Previously, on Six Feet Under: Nate was tormented by visions of his future, David was concerned about the inappropriate familial intimacy of his sister-in-law, Claire was mauled by man-eating tigers, and giant sandworms ruled the Earth!
Wait. That's not right. Let's try that again.
Previously, on Six Feet Under: Nate had issues with sex and his mother, Ruth had a happy ending at the local massage parlor, David took delight in detailing a bizarre sexual practice that involves sticking small pieces of metal into places they don't really belong, and giant sandworms ruled the Earth!
Eh. Close enough. It's my fifth recap in seven days, people. "Nobody Sleeps," indeed.
Fade up on a group of middle-aged men, laughing and joking as they administer the MST3K treatment to a late-night showing of The Bad Seed. This week's opening death seems almost calculated to tug directly at the heartstrings of your erstwhile recapper, as I contemplate the prospect of growing old and dying peacefully amongst a crowd of my snarky soulmates. I suppose there are worse ways to go. In fact, I've recapped quite a few of them. Seated in the center of this gathering are Kevin, who could totally be Chris Cooper from Adaptation if he would just smear some black shoe polish on a few of his teeth, and Kevin's lover Robert, who is wrapped in a blanket with an oxygen tube running to his nose. Be sure to note the prominent attention given to a found pair of shoes in this movie clip, by the way. That will be important later. At some point during the showing, Robert silently stiffens just the slightest little bit, and Almost Chris Cooper (or ACC, seeing as how it's Final Four week this week) slowly comes to realize that his partner has died. That doesn't stop the rest of their friends from continuing to rag on the movie, however, and it probably won't stop me from doing it either. Farewell, Robert Lamar Griffin. At least you weren't brutally murdered by a psychotic little girl.
Okay, I've seen a lot of disturbing things in my recapping career, and every time a fresh new horror crops up, I give a little spiel about how I've seen a lot of disturbing things in my recapping career and then announce that whatever nasty little vision I've just been a party to this time is officially the worst one ever. Well, this is officially the worst one ever. Nate wakes up in bed with Lisa (and without Maya, for that matter), but when he reaches over to try for some of that early-morning, über-gentle loving he's been so desperately craving, Lisa suddenly morphs into Ruth and starts cooing like a really horny pigeon. Yeah. Like I said, it's officially the worst one ever. Throw in a few ducks to fly away with his penis, and I'll be in therapy for years just for having watched it. Nate finally jerks awake a second time, and we see that not only is Maya still sleeping in their bed, but she's also strategically placed to provide maximum separation between Nate and his wife. Ahh, poor Nate. He even shaved his chest, and he still can't get laid.
Cut to later, with Nate feeding Maya at the breakfast table and Lisa product-placing Whole Foods, as she's often wont to do. You know, for all the crap I give the kid about her freakishly large noggin, the little girl playing Maya is actually a pretty decent actress for an infant her age. It must be a side effect of the increased cranial capacity or something, because I don't even like babies and their ilk, and yet she's still managing to charm me a bit here. Anyway, when Nate -- his hair drooping languidly with the metaphorical weight of some truly massive unresolved oedipal issues -- learns that Lisa is planning to throw a birthday party for his mother the next night, he informs her with a tone of weary, bemused patronization that no one ever does anything to celebrate his mother's birthdays, and that's the way everyone likes it. Lisa is horrified by the notion that an idea of hers might be even a smidgen less than perfect, but she manages to constrain her freak-out into a few minor eye-rolls and a question about whether or not Ruth likes Sarah McLachlan. Nate rolls his own eyes at that suggestion, although given his mother's expressed fondness for Joni Mitchell, I don't really think it's too far out of line.