Improbably Bohemian Loft, Lushly Romantic Dream Ballet Fantasy Sequence Rooftop Division. Dreamboat Blaine emerges from the stairwell to step onto a mistily moonlit soundstage recreation of that elephant set from St. Gay Of Lima's favorite movie, and with little ado, he croons the opening lines of "Come What May." And much as it pains me to say this, Ewan McGregor did it better. Though maybe I'm allowing those hurl-inducing fuzzy-edged flashbacks of happier moments in his relationship with St. Gay to color my judgment of Dreamboat Blaine's performance, because the instant they're gone, I start finding this number more than just a little bit enjoyable, especially when Kurt materializes in the gently-falling snow to handle the Nicole Kidman bits. In fact, I start finding this number so goddamned enjoyable, I'm not even gonna bother trying to pick it apart. I will note one interesting choice, though: While there's an almost urgent ardency to Fantasy Blaine's performance throughout the song (read: He makes a lot of endearingly doofy faces, as is his wont), Fantasy Kurt remains warily aloof, which kind of blows for him, given that it's his lushly romantic dream ballet fantasy sequence we've been watching this entire time. If I actually liked the character at this point in the show's run, I'd be feeling mighty blue for him right about now.
But setting all that aside, it really is just a lovely number, and it's another I could easily watch a dozen or so more times. Which of course raises the question: If they can get this one so right, why can't they do the same for all of the other musical numbers on this goddamned show? Why do so many of them have to suck so much, huh? WHY? WHYYYYYYYYY?
Ahem. In any event, our Fantasy Boys rather significantly cut off the song's last line before they hit the "until my dying day" bit, and as they cling to each other in the soundstage snow, the camera pans up to cross-fade back to...
...The Improbably Bohemian Loft, where we find Meth Head Grandpa, St. Gay Of Lima, and The Horrible Hooker Of Broadway huddled in a swoony clump of verklempt on the sofa while Santana sits rather regally off to one side, once again looking like she's ready to throttle someone. Heh. And as the number ends in the actual movie on their television set, Meth Head Grandpa glances over at his would-be boyfriend and wonders, "Are you crying?" "No! No," St. Gay Of Lima hastily LIES before spouting some obvious line of bullshit about his damn dirty contact lenses, and Santana glares at him for a lengthy moment before too-innocently noting, "I would have thought that you were crying because you and Blaine used to talk about how it was your dream to sing this song to each other at your wedding." "Did we?" St. Gay bites, clutching at his imaginary pearls while desperately attempting to will her mouth shut telekinetically. "Yeah!" Santana brightly continues, completely ignoring death rays now shooting from St. Gay's eyes. "I remember you telling me that singing this song to someone was a more intimate act than sex!" "Who wants popcorn?" St. Gay hoots, attempting to change the subject, but Santana's got that one covered, as there's something she'd like to discuss with her new roommates.