True Blood Review: I Smell A Rat

Greetings, loyal Truebies, as we inch one step closer to the imminent Season Three finale set to occur in a mere two weeks.

After we were left hanging with Russell’s epically shocking behavior involving both a declaration of war between humans and vampires and the spine removal of an unfortunate newscaster – on live television, to boot – I had predicted a more relaxing episode this week, hoping Alan Ball and company would have the good judgment to prevent viewers from suffering complete sensory overload from another mind-blowing development. Indeed, “I Smell a Rat” followed suit with my expectations and toned down the theatrics, serving as a meditation of sorts on the aftermath of last week’s shocking shenanigans. Some would say this means the episode was boring, but I found it strangely reassuring to watch the characters at least attempt to make sense of the messes they’re in, both collectively and individually, and try to assess the extent of the havoc wreaked upon the residents of Bon Temps.

Of course, this is True Blood, so the hour was by no means devoid of an eye-opening backstory and game-changing developments that could thwart the trajectory of multiple characters’ storylines by the end of the season. Sticking to business as usual, a few impulsive decisions were still made that ended up essentially negating any otherwise promising progress rational behavior would have secured.

We start things off with an attention-grabber, as the first line of dialogue spoken in Sunday’s episode is Sookie’s incredulous response to Bill divulging her identity: “I’m a faerie?!” she scoffs. “How f—in’ lame.” While this piece of information may have been one of the worst kept secrets ever as far as most viewers are concerned (I silently echoed Sookie’s sentiments to myself, verbatim) and gave the anticipated disclosure a rather anti-climactic feel, Bill’s subsequent statements certainly made my ears perk up.

After explaining that one of Sookie’s ancestors had been forced to procreate with a faerie long ago, establishing the supernatural bloodline in the Stackhouse family tree, Bill tells Sookie that her appeal to Russell, Sophie-Anne and Eric lies within the fact that faeries’ blood is “delectable and intoxicating” for vamps. Bill assures a skeptical Sookie his feelings for her are genuine, however, and not inspired by his instinctual drive to suck her dry. Whatever you say, Bill. The opening credits are then cued by perhaps the most pertinent piece of information in the entire episode: Faeries, as a species, are generally believed to be extinct, annihilated at the hand of hungry vampires. Hmm. No wonder that Sookie Stackhouse is such a hot commodity.

Outside Merlotte’s, Jason and Tara are processing his impromptu slaying of Franklin – a character I’m sad to see go, frankly. He and Russell could have had dueling insanities for seasons to come, and I’d have stayed glued to my seat. Jason is immediately reminded of both his secret slaughter of Eggs and vampire Eddie’s brutal demise months earlier at the hands of his then-girlfriend Amy, and begins to go a bit crazy himself. While practically rolling around in Franklin’s stringy remains and simultaneously experiencing the five stages of grief in record time, Tara snaps him out of it and instructs him to “DIG!” He and Tara do a rather shoddy cover-up job of the guts and speed off in Jason’s truck to burn Franklin’s clothes.

Hats off to the editors for smoothly cutting to another careening pickup, as Jesus, Lafayette, Crystal and a bloodied Calvin hightail it to the hospital to mend Sam’s brutal handiwork. Instead of the ER, however, Lafayette stops at his house to give Cal a drop or two of vampire blood, healing his mangled mug almost instantly. While Crystal cries with delighted relief, Jesus is shocked and intrigued by the effects the V had on Calvin’s injuries. Calvin, meanwhile, is horrified at Crystal for letting a couple of gay guys feed him “fangers’ blood,” an apparent double-whammy to a hillbilly’s ego. Crystal tries to point out that his life has been saved, but Calvin’s pride is too damaged and he focuses on the fact Crystal has ditched Hotshot and her birthright to have Felton’s children (corrective side note: I’ve been calling Felton “Fenton” for the last couple of recaps. Apologies.) to shack up with a human. “We ain’t supposed to mix,” Calvin sneers at Crystal, who doesn’t help matters by declaring she doesn’t love Felton. Calvin charmingly informs Crystal, “You ain’t supposed to love him. You just gotta lie under him.” Touching. As Calvin runs off and a more-pathetic-by-the-second Crystal chases after him, Lafayette utters the best and most succinctly accurate character assessment of the season: “Them f—ers is a whole new dimension of trash.” Hee!

