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Vulture

Edited by Dan Kois & Lane Brown

 

Overnights

10/16/07

3:32 PM

‘Weeds’: Everything’s Great! No, Wait, It’s Not!

It is milky.Photo: Courtesy of Showtime

Everyone: Nancy is loaded again! One hundred grand, a lifetime of pension checks: Peter Scottson’s death really paid off. Last night our protagonist sucked down cherry Slurpees and played Wii tennis as her team of dealers reeled in the frat boys, Christian ladies, and revelers at the local water park. Sweet suburban bliss.

Of course, we were reminded that there's much to be concerned with in Nancy's future. The Scottson bonanza was delivered via a red herring this big: The police called Nancy in to “give her what she’s had coming for a long time.” Inside the station, a policewoman eyed her suspiciously and whispered, “That's her”; the detective said, “I have questions,” as if he planned an interrogation — then completely absolved her of any involvement in Scottson’s death and freed her from all financial responsibility until the end of her days.

Once the herring was dispatched with, though, the sharks started circling. Nancy’s new BFF, Peter’s ex-wife, wants the dough to pay her rent. Ex-councilman Doug, facing jail time, needs it to replace the town money he embezzled and then squandered. If only there were enough to go around — Nancy's ready to give it up. Is this an attempt to show that our drug queen, murderess-by-association, and frequently neglectful mother is truly a selfless being just trying to get by? Or is it merely a plot turn?

The last scene didn't exactly support the Selfless Basket Case theory. As Celia, done up in a red negligee and carrying cupcakes, looked on, Nancy allowed her milky-skinned self to be ravaged by the gross cheater Sullivan. As awful as Celia continues to be, Nancy’s complete disregard for her had us a little gape-mouthed. We suspect the disaster in store may be more emotional than physical, in the form of juicy frenemy scenes in which Nancy finally admits that she does need other women, not just her crew of goofy male loyalists. Imagine Six Feet Under’s Brenda brunching with Carrie Bradshaw. —Emma Pearse

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