Elevator music! Southern Living! James Taylor! Good Morning America! Questionable legal counsel! Is this an amenities list from a bitchin’ assisted living facility brochure? Nope, it’s just Nashville.
Nancy Floyd here. Your reigning recapstress Ashley Spurgeon is celebrating her newfound legal emancipation from her family by sipping pomegranate mojitos at the beach. When she asked me to fill in for her, I admitted I haven’t been keeping up with the show much this season so she told me all I needed to know was this:
1. There are 85 new main characters and they’re all terrible.
2. Deacon (an alcoholic) opened a bar with his friend (an alcoholic) and YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED! Someone started drinking!
3. Scarlett got a haircut and became a person.
Let’s do this!
Rayna, Deacon & Maddie (and also Teddy & Daphne a little)
Rayna and Deacon are posing by the fireplace for an Olan Mills discounted portrait session a professional photo shoot with Southern Living magazine for an article about the “amazing life of Rayna James.” You know, the kind of life where you get pregnant by your drunk boyfriend, then never tell him about your baby, then marry another dude and lie to him for 15 years about being that baby’s daddy until you get publicly divorced and he gets arrested for prostitution, embezzlement and sundry white collar crimes, and then you leave a super famous guy at the altar on your wedding day and ultimately end up back with your drunk, sometimes violent boyfriend of yesteryear. Such a charmed life that Rayna James leads!
Rayna and Deacon are fretting over what to do about their teenage daughter going all Macaulay Culkin on them, and Deacon thinks they “gotta make some kind of damn move here,” but Rayna says, “I don’t think the move is ours to make.” Because every good parent knows that when your obnoxious, bratty, entitled, rebellious teenager takes legal action against you, the best thing to do is just host a family jam sesh at the Ryman and hope the child comes to her senses.
Rayna gets served legal papers to appear at a hearing about Maddie’s emancipation proclamation, and Daphne overhears and wants to know if Maddie is divorcing them. And Daphne is sad about losing Maddie, but mostly she’s probably just counting up how many Christmases she’s going to get to celebrate this year on account of divorced parents (who were also married/divorced/engaged to about four other people each) and a divorced sister. Rayna and Deacon meet with a lawyer to talk about the hearing, which is in 48 hours because Nashville is a city where shizz gets done son, and Deacon is all “I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE” when it comes to taking the stand and telling the judge all about Maddie and her bad news bestie, Cash. But it turns out Deacon doesn’t even get to be involved because Teddy is still considered Maddie’s legal father (no one ever thought to get that taken care of?) and Teddy’s in jail. Hahaha. Maddie’s case against her parents is looking A-OK.
Meanwhile, Maddie meets with her legal counsel, and the lawyer, who sadly is not Bart Durham, is all, “Oh, it’s so great that you’re going to drop out of school and just get your GED at 16 and also you definitely shouldn’t talk to your family or your sister at all. Ever.” Way to look out for your client, a wealthy 16-year-old whose major complaint here is that her mommy and daddy forced her to sign one amazing record deal instead of a different amazing record deal. Millennials, am I right? (Maddie and I are both technically millennials and it hurts me to the core.)
Rayna heads on down to Folsom to bring Teddy up to speed. Teddy, who is literally wearing a prison jumpsuit and probably has shackles on his ankles during this conversation, immediately starts blaming Deacon for being a bad father and causing all this drama with Maddie. Hi Kettle, it’s Pot. You’re black. K BYE!
Teddy refuses to sign an affidavit for Rayna until he hears Maddie’s side of the story. Fortunately, she’s coming to the prison this afternoon. They’re really playing it fast and loose with the visitors policy at the state pen. It takes Teddy all of 10 seconds to realize that Maddie is just being a typical American teenager who thinks she deserves to be able to choose her own record label, and he shuts her down. He tells her that signing the Edgehill deal wasn’t because he loved her or believed in her musical ability; it was all an elaborate ruse to keep evil Jeff Fordham from exposing something bad about his personal life. (Honestly, at this point, I don’t even remember why Jeff was blackmailing Teddy — adulterous affair, liaisons with a hooker, embezzling millions, watching his father-in-law die, marrying the pig-blood woman? Who can remember Teddy’s heinous list of indiscretions?) Once she hears the truth about her prison dad, “Maddie is sad but her jacket is glorious” is what my notes say.
