This Is Us Season 6, Episode 3
“Four Fathers”
Posted by Shannon
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At first glance, this hour seems to be all about fathers and their failures, perceived or real. That’s certainly what the episode title leads us to believe, and it is present in each of the main storylines. But on second viewing, that initial concept gave way to something much more abstract, thoughtful, and porous: what is it that steers our memories, and what do we do with them once they’re locked in? How much do those memories impact our daily lives, and how much can a well-intentioned parent ever truly direct or divert thoughts of early childhood? It’s an interesting and unanswerable question, and it’s at the heart of every decision made by our four fathers this hour – for better or for worse.
Jack and Rebecca
The whole of my thesis is wrapped up in the Jack storyline. After weeks of coming home too late for bedtime and leaving again before breakfast, Jack is feeling like a version of a father he swore he’d never become. (Kate asking Jack if he’s “gonna live at work forever” was a little on the nose, but it certainly underlined the point.) Because it’s Jack Pearson we’re talking about, he’s already got a plan in mind to make it up to the Big Three: their first movie theater day. It’s all fun and games and popcorn until Jack falls asleep mid-movie and Kevin takes off to wander the adjoining mall because he’s bored.
This whole plotline is pretty simplistic, which is what makes it the perfect set piece to the larger questions I mentioned at the top. Kevin is never in any real danger. He gets picked up by a mall cop almost immediately, and the phone number written in his shoe means Rebecca makes it to the office even before Jack. Randall and Kate are unphased. But Jack is horrified by his own behavior and, more pressingly, by their implications on his son’s memories. (“Now every time Kevin thinks about that first movie he saw, he’s just gonna think about a day he was traumatized.”) It’s a faulty premise for so many reasons. Jack and Rebecca can’t truly control how their kids will remember any given day. They could share a beautiful afternoon, and one of the kids could fixate on something small and terrible that none of them knew happened. Or a ladybug could land on the dash and erase the memories of the whole family yelling and crying on a park trip. Parents can help guide and support their children’s memories, but they cannot be controlled. Rebecca’s comment about never knowing what you’ll remember about a day until it’s over cuts both ways.
Jack may have saved the day in the eyes of his kids by renting a bunch of VHS tapes, throwing some pillows on the floor and turning a failed movie afternoon into a delightful movie evening. But once he and Rebecca settle in for the night, Jack gets a call that reshapes his own memory of the day; his mother has died unexpectedly.
Randall and Beth
With all the focus on Randall’s personal history last season, it feels like ages since we’ve had a good storyline focusing on him and one of the girls. Randall and Deja have one of the most unique parent/child relationships on the show, and I didn’t know how much I missed them together until we opened the hour with Randall’s unbridled delight at the mere idea of teaching his eldest how to drive.
Of course, that all comes to a screeching halt once Deja’s phone blows up her spot. (An aside: I’m all for hands-free phone activity while driving, but what kind of maniac keeps their car settings to automatically read out text messages?! Randall! My man! This is half your fault!)
The mood shift in the car is dramatic. Randall presumably hit the roof and turned the whole operation back around, because the next time we see him, he’s going apoplectic at Beth and loudly threatening to ground every single child in his house to “get ahead of it.” The whole sequence is equal parts hilarious and endearingly rough, with Beth regaining her composure after they decide “which one of us is going to unravel here and which one of us is going to stay cool.” (“I’m already pacing, Beth, I’m up!”)
Pitch-perfect line readings aside, my favorite thing about this scene is Randall’s management of his own anxiety spiral. He knows he’s hit a point of no return, and rather than say something he’ll regret or let the tension build up inside of him until he combusts about something else entirely, he goes out for an evening run to get all the frustrations out. Early Randall wouldn’t have had this level of self-awareness, or the ability to call on a coping mechanism so early in a meltdown. He’s come so far and I’m so proud of his evolution.
A close second favorite thing is Beth’s reaction – and the choice not to film the conversation she and Deja have while Randall’s out for his run. I really love that we don’t see this dialogue; just Beth sitting on Deja’s bed, with her hand gently sitting on her daughter’s ankle. Whatever their conversation was, it results in Beth truly understanding the situation at hand and re-prioritizing their response. It’s time for Deja to get on birth control: and it’s time for Beth and Randall to accept that their eldest is growing up, and that her relationship with Malik is as real as their young college love once was.
I think a part of Randall has known this for longer than he lets on. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have taken Malik under his wing quite as much as he did, or opened the door to such vulnerable conversations. Randall knows both Malik and Deja are great kids who genuinely care for each other, and he knows they’re navigating shit at a different level than he did when he was their age. But Deja is still his kid, and she still looks “exactly like the little girl who came to my doorstep with everything she had in the world tucked into one bag.” His reaction was warranted, even though he owed her an apology. And while Randall’s got to be patient with himself and with Deja as the family navigates her evolution into adulthood, he’s also right to say that there has to be some semblance of consequences for her sneaking off to Boston. There’s no easy resolution here; and it just gets more complex once Deja makes it known that she will not abide being told she can’t go back to Boston anytime soon.
Lyric Ross has been holding her own against Sterling K. Brown in challenging scenes for years, but I was so struck by her subtle shift at the end of this conversation. Deja is just as emotional as Randall, and she’s just as stubborn. They both know that about the other, too. We see it all play out in their conversation. Now we just have to wait and see what kind of negotiation they land on.