Calvin’s miraculous recovery is unbeknownst to a guilt-ridden Sam, who’s using whiskey to aid both the physical and psychological ramifications of his sudden attack of brutality at Merlotte’s. After pondering a series of unsupportive voices from the past, Sam takes an ill-advised trip down memory lane to ripen his already looming self-destruct. It’s flashback time, to 2003, where we see a clean-shaven, suit-wearing Sam, hair slicked back, enter a hotel room with a comely blonde. He and his lady friend are all over each other and drooling over the contents of the bags Sam has brought with him. As fistfuls of expensive jewelry tumble out of the sacks and the blonde’s eyes widen with glee, it’s become apparent Sam has not always used his shifting abilities for the greater good. As he begins to project a future of bar ownership and good-looking kids with his girl, a sleazy-looking fellow with a pistol sneaks around the corner and holds the barrel of the gun to Sam’s temple. Turns out, poor Sam was taken for a chump by both the blonde and her real boyfriend as they run off with Sam’s loot and he’s left on the floor of the hotel room with empty pockets and a broken heart.

Meanwhile, back at Fangtasia, a seriously spooked and seriously screwed Eric is frantically getting his affairs in order in the likely case a vengeful Russell decides to show up and rip out his spine. As a lawyer recites the terms of his will, Eric reveals he intends to leave his entire estate to Pam (or, Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, a name almost as fit for a Southern belle as Scarlett O’Hara). Yvetta, serving as a legal witness, is upset she isn’t being considered in Eric’s life beyond the “job and good sex” he promised her. Eric isn’t in the mood for whining and shouts a handful of offensive obscenities in Yvetta’s direction until she flees the room in tears. A disgusted Pam clearly isn’t impressed and calls Eric a “cold hearted bastard.”

Back in Bon Temps, Bill is watching perennial TV talking head Nan Flanagan desperately try to spin the PR disaster Russell’s homicidal tirade had on the AVL’s cause back in her favor by likening him to Jeffrey Dahmer – the horrific acts of one person, she claims, shouldn’t create a backlash against their entire species. There certainly wasn’t an anti-human movement after such monsters as Dahmer went on their killing sprees, were there? Nice try, Nan, but Russell’s outburst has spiked the fundamentalist fear-mongers’ motivation through the roof and anti-vampire sentiments are saturating through society like a wet sponge. Case in point? Arlene, watching TV at Merlotte’s, is transfixed by the smug return of Steve Newlin and his Fellowship of the Sun movement as though it were the Second Coming. Newlin states to his audience that if he weren’t such a good Christian, he’d say, “told you so!” regarding the allegedly proven unforgivable evil of the vampire race. Between this and Jessica’s discovery of a burning cross in her front yard, I could write a thesis about the wry symbolism True Blood uses to parallel vampires’ plight for civil rights to our political climate in real life, but the transgression could distract me for pages. And pages. While I love me some shirtless Eric as much as the next gal, my love for True Blood as a show lies directly in its cutting satire of society and its ongoing bigotry throughout history, and scenes like this only rekindle said love and make my heart aflutter. Sigh.

