Apr 9, 2018
'American Horror Story: Coven' Recap -- The Most Dangerous Game
Chattahoochee National Forest, 1991. A dude is camping with a boy who’s maybe 11, maybe 9. For molesting? Seems molesty. Oh, the little boy does not want to kill things, weird. So it is just some father-son-bonding animal murder, not son rape, that is good! Whew!
Oh except they are not hunting animals they are hunting witches, and as the father shouts “PUT HER DOWN” and the little boy hesitates and fumphers, the witch finally spews some fire his way after all her pitiful cries of “have mercy,” and the father hugs his little boy to him, after rolling him out of the CGI flames, and says, deep-thoughts-style, “never forget what they are.”
Targets, apparently! For shooty fun!
Witches are the most dangerous game.
We’re back at Mme. Laveau’s Happy House of Happy Hairdos, and she’s smiling and rubbing a lady’s temples. She’s always so kind to her customers — more than kind. Giving. Generous. She hasn’t once had to chop off any one of their hands. Of course Fiona shows up to be a dick, with her box full of Kathy Bates’s head.
“I got six more heads waiting for me up front,” Madame Laveau says to Fiona. “This one you can keep.”
Fiona hasn’t come looking for a truce — her head in a box being some odd kind of tribute? — but an alliance. Your tribe, my coven. “Are you insane?” says LaLaurie (Kathy Bates) from inside the box. “What the head said!” says Laveau.
Fiona ballgags LaLaurie with a wad of paper, as you do with your pet head in a box.
Fiona has found a silver bullet outside the academy: WITCH HUNTERS! How many dead? asks Laveau. None dead, Fiona answers. Laveau hmmms and too bads. BECAUSE SHE SENT THE WITCH HUNTER, YOU GUYS. But she doesn’t say that. She just raises a brow and explains, “Witch hunters is white women’s worry.” Oh, that is what YOU think, Marie Laveau!
Fiona and Laveau spit some fire at each other, all curled lip and narrowed eye. “Come down here cuz you’re weak, can’t protect your own, expect me to do it for you,” Laveau sneers, before ordering Queenie (remember, she’s voodoo now) to take “this filthy thing” (the head in a box, not Fiona) “and burn it.” Kathy Bates is sooooo happy to hear that you guys. Free at last! Free at last! You get the idea, but it is Mme. LaLaurie, so “free at last” with a side of SUPER RACISM.
Cordy is in the kitchen, breaking all the eggs. Myrtle (Frances Conroy) is there to help, but Cordy does not want help, she is like the ungrateful old lady in the New York Times.
And we flashback to Tween Baby Cordy asking Myrtle on her first day at the Young Lady Witches Academy “will you be my mother now?” because of how that is totally a thing that tweens say. Tween Cordy is as bad an actress as Zoe and Madison.
Myrtle would pluck out her own eyes and give them to Cordy, she moans, which seems like a thing a witch can do? Why doesn’t she just do it? OH RIGHT WE WILL FIND OUT LATER.
Hank is talking to a handsome black guy about witch hunting, in some rich-wood-paneled mansion in Atlanta, Georgai. I am having trouble following, I should probably get high, brb. Oh it’s a witch hunting corporation, as you have. We are informed they had a flareup in a coven in Europe. Probably fucking Gypsies man.
OK, Hank is NOT actually working for Marie Laveau, he works for this bizarre American Patriarchy Witch-Killing Corporation, and he had a “plan” to take down Laveau just as soon as he’d finished the academy. Maybe Fiona is right after all, maybe they do need each other, HENGHHHHH Marie Laveau???
He’s supposed to be getting intel, not killing witches and making deals with Laveau, his mad dad explainers. OK, Hank is a fucking idiot. He got rid of the redhead in a hotel he used a credit card for? Like, that is some serious Florida shit. The desk clerk and a maid had to get killed to cover it up. 🙁
Handsome black dude some Expositing: you need to know your father is not just the president of the Corporation, he’s also CEO of a major financial institution, and “liberals in Washington” would love to get their hands on the records and investigate. Hahahahahahaha, “liberals” “investigating” via the “SEC.” That is the funniest thing that has ever happened in this show, and this show is hilarious.
We get a reveal: they’re the ones who blinded Cordelia, “to make sure she needed you.” Lame, Witchhunters. You’re mad at him, but you gave her Second Sight allowing her to see his murders, COME ON.
You guys are like the worst Holy Warriors ever, how did you ever even get rich?
Oh here’s a speech about “pestulence” of witches on North America and their sacred war. Ooooh ooooh oooh I bet Hank’s dad “put down” his own witch wife, mother of Hank, for the “sacred war.” Yeah, this makes way fucking more sense high.
Myrtle has scooped some melon balls for her co-councillors at supper, they look classy and refreshing.
Myrtle is wearing a white satin dress, a wide braided red belt, long black lace gloves, white cat glasses and the most gigantic hair. I bet they paid a thousand dollars for that fabulous outfit.
The council wants to know about Misty Day’s magical mud for use as a high-end skin care item. Myrtle is not having it. “You missed the point darling,” she purrs at Quentin Crisp. “The swamp mud is a metaphor, her metaphor. She’s a sophisticated witch with extraordinary gifts hiding out as a hippie swamp rat. … Power, compassion, and uniqueness and we are lucky to have found her and she us.”
