Ugly Betty Recap: Episode 211, "Zero Worship"

In one of the best-ever lines on Ugly Betty, Hilda once referred to the Mode offices as being “like a gay version of Star Trek.” Watching last night’s new episode, I thought she might be onto something. There was something very sci-fi about the way Marc managed to appear in so many scenes, as if he’d figured out a way to teleport into other characters’ storylines.

The extra dose of Marc - plus a Justin visit to Mode (more on that later) - made this one of the strongest episodes this season, a welcome relief after the recent creative slumpette and holiday hiatus.

The episode kicked off with Marc asking Wili to “turn around and bend over.” While Marc claimed this was something he never thought he’d say to a woman, I bet he says that to all the boys. He was in the midst of giving Wili hormone injections in preparation for her plan to propagate Bradford’s demon spawn, leading the dragon lady to act uncharacteristically “hormotional.” When Wili went digging through the freezer, I assumed she was searching for the half-pint of Bradford sperm she was keeping on ice (giving new meaning to the flavor "Cookies and Cream"), but she was merely on a hormone-induced binge.

While Marc, accustomed to giving Wili injections thanks to all the botox sessions, was fine with the hormone stuff, the more graphic elements of artificial insemination had him visibly grossed out. His expressions of nausea and disgust while overhearing Wili with her doctor were priceless, especially when Wili interrupted their cell phone call to bark at her doctor, “What is the hold-up down there? Last time I was in stirrups this long, I brought home a blue ribbon from Palm Beach equestrian.”

And when he tried to assure Wili that, despite what the doctor said about her “hostile womb,” her womb was in fact so friendly it practically had a “welcome mat” in front of it, Wili responded: “It hasn’t had a welcome mat since the ‘90s.”

I totally understand Marc’s gag reflex in these moments, as I, like many gay men, have experienced a similar case of the “icks” when confronted with graphic depictions of female genitalia, like when I stumbled across my father’s “secret” Playboy stash in the toolbox in the garage. And before any AfterEllen.com visitors get pissed at me, let me say I’d totally understand gay women feeling the same way if forced to hear about men who … actually, I can’t think of anything nearly so skeevy involving the male anatomy, so let’s just move on.

I loved the scene of Marc and Wili getting pedis (hers done by a professional, his done by himself, because I’m sure he wouldn’t trust the health and beauty of his nails to just anyone), a scene that set up Wili’s manicurist, Brandy, as her potential surrogate.

Marc also had screen time with Cristina, leering at her husband before dubbing him “McStraightie.” He showed himself to be surprisingly compassionate with her, consoling her after she learned insurance wouldn’t cover McStraightie’s experimental medical procedures.

Cristina had discovered Marc when he slipped into the Mode closet to do some freebie shopping, explaining that he had a big date with Cliff that night and needed “pants with butt cleavage.”

Given it was supposed to be a “big date,” I was guessing they either had tickets for Xanadu, or were planning on taking their relationship to a more intimate level than holding hands on the couch and threatening to break up because the other one is too shallow/slobby. But if getting some nookie was the plan, you’d never know it from Cliff’s choices at the video store, given that The 400 Blows and The Sorrow and the Pity aren’t exactly going to put anyone in the mood for love.

Then again, neither would Marc’s choice - Bring It On - unless one of them had some sort of fantasy about male cheerleaders or Jesse Bradford, which come to think of it, is pretty likely.

Personally, I found the whole idea of going to a videostore on a date in this age of Netflix and Movies on Demand delightfully quaint, like a throwback to the days when the kids sipped “malteds” at the “Five & Dime” and “called” each other on the “phone.”

Unable to settle on a video, Marc suggested moving on back to porno selections, although Cliff was skeeved out by the time he saw his dentist back there. This led to a rather impassioned speech about gay rights from Marc:

Marc: Oh grow up. We’re two healthy American men in a relationship. They can keep us from getting married but they can’t keep us from going into the little dark room behind the curtain.

In the strangely bright and tidy porno room, they were surprised (although I wasn’t) to find a copy of The 400 Blows, although not the one by Truffault. Frankly, if they looked harder, I’m sure they would have seen the porno version of Bring It On, called - what else? - Bone It On.

Marc gave a little tour of the porno sections, moving from “military” to “shaved,” although I would have thought those would be pretty much the same movies.

