And then. Finally. The statue. A story that's going somewhere! Then it was all bang---bang---bang: a whole series of scenes centering on the statue, and all the other rootless scenes from earlier are falling into their places in the scheme of things. Except for the varnishing the door bit, that kind of got lost. They had a great momentum going right up through the chip fat scene, with Peter's scathing last words, "Don't Liam. Just don't."
After that, though, it was like the loss of air pressure which occurs in the wake of a jet airplane. We finish up the Eamonn storyline (but not the Con Casey one), Brendan and Siobhan ponder oil, Padraig is welcomed back to the fold. No great surprises there. OK, there was the birth scene, which I admit was very emotional, but it was very detached from the rest of the episode.
So, in summation, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I liked the sweating statue plot but not the rest of the episode. And here's why...
The plots in this episode were:
The Sweating Statue
Con Casey
The Way Of The Phoenix
The Chips Van
Niamh's Pregnancy
The contrast between the two priests's responses to the sweat incident was very revealing. Peter was sure from the get-go that the "sweat" was not really sweat, and wanted to get to the bottom of the matter by scientific means. Father Mac didn't care one way or the other, really, what was going on with the statue, but he saw an opportunity and seized on it. This is not to say that he tried to get any personal advantage out of the situation. On the contrary, he made a lot of extra work for himself to "channel this idle curiosity to proper devotion". Yes, he also wanted those collection boxes strategically placed, but again that money doesn't go to him. His utmost goal is the promotion of the Church, which to him means numbers. More attendees at Mass, more money in the collection box, more publicity in the local papers, that is his agenda. Father Mac is canny, but not cynical, and certainly not crooked.
Peter, on the other hand, is cynical to the core. He not only doesn't believe that the sweat on the statue is real, he doesn't want to believe it; he is utterly incapable of belief. Even if the lab report had come back that the substance was 'a saline solution of electrolytes' (sweat), Peter would have asked for a DNA analysis to pinpoint the source. What if Maggie had seen the persistent image of the Virgin Mary in the wood grain of the pews she was cleaning? What if Eamonn insisted that St Anthony had stolen into his barn during the night and healed his pigs when Siobhan refused to treat them? Would Peter have poo-pooed those events, too?
Assumpta wasn't actually that far off when she scoffed, "That's a bit rich coming from you, considering what you claim to do, on a daily basis, up there on the altar". She was of course talking about the Catholic doctrine of transsubstantiation, in which the bread and wine substantially become the flesh and blood of Christ during the sacrament of the eucharist. This transformation also cannot be scientifically verified; in fact, sacramental bread and wine retain, as far as we are able to tell with the tools at our disposal today, the physical and chemical properties of ordinary bread and wine (same smell, taste, and molecular structure). Nevertheless, it is a central dogma of Catholicism, and one of the very basic issues that separate it from Protestant Christianity. If Peter can swallow that, why is it such a big leap to sweat on statues? I think that Peter would like to say that his basic beef is with idolatry, that he draws the line when people start to anthropomorphocize (see human characteristics in) inanimate objects, but I think it goes much deeper than that. Look at his face, his entire bodily response when Father Mac insists that he is open to the possibility of the sweat being real. That was revulsion. The thought that supernatural events can happen is deeply disturbing to Peter, at a gut level. I think that Peter's response to Assumpta's dig was so vehement for that very same reason: it (the transsubstantiation) was an issue that he had avoided really thinking about, since he was afraid of what he might end up thinking about it. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but look, a little later, when he's had a chance to calm down and think about things, he admits that Assumpta was right, and that, "Right at this moment, I'm not sure what I believe in. People. Me. You."
And that's the point at which we got the most gorgeous stomach-flipping moment in the whole episode: the way he said 'you' to Assumpta (meaning he wasn't sure what he thought about her), and the searching look they both indulged in. Assumpta is also very afraid of what she thinks about him. More on that when we get to Kilnashee.
I also thought Padraig was wrong to interfere with the land deal like
he did. As Brian said, "Listen, O'Kelley, I build houses. I'm a useful
person in the community unlike some. I'm allowed to buy land wherever I
like." And if Eamonn was willing to sell his two godforsaken acres
to Brian Quigley for tuppence, that's his business. It's not like Eamonn
was dropped on his head and can't take care of his own affairs. He knows
the value of his land, and I believe that Brian made him a fair offer.
