If I could write this whole recap with emoji, there'd be several varieties of
hearts, the running man, the dancing woman, and lots and lots of fires and
heart-eyed faces. Those creepy dancing twin girls would also make an appearance.
And there'd be a gun.
My imaginary emoji recap is appealing because it's incredibly hard to come
away from a blockbuster hour of television like "Chapter Forty-Four" and pull
together coherent thoughts that aren't just "AHHH!" or "WHY would you get ICE
for the DAMN CHAMPAGNE?!" or "OMG FACE OFF MASK!" or "Why isn't all of life just
Jane and Rogelio doing that father/daughter dance forever?" But I'll give it a
try.
Jane the Virgin's season finale is a narrative fireworks display, a
shock-and-awe storytelling spectacular that short-circuits emotional processing
centers with blazing confidence. It drops jaws and crushes hearts and brings
tears and also includes a pun so joyously dumb that I sat up on my sofa and
started slow clapping.
The episode's success is partially due to a built-in feature of Jane the
Virgins's genre, and of the show's own self-restraint earlier in the season.
Telenovelas thrive on big, brash, bold, peel-off-the-mask moments, but if the
density of face-burning epiphanies gets too high, they lose their punch. Jane
made the choice to tone down a lot of those big moments throughout its second
season. Oh sure, there's Anezka … and Derek's blackmailing … and Michael's dead
partner … and the whole bit with the chip inside his leg. But throughout the
season's back half, the crime lord plot has been clunking in the background,
limping along on man-scarves and the occasional hint of lurking evil.
Now, at last, that pent-up energy is allowed to bust out into the open,
fizzing and flying through the last 15 minutes of this finale like a genie that
had been trapped in a bottle. Luisa, fresh from rehab, assures Rafael that he
will be able to find love again — after all, she did it with Susannah. The
wicked, clever cruelty of Rose smugly telling Susannah that she's loved one
person all along is delicious, and it also deepens Jane the Virgin's commitment
to Luisa as a tragic character. Similarly, the unbelievable pain of seeing Petra
enjoy her daughter's first laugh (and also one of the episode's best
laugh-out-loud lines — "Baby has your sense of humor, laughing at others'
tears!") before Anezka slips her the syringe completes Petra's heartbreaking
transformation from villainy to tragedy.
Jane's telenovela plotting aside, "Chapter Forty-Four" works because of the
glorious wedding sequence, which hits all the right emotional notes and
ping-pongs assuredly between tearfulness and laughter. It begins with relatively
cheerful, low-key mayhem — Mateo walking, Rogelio and Xiomara fighting, a
knocked-out priest — moves into touching warmth as Jane and Michael run through
a seriously romantic itemized list of marriage discussion topics, and finally
sparks into a charming dash down the aisle, after Jane runs to a ridiculous
last-minute thesis meeting in the final hours before her wedding. This total
absurdity allows Professor Donaldson to throw one last punch while buttoning
Jane into her dress ("I feel like I'm locking you into the patriarchy as I do
this,") and it lands Jane and Rogelio on a city bus, 17 long stops away from the
church as the wedding is scheduled to begin.
Once Jane finally arrives, the wedding is everything a Jane fan could ask
for, along with several things I didn't even know to want. Rafael swallows his
feelings (on Luisa's well-meaning but unexpectedly misinformed advice) and
refrains from telling Jane he loves her. The Catholic ceremony is respectfully
traditional, in a way that feels true to this show's desire to blend
progressivism with custom. After a supportive nod from Alba, Michael gave his
vows in Spanish — and yes, that was the point when I cried a little. The moment
was immediately followed by delighted, crowing laughter: Jane and Michael are
declared man and wife, and the church choir kicks up a roof-busting rendition of
"Go Have Sex, Jane!"
The reception is pure, Rogelio-inspired fantasy. Bruno Mars gets his act
together and RSVPs so that he can give Michael and Jane a dreamy,
celebrity-enhanced first dance. Jane and Rogelio's father/daughter dance is an
unadulterated distillation of the happy end of Jane the Virgin's emotional
register, swinging instantaneously from gleeful tears to pumped-up synchronized
awesomeness. I was not ready for this. And how could I have been? It's so
dazzlingly fun, it's hard to even look at directly.
All in all, Jane's ceremony and reception goes much more smoothly than Alba's
did — a wedding, we learn, that disintegrated into a brawl when someone revealed
Alba's relationship with Pablo Alonso Segura in the middle of the ceremony. It
even heals some of the rift between Xiomara and Rogelio, who still love each
other, but simply cannot resolve their differences.
That may well change next season, though, as Esteban's Extra-Firm, Extra-Long
Este-buns have done their work far too well: The finale's best candidate for
"Plot Revelation That Got Buried By Everything That Came Next" is Xiomara
discovering that she's pregnant. Eep!
And so, it's the moment of truth. Jane and Michael, desperate to follow the
Virgin Mary's direct advice to Get It On, decide against driving to a Motel 6.
But in a scene instantly recognizable to anyone who's seen a horror movie,
Michael decides to leave the room. For ice. There in the hallway, after a
throwaway reference to Alabama football, we learn that Michael's partner
Susannah is not who she says she is, and she SHOOTS MICHAEL IN THE CHEST.
Because SHE WAS SIN ROSTRO THIS WHOLE TIME.
I have to give full credit to Jane the Virgin. I absolutely knew this was
coming, in some shape or another. In spite of that, this twist was completely
stunning. To be clear, though: There is no corpse, there is no funeral, and this
is a telenovela. We cannot say for sure that Michael Cordero is dead, and it
seems reasonable to hope that's not the case. Let's remember: Mateo's kidnapping
presented a huge challenge at the beginning of season two, and Jane handled it
remarkably well. By withholding full confirmation of Michael's death, the show
gets to forestall some of that inter-season hand-wringing a little bit — but if
I know Jane, no resolution to this story will be fast or easy, and that is
tragedy enough in itself. I had really hoped the title of this show would become
winkingly nostalgic. Alas.
For now, this ending sequence packs an hour of feeling into three minutes of
story. It's dizzying and horrifying and great. If Michael is really dead, I'm
going to be really, really sad. He's been a great character, a surprisingly
excellent love-triangle participant, an immensely lovable Perfect Man, and a
great break-dancer.
To Be Continued … but not until the fall! DIOS MIO!
From Our Narrator, With Love:
For a brief second, I looking away from the final moments of this episode:
Everything is the #Petrafied pun and nothing hurts. And also if you haven't read
or heard this NPR feature on Anthony Mendez, the voice of Our Beloved Narrator,
do not deprive yourself any longer.
Mateo can walk! "Behold the most amazing and coordinated boy in human
history!"
"Rafael's family drama had recently taken a turn for the bonkers."
As Jane and Michael kiss: "Oh my God. Sorry. Gosh. [sniff] I just can't
believe it actually happened."
#Rogelio:
Rogelio is in full Bluetooth-yelling, Rolls-Royce-burning, make-up-blotting,
father-of-the-bride splendor — and on top of everything else, he's obviously
responsible for putting Mateo in a lavender son-of-the-bride onesie. GREAT JOB!
#hisbigday #everyboysdream
"Tell Bruno Mars if he doesn't confirm, I am cutting him from the lineup!
Yes, I know he played the Super Bowl. Tell him this is the Super Bowl of
weddings!"
"Why. Do. You. Have. A. Sex. Basket. From. My. Mortal. Enemy."
Rogelio announces Bruno Mars: "And now, for your first dance, I would like to
introduce my third-best friend in the world!"
