No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you—”Always Meant To See That” is the third episode of the first season of Wrecked, but this is only the second review I’ve posted for the show. I watched a pre-air screener, and I didn’t know there was a two-episode premiere last week. Sorry! So I’m going to touch on the second episode, “Rest In Peace, Callaway Hinkle,” before jumping into this week’s goings-on.
There were more laughs to be had in “Rest In Peace,” which is a good sign for a comedy, starting with Pack, Owen, Florence, and Emma realizing they have almost no phone numbers memorized. The numbers they could recall led to some organic reveals about the characters’ backgrounds. Emma and Florence’s hospital suggestion was great, though the hospital’s location led to a falling out between the two. Pack, the sports agent, dialed his office only to learn that he’d already been replaced. Owen could only think to reach out to a Tucson Papa John’s, which says as much about his limited relationships as it does the sorry state of pizza options in Tucson. Florence only knew her drug dealer’s number by heart, but she readily scoffed at Owen’s “white privilege” because he assumed the number one would apply to the English language option for some hospital’s automated system.
Given that it was in San Francisco and not, say, Peru, I’d have assumed the same, but there were more pressing matters to attend to, like finding Todd’s missing “baby,” which turned out to be his Callaway golf club, which he insisted was more than just a club. Danny confronted his father’s spectral disappointment to give closure to a grieving widow, and realized he might be better at playing public servant than he thought. (He’d certainly find it more fulfilling than following in his father’s footsteps.) Most importantly, everyone learned how to set off a puke chain, which means everyone now knows how to prevent a puke chain.
That brings us to the present, or the events of “Always Meant To See That”. The survivors are still sorting out this new way of living. Every day will probably involve scrounging for food, as well as dealing with their diminishing hopes that they’ll be rescued. The more seriously injured among them will probably get worse, which means they’ll probably have another mass cremation (though hopefully not another puke chain). It’s a dreary existence—there are no creature comforts, as Pack peevishly points out. Everyone’s wiping their butts with palm fronds, and bathing in front of creeps—at least, Emma and Florence are.
So this week, everyone’s looking for a respite from their hardships. Todd and Owen head deeper into the jungle in search of more supplies including condoms, because, as Todd points out, they don’t want a bunch of “island bastards” running around. They come across a suitcase belonging to a “Kurt Turdhole” and briefly argue over the pronunciation of the last name before spying a shiny case. Todd sees the “future lock” and decides that there’s something very expensive or helpful within (he doesn’t seem to care which). When they struggle to get the case open, Todd deems it an “island mystery,” and his delivery of the line gives them both goosebumps.
They enlist Danny’s help in opening the case because, as the island cop, he’s got a gun. Danny tries to lecture them on responsible wielding of a firearm, but they just remind him that his less than judicious use gave someone in the group lead poisoning, so he backs off. Once the case is open, they gather ’round it.
If this were Pulp Fiction, there’d be a golden glow coming from the inside, but rather than holding Marcellus Wallace’s soul or heroin, this case just has a whole lot of sex toys. It’s not the latex bounty they were hoping to find, but there is a sex swing that could probably be fashioned into a hammock, if one had the knowledge (of the hammock-improvising kind). Owen has the same idea—that is, he realizes that they should compiling a list of everyone’s skills so they can figure out just how to survive on the island. Danny agrees to this new “census,” but Todd only wants in so he can find out who the “pervert” is.
Pack’s daily foraging yields a DVD player with two hours of battery life on it. What he doesn’t immediately find is a DVD to play, though, so he deputizes Emma and Florence to help him pull off an island movie night. It could be the last movie they ever see, as well as the last enjoyable activity they engage in, so everyone’s committed to finding something to watch. The roommates find a DVD travel case (which they first mock) with two movies in it: the critically-acclaimed Selma, and the critical dud Dumb And Dumber To.
Once again, the new standards they live by come into play, or rather, the survivors are presented with another opportunity to cultivate new standards by which to live. Pack, Emma, and Florence clearly want to watch Dumb And Dumber To, but they’ve “always wanted to see” Selma, which they acknowledge is a far more significant film. So they worry they’ll be judged by their poor taste, even though they’re basically the tastemakers now.
The group is large and heterogeneous enough to draw out the decision-making process, but then they’re distracted by the giant dildo debacle. Todd’s still bent out of shape about the kinkier inclinations of one of his island neighbors—he’s convinced that the case belongs to one of the survivors because it was hidden deep in the jungle brush. And he may be a douchebro, but he’s also right—the case belongs to Danny, who confides in Owen that he bought all the dildos and strap-ons at the request of an internet love.
It seems Danny didn’t know that “dong” is the name of Vietnam’s currency, so he packed a lot of plastic ones for his trip. Their newly-formed society is initially just as prudish as (parts of) the old one, and most of the survivors turn their noses up at Danny before getting ready to turn their backs on him, too. But his budding friendship with Owen saves him, as the flight attendant spills his own embarrassing secret: he was once a pageant prince. Soon everyone’s confessing: Florence is a lapsed vegan, Pack’s suit is off the rack, and some unnamed guy with a huge scar says he killed a man outside of Tallahassee. “I told myself it was him or me, but I was lying. It was always him.”
Suddenly, Danny’s sexual proclivities are the least of anyone’s concern. Well, Todd is still hung up on them, but his idea of a romantic getaway is a Hangover 2 movie tour, so he’s obviously a bigger deviant. The other big issue is also quickly resolved; Diane from Toledo, whose judgment was deferred to because she’s a [black] “film buff,” decides that life is too short to watch Selma. They need some escapist fun, even if it is in the form of a bad sequel, so they gather to watch Dumb And Dumber To. No one but Owen will sit next to Danny, of course, but things could be worse.
Stray observations
- After Todd brought up the Hangover 2 tour, I started to see a resemblance between Will Greenberg (who plays the character) and Bradley Cooper.
- There are three baristas in the group. Well, former baristas.
- Diane from Toledo should change her name to “Diane, the arbiter from Toledo” or “Diane The Arbiter From Toledo” or something.
- There is a real Deez Nuts app, but it doesn’t sound anywhere near as interesting as the fictional one.
- I’m sure Justin Bartha has better things to do than pick up tourists in a Thai airport, but if he doesn’t, can someone get cracking on that National Treasure sequel?