Aaand we abruptly cut from the blue/green cold reality of night and anger to the uninspiring credits of the warm rising sun and melodramatic white people. Commercials. Now, I know that the Sundance Channel is pretty much owned by NBC, but should I be worried that during FNL a commercial airs that has Mikhail Baryshnikov (dudes! I spelled his name correctly without Google!) talking about his art for the Sundance series Iconoclasts?
Quick, cacophonous nighttime scene where a pick-up truck yanks the outer door to the Panther locker room out of its jamb and a crowd of boys rush in to smash shit up and spray paint the walls. Daytime, and we hear Mayor Lady talking while we get our weekly dose of Drive-By Poverty as the camera goes jaunting through the eviscerated downtown Dillon again. We cut in to a really sweet beauty shop, where about forty old ladies are getting their hair set for the week. Aw, my Georgian grandmother used to get her hair set every Monday too. Tears! They watch on the television where Mayor Lady exposits that the big game between longtime rivals Dillon Panthers and Arnett Mead Tigers is coming up at the end of the week. The Mayor from the rival town is there next to her as she makes a wager with him; whoever wins on Friday gets her prize heifer Sally. Sally also happens to be standing in the frame with Mayor Lady and Mayor Rival.
Morning at the Taylors. Tami packs her purse, and yet again rocks a low-cut v-neck top. This woman must drive those high school boys mad. She asks Coach when he's going to get home on Friday and he mutters something about a scrimmage being over when it's over, whereupon Julie storms out of the room. Coach is like "what'd I do now?" and I do love a put-upon man in a household of women, if only for its novelty for me, having grown up with all brothers. Tami exasperatedly tells her husband that Julie's dance recital is on Friday -- which he knew -- and exposits a bit that they plan them on "bye weeks" just in the slight hope that somebody will show up. Kyle Chandler's hair is all "I haven't had my coffee yet! I mixed up the dates!" and Tami says she'll calm Julie down for him.
In the Far Too Realistically Depressing Rehab Facility, Jason is being put into a wheelchair by a male nurse/physical therapist. A rough little motorcross-looking man in a wheelchair is crammed into the already tight, institutional space, giving everybody a hard time: "When you're done putting the newbie into that gay wheelchair, let me know." The P.T. reminds him, "You are talking to a gay man, Herc" to which Herc responds, "I don't mean 'gay' as in 'homosexual,' I mean 'gay' as 'retarded'." The no-nonsense P.T. (even more no-nonsense than the fabulous Bill Nunn in Regarding Henry? Well, let's not get crazy here!) shoots back, "Maybe I have a retarded son" but Herc doesn't miss a beat, "Is he gay?" Shit, that was some good dialogue. Let's also notice that throughout this snappy scene, Jason is just heartbreakingly immobile, not even able to turn his head to follow the witty ripostes. Done verbally sparring, Herc informs Bill the P.T. that the benchpress on the second floor is broken and that he needs "a walkie" to fix it. He wheels around to leave but not before snapping at Jason, "Welcome to paradise." Jason asks Bill who the hell that was, and Bill replies, "Your roommate." It's Herc, exasperating-yet-inspirational wheelchair guy!