Matt Saracen is getting beat up. By life and by fists. His grandmother is wandering around the neighborhood confused, he's got an ill-advised crush on the coach's daughter (who Coach Taylor unwittingly suggests that he get into the back seat of a car with in order to "get loose" for tomorrow's practice), his tough-guy teammates are after-school-special peer-pressuring him into taking a bat to the rival quarterback's Mustang, and he still can't tell his right from his left on the football field. But everything starts looking up for him in the end when, despite getting the living crap kicked out of him out back of the Alamo Freeze by aforementioned rival quarterback and company, he goes to a dance recital and then discusses Abstract Expressionism with Julie. And they say this show isn't about boys and football!
Coach Taylor is on thin ice with Tami after he invites a hundred people over for ribs without telling her, but they end up making out after attending a dance recital, too, so go figure. I don't know if I've ever heard of "dance recital" as a surefire cure for what ails the bedroom, but....does Cats count?
Jason Street is slowly being eased out of Friday Night Lights and into an inspirational documentary about extreme wheelchair sports, and Lyla is slowly being eased out of her pants by Riggs, and I'm sort of loving it.
Previously: Saracen's grandmother is batty, Tyra and Tim have a Catherine and Heathcliff moment out on the lonesome heath, Jason tells Lyla to go find another man to spoon-feed, Lyla decides to spoon-feed her tongue to Tim.
Huge keg party at which the kids are listening to far too good hip hop to be real high school students. It's the sonic equivalent of them drinking Chateau Margaux rather than Boones. But kids will be kids, fake good taste in hip hop or not, and so there's lots of "whoo!"-ing and raising of the hands in the air like they just don't care. The camera jerks this way and that to show us kids lounging, kids gossiping, kids dancing, and I'm convinced it's a party. I'm especially convinced when some chubby kid comes winging out the sliding glass door (which opens onto a disheveled, oak-cabineted kitchen) and pukes on the cement patio. This happens to be just as Julie is walking toward the house and she pulls up short all "Ew!"
Matt takes this inopportune time to mouth-breathe over towards Julie, "Hey, Julie, you finally came to one of our parties!" She brushes past him, muttering about going to find out if puke comes out of suede. He wishes her good luck. Dorkiest quarterback EVAH!
Lyla stands, lankily pressed up against a post on the patio. Tim Riggins sits out in the yard, Cheekers Pretty Peach all up his cheekbones, staring at Lyla. Lyla's "friend" over-enunciates that Tim has been staring at them all night. Lyla stutters a bit in reaction. Her "friend," or as we'll call her, "Extra #4," blows her chance at the big time by making Minka Kelly look like Meryl Streep in comparison. (Though to be fair, she has been given a line that begins, "Word on the street is...") Delusional Extra #4 thinks Riggins is TOTALLY into her. Lyla breathes a sigh of comparatively-subtly-acted relief.
Voodoo walks in the front door looking pretty tough. As-Yet-Unidentified-Latino-Boy asks Saracen if he's Googled Voodoo yet. Say "Google Voodoo" ten times fast. As we already know via Nasty Sweaty Buddy Garrity, Voodoo is majorly good, winning State last year and breaking all kinds of records. As-Yet-Unidentified-Latino-Boy (wow, these Latino names are quite a mouthful, huh?) tells Saracen to kiss his position goodbye, and then tells him to have a good time with "his girlfriend," who is Landry, sitting there being his regular, criminally-underused self.
The dance floor is popping off, Smash is charming some hussy with his hips, and everybody's having a grand ol' hormonal time when-- screeefpp!-- somebody changes the music! To another really good hip hop song! We won't stand for that! Smash disengages from his hussy and calls across the dance floor, "Hey Doo-Doo"-- tee hee hee -- "What you doing changin' my song?" Voodoo sort of slithers over toward Smash -- I LOVE how Aldis Hodge is playing him so quietly -- and tells him "Seriously, son, you gotta climb some trees. Touch somethin'." Wha? His speech is so quiet and calm and nonsensical, I'm thinking he's been hitting something that isn't Boones. He reaches out and gently taps Smash's cheek. Smash's eyes burn fire, "You ever touch me again, I will break your fingers." The party has gone silent, Voodoo just sort of chuckles to himself as he leaves Smash behind; close up on Smash's face, lit in blues and greens. The song keeps playing in the background, repetitive beats intensifying Smash's anger.