They toast, except whoops Myrtle has murdered them. As one does. It never does seem very permanent in this house though. Oh, human statue syndrome, of course! “It’s supposed to be quite terrifying, is it?” she asks wide-eyed. “Are you terrified, you should be! At any rate, I’m not going to kill you. Maybe after dessert. I did put a lot of effort into the key lime pie.” And then she cries and yells at them and berates them. You fucking tell me this show isn’t going to be a three-way race for a Nobel Prize Of Acting between Angela Bassett, Jessica Lange, and Frances Conroy, with Madison and Zoe burned in a fire, oh god please.
OK, that melonballer was fucking NOT ACCEPTABLE SHOW.
Well, guess witches can do magic eyeball surgery pretty good-like once they finally get a “donor.”
Fiona comes home to see Cordy with her sight back. It couldn’t have been Myrtle who did the magic, she says: she’s not “witch enough” to pull off something that delicate. Oh, but Fiona is mistaken, Myrtle assures her. She’s more a witch now than she ever was, with Fiona to thank. “Being burned at the stake was an empowering experience. There are secrets in the flames!”
The two circle each other like FUCKING FRANCES CONROY AND JESSICA LANGE, actually circling, cawing, baring their teeth. They never raise a voice, they always smile, neither will ever admit to a care in the world, what, you old thing?, oh how in control of themselves they are until the inevitable moment when they cry and shriek and lose their shit because they’re crazy witches, not to mention THE GREATEST ACTRESSES IN THE WORLD.
“I could have you exiled,” Fiona spits. “To Paramus! New Jersey!” Oh how is she gonna do that, by calling the council? Oh no she won’t because they got made into leg stew. Myrtle hears they’re not seeing anyone right now.
With her new eyeballs, Cordy has lost her second sight. How did they not “see” that one coming???
Oh good, Zoe and Madison. Well at least Nan is here to take my mind off the girls’ terrible black witch hats. The costume director must hate them as much as I do. Hi Nan! You are a better actress than Taissa Farmiga and Emma Roberts put together, and also you’re not a dick. You may stay.
I can’t get into Patti Lupone. I know, I know, “she’s Patti Lupone.” But her character is really boring no matter how many toilet-cleanser enemas she gives her hot son, and her singing a hymn isn’t making it better, Patti Lupone or not. NO NOBEL PRIZE OF ACTING FOR YOU, PATTI LUPONE.
Oh ok now she loves Mind Reader Nan, so I guess we are supposed to like her. No thank you.
Queenie did not burn LaLaurie’s head. She is making it watch Roots instead.
Hank is eating Chinese food, and it does not go well for him. Laveau nails him to the floor with magic, stigmata style?
Cordy and Misty are haveing a potions lesson. Cordy is a good teacher, encouraging, not envious of Misty’s more powerful self. It’s really nice! (It’s also nice to get Misty Day back up in here. You forget how much you miss her until she’s there.)
Ok so some stuff with Hank happens, who cares, oh wait Cordy does not have Second Sight any more but she still can SMELL a RAT!!! (Get it?) She’s all, get the fuck out, stinky ratbitch, and he is all like “sadface.”
Then Kyle is there and he eats Fiona’s German shepherd guard dog. Hey, it happens.
So the kid next door (Nan’s boyfriend, Patti Lupone’s son) is in his coma from getting shot by the witchhunter (after his toilet cleanser enema; kid really had a day!) and God tells him that Patti Lupone murdered her husband because he was leaving him for the secretary we get to see giving him the blowjob. Why would God show the kid that, precisely? Well, we don’t know, but he tells Nan through his coma mind. But Misty raised Patti Lupone from the dead, why didn’t she raise Kyle from his coma? Sometimes this show does not have great internal logic.
These scenes aren’t that great, but at least Zoe and Madison aren’t in them.
Oh who would have known Patti Lupone isn’t at all nice about having her murder revealed to her.
Did you want to see Zoe and Madison? Good because here they are in their stupid fucking hats. Fiona is gambling with Kyle, who can now gamble and talk right. “I took the liberty of sprucing up your boy just a touch,” she drawls. Man, those girls were really bad at witching.
He is the new guard dog, one who’ll attack on command. Since he ate the other one. It’s only fair.
LaLurie did not watch roots, so now she has to listen to negro spirituals. Oh yeah, that’ll fix her. I hate the Kathy Bates scenes maybe even more than the Zoe and Madison ones? They’re so broad! There’s nothing sinister about her, there’s no danger, like there is with Fiona and Marie Laveau. She’s just a hollerin’ buffoon. She will probably get the Emmy, because they are wrong.
And here is Hank to genocide Laveau’s house of hair voodoo, but at the last moment Queenie human voodoo-dolls herself with a bullet to the brain, and Hank cannot kill the beautiful Laveau, whose face registers almost every emotion in 4 seconds or so, all except for “acceptance.” Which is good because she is still alive to war with and ultimately ally with Fiona, until their ultimate duel of each other TO THE DEATH. (Just guessing. What do you think?)
Patti Lupone murders her son with a pillow, duh, like you did not see that coming, as “to be freeeeeee” ends the negro spiritual music, which even Bates was like “oh I am changed now,” because she saw some Selma protesters get hoses turned on them, which we guess is worse than turning them into minotaurs and shitting in their mouths Sarah Palin-style, so that was easy.
And here is Laveau on the doorstep, and Fiona nods her in, and each of their faces conveys perfect enmity and disrespect warring with grudging respect, if only for the danger the other poses. And the Nobel Prize of Acting race triangle just heated right the fuck up.