As Nan continues, Eric interrupts and announces to a startled Bill that he, too, knows what Sookie is (thanks, Hadley) and asks Bill if the rumors are true — can faerie blood actually neutralize a vampire’s aversion to sunlight? Bill scoffs at Eric, asking him why he’d bother revealing any information to Russell’s “butt boy” (Bill’s uncharacteristically crude words, not mine). Eric informs Bill rather plainly that his standing with Russell was destroyed as soon as he killed Talbot. Bill sarcastically thanks Eric for single-handedly setting vampires’ cause back 1,000 years at the whim of a madman, and then admits that faerie blood only makes a vamp able to stay in the sun for a few minutes and smolder more slowly than normal — but smolder nonetheless. This question had apparently been of particular interest to Sophie-Anne, as Eric mentions she’ll be “disappointed” upon this news. Eric then cryptically warns Bill that he’ll “tell Sookie the truth” if he loves her. Before I can ask, Sookie appears and takes the words right out of my mouth, inquiring, “what truth?” Bill, the predictably bad liar he always is, says the “truth” they’re referring to is the remarkably un-earth shattering news that Sookie’s a faerie, which is a glaringly lame cover but somehow suits Sookie just fine. What is Bill hiding? Why is Sookie so frustratingly dumb when it comes to this guy?

After an increasingly creepy Tommy hits on Jessica at Merlotte’s, again, and hilariously assures her he isn’t too good for her (I’m howling – what an idiot), Hoyt is seen enduring yet another painfully awkward date with the painfully eager Summer. Poor thing – both of them. Hoyt can’t take it anymore (can’t blame him) and heads to Merlotte’s to declare his love for Jessica, much to Tommy’s raging chagrin. Jessica is dumbstruck at Hoyt’s gesture and responds by citing her history of doing “terrible things” as a vampire as the reason behind her unworthiness for Hoyt’s affections. Hoyt and his broken heart slump out of Merlotte’s where a pesky Tommy tries to be a smart ass and rightfully gets clocked in the face by a morose Hoyt. Tommy then shifts into a pit bull and tears a serious gash in Hoyt’s arm before Jessica shows up, tosses Tommy (still in pit bull form) into the woods (another guffaw-inducing moment), and tells a profusely bleeding Hoyt, “I love you, too. Now drink my blood.” Aww.

Back at Jason’s house, Bill and Sookie have been hiding out and are greeted by a Franklin-covered Jason and an unhappy Tara, still targeting much of her residual anger at Bill for his disregard for her safety while she was being held hostage at Russell’s. Sookie begins to protest Tara’s vehement disapproval of Bill’s reappearance in Sookie’s life when Tara finally explains what Franklin had done to her and that Bill hadn’t “lifted a finger” to help her. Instead of being horrified that her boyfriend had treated her best friend this way, Sookie chooses the sympathetic route and gives Tara a hug. Oh, Sookie. Bill, meanwhile, has asked Jason to make sure he has adequate weapons to protect Sookie from the impending werewolf attack should it happen during the day when he can’t be there. Jason assures Bill he has it all under control, which I would find the least-assuring statement possible, coming from Jason Stackhouse.

The next morning, Jesus and Lafayette are discussing the previous night’s events after Lafayette discovers Jesus rummaging through his stash of V with visible curiosity. After a convincing campaign from Jesus, they each take a taste and embark on a hallucinogenic trip so deeply vivid they share the same visions and catch a glimpse of each other’s paranormally inclined ancestors. From Lafayette’s great-grandma Winnie using a magic powder to protect her from her abusive owner to Jesus’ sorcerer grandfather who practiced “black arts,” it seems my assumption that the relationship between Jesus and Lafayette wouldn’t involve any supernatural activity was dead wrong. I remember Ruby Jean’s mysterious mumblings about Lafayette’s “power,” but I had assumed any further exploration of this tenuous subplot would either go completely ignored or remain untouched at least until next season. As a fan of Lafayette, Jesus and their intensifying romance, consider me intrigued.

Sam braves surely one of the worst morning afters of his life and quietly steps into Merlotte’s with a visible, albeit quivering, resolve. It’s immediately clear the entire staff is terrified of him after they all witnessed him beat someone to a pulp the night before, but Sam announces that Lafayette had called to tell him “the guy’s fine” and everyone can go about their work and “pretend to be normal.” Ha! The mysterious Holly hands Sam an, ahem, herbal remedy she says curbs rage, defending her nosiness with the assertion she’s a practicing Wiccan. Sam raises his eyebrows and informs Holly there are two rules at Merlotte’s: no dancing, and no religion. All right, then. Tommy tells Sam he was “proud” of his “big brother” for his testosterone-drenched demonstration the night before, a statement to which Sam replies, “Yeah, well, you’re an idiot.” Couldn’t have said it better myself.

