattling around through the stands, but because the sudden noises of a hockey stick slapping a puck are way too close to gunshots. His PTSD is rampant, and that’s before you add in the veteran factor around the whole event. (“It’s not like it’s a concert we all went to, Kevin.”) But he handles it, and he handles it WELL. Nicky takes himself out of the situation, insists on staying alone, and keeps his sobriety in spite of the many, many triggers he’s just dodged. And he even does one better. Despite his declaration to Kevin that “I’m not a storyteller, and I don’t like people,” he shares a story with Kevin about his and Jack’s upbringing; one of the only good memories he could share of Kevin’s grandfather. It’s a bookmark to the top of the hour; these two are sharing a meal in a new space, and forging ahead – together, as best they can.
Colors of the Painting
- As for that gift Kate was waiting for from her brothers? It’s the family piano. As Toby says, “the Pearson men nail another grand gesture.”
- That piano brings with it a number of memories, good and bad; polaroids from that first dinner in the new house are hiding in the bench underneath some sheet music, and a photo of Kate and Mark set both her and Rebecca off into a daze. Whatever happened with these two must have been real bad and I do not like it.
- Randall and Beth had their talk with Deja about Malik off-screen, and to be honest I’m a little surprised at how low key Deja’s reaction was. Still – I’m sure this isn’t the last we’ve heard of it.
- We know from last season that Miguel and Rebecca marry much later in life, only reconnecting after Tess is born. So I can’t help but wonder – why exactly does he move away? And when? All signs point to him becoming dangerously close to Rebecca in the immediate months and years after Jack’s death, and with the focus this season narrowing on just that time frame, I suspect we’ll find out sooner rather than later.
- It’s a tiny moment, but Randall’s fellow councilman is CLEARLY pissed at being dismissed yet again, even over a family emergency. Randall and Jae-won mean well, but they really need to be better about making allies in the halls of city council if they want to stick around, and this does not bode well.
What did you think of “Storybook Love”? Let us know in the comments.
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