Rayna uses Scott Borchetta to set a trap for Cash (everything in that sentence is completely true) and confronts her. Rayna tries to use her girlfriend-you-acting-cray voice on Cash, but when that doesn’t work, she uses her don’t-make-me-pull-this-car-over voice and literally tells Cash if she doesn’t leave Maddie alone she will never work in this town again. But I think it’s an empty threat because really, if Rayna stopped all the conniving songwriters in this city from ever getting jobs, who would make our lattes? Rayna confronts Maddie on the street and tells her to follow her heart (because that works out super great for everyone on this show). Maddie is feeling conflicted about whether or not she should meet up with everyone at the Ryman for a James-Claybourne Family Band Jamboree and also possibly not divorce her family. Cash has just come from a meeting with Maddie’s lawyer because attorney-client privilege apparently also includes your teen client’s rando 35-year-old best friend. Cash thinks Maddie should not back down because in the six hours since she decided to divorce her parents, recording offers are coming in from everywhere: L.A.! New York! Peoria! Kalamazoo!
Oh, look, it’s a Ford commercial filmed in front of the Ryman! Nah, that’s just Deacon arriving for his benefit concert and opening his tailgate in slow motion as you do. Just as Rayna is about to introduce Daphne’s first solo performance, Maddie shows up and takes the stage with her sister. It’s the least she could do for the fundraising gala for an organization that I’m pretty sure Rayna introduced as Foster More. These Nashville writers are just killing it on the name front. Tune in next week when the whole cast raises awareness for Abuse Less. Maddie and Daphne sing a song, and Rayna cries happy tears from side stage because everything is going to be OK for her big Southern Living article family. But no! It’s not going to be OK. Because Maddie ends the song, drops the mic, says she’s not coming home and then proceeds to walk out of the Ryman with Cash in slow motion through the doors that are right in the back of the auditorium that they never let you exit through while a show is going on. That’s how badass she is! Ryman rules be damned! Rayna cries sad tears while she sings a song that is eerily representative of the emotional turmoil her family is facing. It is called “Fake Daddy’s in Jail, Real Daddy’s a Drunk and Baby Girl Done Divorced Her Family (Ain’t It a Cryin’ Shame).”
Scarlett & Gunnar
Gunnar is popping popcorn and feeling excited about life and his upcoming interview with “Rolling Stone Country” (haha, have fun with that one, Gold) when Will calls to tell him their song is playing on the radio in Nashville! Overcome with excitement, Gunnar — a songwriter who once received a check for half of a million dollars for one of many chart-topping songs that he wrote — runs wildly through the streets of Nashville and turns on every radio in his father’s appliance store. Scarlett, an incomplete set of Care Bears collector glasses from Pizza Hut, can’t be bothered with human emotion so she storms off. She later tries to keep Gunnar from joining her on the elevator by rapidly pushing the Close Door button — a common myth that, in my opinion, actually keeps the door open longer. When he calls her out for being, well, the worst, she admits that they’ve spent four whole days together and she needs her space. If only there was a way for the universe to force these two children together so they could work out their issues. Cue a 10-block blackout that traps them in an elevator. Scarlett pulls out a bottle of Scotch — I would need four bottles of Scotch to deal with either of these two jokers for more than 10 seconds — and admits that she started drinking when she learned that “Autumn is a lying, backstabbing cooter.” These are real words written by a real writer to be said on a real show that is meant to depict real, believable characters in 2016.
Gunnar confesses that Autumn made a pass at him and “she invited me to go off with her and hang out with James Taylor.” But GUNNAR TURNED DOWN THE CHANCE TO HANG OUT WITH JAMES TAYLOR BECAUSE THAT’S HOW MUCH HE CARES FOR THE BAND. Which I guess means he cares about the band a lot? Or maybe not at all? I’m not sure that “turning down James Taylor” is the most clear cultural reference this show could’ve used to illustrate the depths of Gunnar’s loyalty to the band. I think Autumn should’ve offered him a lifetime supply of V-necks or a collection of Pharrell’s old hats. That would’ve been the true test of Gunnar’s loyalty, and I would’ve respected Autumn more for it. Don’t pimp out Sweet Baby James, Autumn. Not cool.