Meanwhile, Terry has snuck out back for a smoke and Arlene corners him to  finally fess up about the baby being Rene’s. She explains she wants to “get rid of it” because the spawn of someone so heinous couldn’t be anything but evil, but Terry responds all kinds of adorable and insists he’ll raise the child as his own and the loving household they’ll provide will insure the kid is a relatively normal human being — under Bon Temps standards, anyway. Despite this amazing declaration of devotion from Terry that would turn most women into a helpless puddle of goo, Arlene asks Holly the self-proclaimed witch about her alluded-to “other ways” to end the pregnancy.

Back at Stackhouse central, Sookie and Jason are discussing Jason’s murder of Franklin, an act that, combined with his guilt over the deaths of both Eddie and Eggs, has culminated into a grief so profound Jason can barely speak without wailing in despair. Sookie is confident Jason did the right thing, considering Franklin’s monstrous treatment of Tara, but recoils in horror when Jason admits to his role in Eggs’ death. Sookie insists Jason tell Tara the truth because “people always find out anyway and it’s 10 times worse.” She has a point, but Jason says he’s kept the truth about Eggs from Tara to protect her. Sookie is dubious, saying Jason isn’t protecting Tara, he’s just lying to her. Those two things, says Jason, “ain’t so different.” Besides, says, Jason, Sookie’s opinion is unfairly biased because no one can lie to her – no one, that is, except vampires. Duly noted.

As Sookie naps on the sofa, she dreams about a visit from Eric in which he insists, “you know you have feelings for me.” Although Sookie responds with a tart “Ew,” the predictable dreamland sexytime commences anyhow. More importantly, Eric tells Sookie, again, that she “can’t trust Bill,” and the consistently cryptic, increasingly  maddening, loose end of this plotline continues to drive me crazy. What does Bill have up his sleeve, if anything? Considering the amount of heavy-handed foreshadowing devoted to this exact topic, it had better be something. Eric begins to munch on Sookie’s jugular and she wakes up with a jolt. Jason has taken Tara breakfast in bed, slowly working up the guts to spill the beans about the murder of Eggs. Tara derails his intentions by batting her eyelashes and gushing how Jason has “been saving [her] since [she] was a little girl,” and they actually kiss for a few seconds before Tara realizes she’s made a mistake and begins to run out of the room with embarrassment. Before she gets too far, however, Jason blurts out rather impulsively, “I shot Eggs,” and Tara’s stunned silence evokes a deeper level of anguish than the loudest shriek ever could. She seemingly tries to keep her eyes from popping out of her skull, and runs out of the house. Jason begins to chase after her, but then makes the unfortunate discovery that Sookie has skipped town, leaving a completely uninformative note regarding her whereabouts.

While Jason begins to frantically look for Sookie, we find out she’s headed to Fangtasia to confront Eric about her dream and demands to know why she can’t trust Bill. Yeah! Before I can get too excited, however, Eric all but avoids the question and launches into a soggy proclamation about his imminent execution at the hands of Russell, and his inability to live with exiting the world without ever having really kissed Sookie Stackhouse. Whoa. Sookie tries her best to pretend she didn’t completely fall for that (nice try), but the kiss happens anyway, and it’s actually quite glorious in terms of fluffy True Blood anticipated romantic interludes. Pam, however, interrupts as her fabulous self walks into Eric’s office, drolly stating, “Blah, blah. Vampire emergency. Blah,” as her reason to lure Eric away from Sookie. An incredulous Pam is miffed Eric is purposely bypassing the opportunity to relieve himself of Russell’s ire – if Eric just handed Sookie over to Russell’s captivity, he would no longer have to fear for his life. Eric vehemently denies this option as a viable possibility, which hurts Pam’s feelings because she can’t believe Eric has such deep-rooted feelings for a human that would make him choose Pam, and his life, second. Sniff.