Kevin
Even though Kevin’s moved out of Madison’s house (and into Kate and Toby’s, apparently), he’s still keeping the same kind of energy he had when he lived in her garage. Every morning, Kevin shows up with coffee for Madison to say hello to the twins before heading to rehearsal. And very likely, he’s swinging by more than we see. It’s sweet, and well intentioned, and clearly heading for disaster in the same way living in the garage was.
We know where this is all coming from. All Kevin wants to do is be a part of the twin’s lives, as much as possible, in every possible way. It’s why he took the Manny reboot and is currently suffering through fake plastic babies and dismissive directors, emoting at the creepy eyes of twin dolls instead of his actual children. But the thing is, even if Kevin weren’t suffering through what looks to be a totally embarrassing reboot of an already embarrassing sitcom, he still wouldn’t be spending all day with Nicky and Franny. That’s not the reality of the relationship he has with Madison right now.
I’m struck by how much Kevin is still trying, intentionally or otherwise, to channel his father in his daily life. Dropping everything and running from after show drinks with a cast at least a decade and a half younger than him to try to make it to Franny for her first steps – unannounced and uninvited! – positively screams youthful Jack Pearson. And not the endearing, big-speech version; the one that couldn’t see past his own intention to know when he was intruding or making unfair assumptions. For Kevin to just appear and declare “I came to see Franny walk” assumes Madison had nothing else to do, or at the very least would be ready and happy to see him show up at any given moment. Well intentions do not erase carelessness. So while my heart broke for Kevin here, it broke just as much for Madison, and the massive workload she’s shouldering alone while Kevin swoops in as time allows.
Clearly, none of this is sustainable. It’s not fair to Madison, and all Kevin’s doing is destroying himself. He needs a complete mindset shift. Enter the underdog light of my life, Toby Damon. The speech he gives Kevin this hour is beautiful, and rivals the best pep talk speeches the show has had. Kevin’s still reeling emotionally from the fact that he and Madison are not, in fact, married, and no flash-forward can make that recovery any faster for him in the present moment. It’s normal for this adjustment to take time. Kevin has still thought about his family as a box (“Me, Madison, two kids. Square. Solid unit.”) and has yet to shift his expectations from the fallout of the canceled wedding. Every decision he’s made thus far has been made in an effort to keep to the plan, even after the plan got thrown out the window. Which is what makes Toby’s advice so prescient. (“Maybe you should just stop thinking of your family as a square, and start thinking about it as you, Nick, Franny. Triangle.”)
While Kevin still has a lot of adjustments to make, something about this conversation struck home with him. I’d like to think it’s the part where he admitted to Toby that he’s not happy. That this version of his life, this poorly constructed scaffolding, cannot stand. And that he can’t fall back into old habits by sleeping with his 25 year old co-star.
So he calls Cassidy instead.
Kate and Toby
I dunno, folks. I continue to be very bummed out by the slow march to disaster that is Kate and Toby this season. I stand by everything I’ve said about them to date; divorce does not erase the journey they’ve been on together, both Kate and Toby are better people now than they were when they met, and knowing how it ends doesn’t change any of that. But maybe what’s grating on me now is that we’re not learning anything new about their characters. At least, not yet.
We know Toby’s miserable schlepping back and forth from San Francisco to LA, but significantly less miserable than when he was a stay at home dad. We know Kate hates him being gone and is trying to make the best of it. We know messing with seemingly ever-changing nap schedules is bad news bears, and that Toby bringing everyone gifts each time he comes home is much more about his own guilt than it is anything else. It all just feels so rote; none of this part of the hour surprised me, or made any of these people more interesting. And I’m including Philip and his hand towel story in that assessment. I’m not sure what I want from this part of the show right now, but whatever it is, I’m not getting it.
What this storyline is lacking in character development it makes up for in plot, in the form of Jack Damon and a green egg smoker as old as he is. In an echo of the slow pan to the broken crock pot all the way back in season two, the bookends of this episode make direct mention to some sort of traumatic incident involving Jack as a toddler and this smoker. Physically or emotionally, something terrible is about to happen involving this smoker, baby Jack, Kate, and Toby. And whatever it is, it’s Jack’s first memory; in the form of a gesture from Toby to try to create good memories of the times he’s home from San Francisco.
There’s a paragraph in my favorite novel that came to mind as I worked through this whole impending smoker disaster. In the words of John Irving: “Your memory is a monster; you forget – it doesn’t. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you, and summons them to your recall with a will of its own.” Whatever memory Jack has of the big green egg, and whatever memories Toby intended to create — it’s out of their control. Jack can’t help when a specific smell comes up and brings him back to “the day your mom and dad’s marriage blew up.” And god knows, whatever is about to happen is not what Toby intended when he bought the smoker in an effort to make the best of the time the family has together. But the memory is a monster. “You think you have a memory; but it has you!”
Colors of the Painting
- I may have seemed chill about the return of Cassidy but please know how thrilled I am to see my girl Jennifer Morrison back on screen. Whether or not she and Kevin reignite any kind of romance is besides the point. I just want her to hang out with her cute new haircut and help build the cabin and give Nicky shit. Is this so much to ask??
- A word for Randall Pearson in his hot driving sunglasses. We see you, sir.
- “They found him crying outside of Spencer’s Gifts.”
- “Can we put her back in Zoom school?” “I feel like that’s kind of punishing ourselves.”
- Shout out to our very own Jon Huertas, who did a beautiful job directing this hour.
- This week’s music entry is extremely on the nose, but it’s also a great, classic track, so I’ll let it slide.
What are your thoughts on “Four Fathers”? Let us know in the comments
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