Then he let out a shocked yelp of “Manicurist,” having found that Brandy had a little side business that involved buffing things other than nails. This led to Marc proposing that Cristina, desperate for money, be Wili’s surrogate. I just don’t want to be there when they tell her she needs to lay off the booze for nine months.

While this was an interesting outcome to that plotline, I’m disappointed we didn’t get to see Marc and Cliff’s big date. They apparently wound up watching The 400 Blows, and I was curious if after the movie they managed to make it 401. Maybe we’ll find out after the writer’s strike.

In the meantime, it was also gratifying to see Marc finally getting more screen time with his old chum Amanda this week. Their first lines of dialogue were all it took to make me realize how much I’ve missed seeing the two of them together:

Amanda: Hey, Lady.
Marc: Hey, Tramp … Oh, are we playing "Papa can you hear me" again?

Amanda was upset because her private investigator hadn’t turned up any leads on the Daddy front, although Marc couldn’t help but titter when he made her phrase it as “Dick Tracy … shooting blanks.”

Marc’s solution was to hire a psychic he swears is brilliant, given she figured out he was gay. To which Amanda snarked, “So did the doctor who delivered you.” Frankly, Marc being Marc, I’d think even his mother would have figured it out when he was in the womb, when she found herself suddenly craving canapés, Madonna videos, and sailors.

The psychic was amusingly played by Annie Potts, who you may remember from that old TV show Slightly Less Menopausal Golden Girls Designing Women. With the recent guest stars we’ve seen on Betty, I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before we see other faded, largely-unheard-of former sit-com divas like Florence Henderson, Roseanne Barr, and Jennifer Aniston.

The psychic’s prediction led to the rather surprising indication that Amanda’s biological father is none other than Gene Simmons. At first, I was pretty excited by this hard rockin’ future guest star possibility. But then I got a mental picture of freakish-pixie Fey Sommers coupling with Simmons in full-out KISS drag, a nightmarish image right out of a Hieronymus Bosch painting that made me wet myself (just a little) in terror.

The other highlight of this week was seeing Justin finally getting some interesting material. In fact, in an episode that kicked off with a series of delicious zingers like “cirque du so lame” and “Bradford’s ye olde sperm,” the line that really put a smile on my face was this one:

Betty: Today’s the day I’m taking Justin’s class on a tour of the magazine.

Whenever Justin shows up at Mode, you just know good things will come of it. This week, we saw a rather stylishly decked out Justin immersed in a deliberate replay of Mean Girls, complete with a doe-eyed square peg named Hilary (a dead ringer for pre-tabloid-trainwreck Lindsay Lohen) being tormented by a bossy Queen Bee named, um, Lindsay. “If she doesn’t like what someone says,” Justin explained, “she makes their life hell. It’s like Lord of the Flies in ballet flats.”

Betty, concerned about the image the magazine was giving these girls about women’s bodies, spent much of the episode trying to engineer a Fashion Week show featuring “healthy models.” Justin, for his part, spent much of the episode desperately trying to prevent Betty from foiling his chances of being the clique’s first boy. I wondered if that meant he’d have to do a naughty version of “Jingle Bell Rock” at the next school talent show.

Speaking of talent, we learned of an undiscovered one for Justin. When Alexis and Daniel set up a publicity stunt involving weighing so-called healthy models, Justin figured out the scales were rigged, demonstrating an uncanny ability to guess exact weights. “That’s my gift,” he told Betty. “That and accessorizing.” So if a career in fashion is not in his future, he can always become a carny.

Betty confronted Alexis about the rigged scales, one of the few times I can ever think of where we saw these two together. Betty’s observation that she and Alexis both grew up unhappy with what they saw in the mirror was particularly poignant, as were her interactions with Daniel this week. This was capped off with a brilliantly acted scene with Amanda during which Betty got weepy talking about the loss of her mother. Those emotional moments, on the heels of the comedy in Marc’s storylines, highlighted what Betty at its best does best.

In the end, after Betty’s alterna-fashion show succeeded in influencing at least one of the school clique (although not Hilary, who continued trying to curry favor with the Queen Bee), it looked like Justin might be one step closer to being a Mean Girl boy.

And with only two episodes remaining, I’m hoping the writers take a page from the success of the Mean Girls parallels this week to find ways to put Justin in other classic teen comedy set-ups. Maybe The Breakfast Club. Or Ferris Bueller. I say, Bring It On.