GLEE: The Purple Piano Project Recap

I watch Glee with a fair amount of cynicism, but you know, that’s all because I’m involved with schools to know that nothing actually works like this.

Of course, in the season premiere, “The Purple Piano Project” at least one of my main gripes about high school shows was answered: we at least figured out what grades half the kids are in.

One of my other passions is politics, and now I’m more than a little concerned about Sue’s decisions to run for Congress on an anti-arts platform. (Since when is that worthy of a platform? I’d rather talk about Free Silver for claiming Puerto Rico as a state.)

Quinn’s new band of skanks (oh, that’s a great term to bring back to high schools, Ryan et al.), along with her voice that sounds like one too many cigarettes have been inhaled, rings more than little false, but for the sake of the show, I forgive many a change in character.

Contrite battle between Sue and Will–why am I not shocked that this storyline can’t be over?

Missing the days when Becky didn’t look like a Sue-clone would also be a nice change of pace, showrunners?

Santana’s personality is still one of the many things I do love, however. Playing both sides in a battle between Sue and Will is never wrong. You can always win in some way.

(Note to the show: it took twenty minutes for our first real musical number. Color me impressed. Also color me impressed it was a group number.)

The food fight coming just after the musical number, I will say, is not something I expected from the show. Reminds me of Animal House, if only it was about high schoolers instead of frat boys.

Sugar is one of those horrible television trope sthat will serve to get the Glee Club some better kids. But I really can’t fault Will’s soured expression or Rachel’s candor.

The history joke was appreciated, show, but I’m not sure that General Shuester comment in Ohio is the most timely.

At this moment where Kurt and Rachel are singing from Wicked, I really need one friend so my eye-roll can be appropriately appreciated (I’m looking at you H).

This montage of new recruits reminds me of any number of cheerleading movies, but the glitter bomb might be a new favorite.

I missed talking about Blaine and Kurt’s first coffee conversation earlier, but now that Blaine is out of uniform (OH MY YES!), and an unannounced new member of the school. I can at least appreciate Blaine’s choice of Tom Jones, especially in those red pants. I feel like he needs a glittery jacket and a real microphone with a cord to throw around the stairs.

Flaming pianos were not what I expected to see from the end of that number either. Though that feels more like Vegas than anything else in Lima.

These other NYADA kids scare the every living crap out of me, and I’ve been around too many theatres in my life. Though I think one of my elementary school friends might be happy with a number like this in real life. That’s fabulous, to the two of you? To me that was just overdone and over produced. When did the producers decide that all touching moments in a car had to come in the rain? I can count at least three times it’s happened before, and I don’t remember it raining before they walked into the mixer.

Will, I have those days when I no longer want my phone to ring, telling me I have a job. Or when my alarm goes off.

Oh look, it’s another contrived plot line–Santana has to leave because she followed Sue. The part of me that likes Santana’s voice more than Rachel’s is less than pleased with this choice.

Rachel Berry, you are not Tracey Turnblatt, and I don’t really appreciate you telling me I don’t need to stop the beat right now. If Mercedes were doing this, I’d be happier (and not just because Mercedes fits that role better). Oh, I spoke to soon today, my bad.