So now that it’s only taken 20 seconds for Gunnar and Scarlett to hash out all of their emotional drama using their words, whatever will they do in the indeterminable amount of time they’re stuck in this elevator? First, Scarlett will seductively shed one of 18 oversized layers she’s wearing. Gunnar, mistaking her for an 80-year-old woman being attacked by a sheep, offers to lend her a hand in removing her giant grandmother sweater. Now that her arms are bare, it seems like as good a time as any to sing a song rippling with sexual tension, no? They duet and make sex eyes and just as they’re about to kiss, guess what happens? A ceiling hatch opens and hundreds of rabid rats come scrambling inside the elevator and slowly eat them alive while their screams are drowned out by the sweet strains of an instrumental version of “Part-Time Lover” wafting through the hotel’s corridors. JK The power comes on and the elevator doors open! Bet you never saw that dramatic twist coming. They walk to Scarlett’s room, say an awkward goodbye like the 8th graders they are and wait a full two beats before Scarlett opens the door again and they start going at it. So that’s a thing again.
Avery, Layla & Juliette
In case you forgot this show is about country music, Juliette is wearing her sequinniest sequin dress to sing her twangiest twang songs at her first arena show in however long it’s been since she last played an arena show. (A while, I guess, because everyone is making a big deal about it.) Layla watches the show from side stage looking as pissed as Carrie in a blood-soaked prom dress and tries to electrocute Juliette with her mind. Add telekinetic revenge to the list of Layla’s not-fully-realized talents.
She heads back to the bus, where Avery has just put Cadence to sleep and they decide to work on a song together. Juliette, peeved that Avery decided to take the bus rather than fly on her private jet (her career ain’t hurting too bad if her private jet is still in commission), asks Glenn if she should worry about Layla and Avery. Glenn assures Juliette that the only thing going on with Layla and Avery is her music, which is Nashvillese for “they will definitely be having sex soon.” Back on the bus, Layla and Avery listen to a song on a pair of headphones from 1984, each of them holding one earpiece so their faces are only inches apart. Just before the rabid rats invade the tour bus, they kiss and accidentally pull the cord from the computer, waking that screaming baby up in no time. The next day, they meet for coffee and admit to liking each other but “things are complicated.” Juliette keeps trying to win Avery back but he’s not having it. There are a lot of angry whispers and anguished expressions and close-talking and sorry faces and hand-holding and then that baby starts crying again. No one likes a cockblock, Cadence.
Layla pines for Avery in her hotel room and does what any lovesick girl would do: watches YouTube videos of her and her crush dueting onstage in front of thousands of adoring fans. Juliette texts Avery something about being scared and brave that I’m assuming she once saw cross-stitched on a pillow, and Avery paces in the hotel hallway outside of a door. But whose? Layla’s. Since they’ve already engaged in life’s most intimate act (making music together), they might as well bang.
Will & Luke
Will is still gay, and country music fans are still the worst so no one cares about his music. Luke’s Business Friend (I’m sure he has a name but I’m way too tired and indifferent to look it up) sets up a showcase for Will at Nashville’s only music venue, The Bluebird, for 50 radio promoters but only five show up on account of not being hateful bigots. Why don’t they just let in some of the 200 people lined up in front of Bluebird to pad the crowd? Whatevs.
Luke thinks they need to make a bigger splash, so he takes Will to Good Morning America to talk about his music and his gayness with Robin Roberts. Luke encourages viewers to call their local radio stations and request Will’s music. Luke is happy with how the appearance went, but Business Friend is worried that Luke might be the one to pay the price. I’m thinking Luke just needs to be photographed next to an American flag, a big truck and a bunch of vets, or become a judge on a reality singing competition, and all will be forgiven.