As for Russell, he’s separating himself farther and farther from sanity as we catch him propositioning a male prostitute in a dirty alleyway, Jar ‘O Talbot in tow. The young escort looks dubious at the glass urn of guts his prospective client is carrying with him, but seems to overlook all warning signs as the many faces of Benjamin Franklin are waved in his face. As Russell and his new companion lie next to each other in a seedy hotel room, Russell is clearly hallucinating the young man as Talbot, and talking to him as though he were still alive. The escort looks visibly, and understandably, terrified, but we then see him through Russell’s eyes as Talbot himself looks back and Russell says his final goodbye and stakes him through the heart. Yikes.

Despite his put-together appearance at work earlier in the day, Sam clearly hasn’t sorted through his issues, as he drunkenly stumbles through the woods and continues to reminisce his past. A return to 2003 is shown where the conniving blonde and her pistol-toting boyfriend are counting Sam’s stash by a campfire while a cute, inquisitive beagle looks on from a distance. As the pistol is set down on a tree stump, the beagle rushes toward the campfire and shifts into Sam (was that supposed to be a surprise?), then grabs the pistol and demands his money back. Bonnie and Clyde don’t acquiesce as quickly as Sam would like, and he begins to beat the real boyfriend within an inch of his life, showing similar lack of control as he did with Calvin. As the blonde screams for him to stop, Sam has no restraint and accidentally shoots her in the chest. Horrified, Sam feels he has no choice but to also kill the boyfriend, demonstrating a pattern of impulsive rage he’s clearly had problems processing for years. Turns out, Sam has more Mickens in him than we previously thought.

Back at Jason’s, Bill is livid Sookie has gone missing under Jason’s watch. Jason reminds Bill he knows as well as anyone that she’s going to do whatever she wants regardless of what her boyfriend or brother say – and, oh yeah, how dare Bill give him a hard time when he’s the one who almost killed her with his own two fangs. Tired of Bill’s nagging and using the opportunity to vent his pent-up frustration, Jason revokes his invitation to let Bill in the house, forcing him by the vampire code to back out the front door until Jason says otherwise. Jason, having a Suck it, Bill! look of satisfaction on his face, hears a strange sound in his bedroom and discovers a gorgeous (albeit glaringly CGI) black panther intently staring at him. Stunned, Jason’s only response as the panther shifts into Crystal (I’m glad this is finally getting somewhere, but again, was this supposed to be a surprise?) is a meek, whispered, “Mama.” My level of interest in Crystal has increased a hair, but will only remain on the up and up if most of her screen time is spent in panther form.

Back at Fangtasia, Eric has apparently found a new spring in his step after his conversation with Pam as he marches back into his office where a pouting Sookie begins to shout how he can’t just keep her prisoner if he feels like going somewhere without her. “Oh, yes I can,” Eric tartly replies as he flings her over his shoulders and chains her up in the basement. WHAT?! Oh, now I get it: “I Smell a Rat.” Indeed. Cut to black.

While I agree Eric’s change of heart is founded upon good timing now that Russell’s energy is surely focused on revenge after paying final respects to Talbot, I have to wonder what his motivation really is. His devotion to Pam is surely a factor, but one mustn’t forget he does have a deal with Nan and the AVL to kill Russell or he’ll have far bigger problems than a telepathic waitress in his basement. With only two episodes left in the season, so many loose ends remain I can’t imagine how everything could possibly be tied up in a couple of weeks. I’m anxious to see which storylines will be given the axe and which ones will be carried over into what is shaping up to be an intense Season Four. Villains don’t have a good track record on True Blood, given Rene’s death in Season One and Maryann’s long overdue demise in Season Two, but I’m hoping Russell Edgington breaks the pattern and sticks around Bon Temps for a while to come. With the paradigm between vampires and humans shifting so profoundly in the True Blood universe, I can’t imagine the character most responsible being killed off just as things get rolling – but, as we know, stranger things have happened in Bon Temps.

Season 3, Episode 10: I Smell a Rat (originally aired August 22, 2010)

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