It was nice to have a little zen in this otherwise Catholic-dominated episode. Which philosophy makes more sense? Reinventing oneself for the millenium, or gawking at a statue with 'sweat' (whatever the chemical makeup may be) on its forehead? On the other hand, I'm not sure how healthy it was for Padraig's karma to pursue Brian like he did. He only elbowed his way into the land deal between Eamonn and Brian as revenge for Brian's having axed his two-liner about the sale. Big deal. In the big picture, he lost himself what might have been a promising start on a new career. Hey, Isaac Bashevis Singer started out writing pulp at a small Yiddish paper in New York. Stuff like "Man Divorces Wife to Take Her as Lover". I kid you not. "Ballykay Female in Near Death Experience" starts to sound highbrow.
Seriously, Padraig is a man who is truly embarking on the way of the
phoenix, although he doesn't know it yet. At the moment, he is still the
adult bird, but he will soon crash and burn all over Series 4. Yet from
his own ashes he will rise again, leaving his nest in Ballykissangel and
striking out on his own.
The thing I liked about this story was it showcased Liam as an imaginative and self-assured entrepreneur. The thing I didn't like about it was that Liam came off as callous, heretical, and utterly unscrupulous. I was very uncomfortable with his unrepentant response to Peter's accusations, and especially his insistence that Father Mac would have done the very same thing (broken into the church and tampered with the statue) "if he'd thought of it first". He most certainly would not have! Donal at least was contrite and apologetic, and not just for having mixed up the bottles. But Liam kept pushing it, even going so far as to try, for the second time, to bribe Peter into turning a blind eye to the entire scheme. I don't think that Liam has no conscience. At least I don't want to think that of him. Even Brian, from whom I am sure Liam is supposed to have learned his business ethics, has a great respect for the Church and its servants.
Oh, and, by the way, Liam and Donal were not producing Pringles for
the masses. Chips are fries and crisps are chips. Biscuits are cookies
and fairy cakes are cupcakes. Maize is corn and porridge is oatmeal. Pudding
is dessert and jelly is jello. You say tomato, I say tomato.
Even though Niamh was the one giving birth, this story was all about Ambrose. He may have forgotten to fill up the petrol tank (which would also have come in handy if he'd been pursuing a suspect down the N11), he may have fainted at the sight of the doll's head emerging from the red knit hat in antenatal class, he may have paled at the thought of depositing his mother at the airport, but he was totally masterful in the car. Listen to how steady and controlled his voice was. "I have a woman giving birth beside me here in the car...Yes, I do, as it happens, it's my wife." He even remembered to say "over" at the end of the transmission. What a rock. Way better than my husband, who literally cowered behind a curtain when I pushed our second child out into the cold harsh world. (He'd seen the first one come out and that was enough of that, in his book.) But I digress.
Once again, I was impressed by how whiny and spoiled Niamh is. Oh poor little Niamhy. Someone's come to cook and clean for you. There are women who have to work twelve hour days in the fields under appalling conditions right up until the day they give birth. Do you think they'd roll their eyes and pout if their mother-in-law made them a bowl of porridge? There are women living in war zones who can't set foot out of their house for fear of getting blown to bits. Do you think they would have put up a fuss if they had gotten to go out to a nice restaurant with their mother-in-law?
Finally, as I was pondering what in the world this story had to do with the rest of the episode, it occurred to me that the birth of the baby was supposed to remind us of the birth of Jesus. If you look carefully at the final scene, you will notice a shooting star in the sky, which is also reminiscent of the star which led the wise men to Bethlehem. I'm not saying that Kieran (the baby, not the series creator) is meant to be any sort of Christ figure, just that these reminders are an interesting counterpoint to the hoopla surrounding the sweating statue. Both Peter and Father Mac, in their opposing yet equally narrow-minded stances, seem to have lost sight of the truth they are supposed to represent, which is that Jesus Christ is God incarnate. He lived among us, taught us, suffered for us, and died at our hands, both to be our perfect exemplar and to atone for our sins, so that we might enter into the kingdom of heaven. The rest is immaterial.
What do you think they used to make Niamh's face all sweaty during the birthing scene? Corn oil or sunflower?
Tools pointed at people: 2 (knife and screwdriver)
Mime incidents: 2 (Peter and Peter/Fr Mac)
Grammar police:
Occurences of "who" that should be "whom":
2
Subject/verb disagreement: 5
Vehicles featuring prominently in this episode: 4
Most obscure reference: "Chapter 2, from Little Acorns"
Random Irish-sounding names used for characters that didn't have actual roles: Clem Curly, Mally Kilmorry, Morasha Grainy
Peter bites his nails when he frets.
Con Casey and Brian Quigley last saw each other thirty years ago. We
know from a previous episode (1.3
Live
In My Heart And Pay No Rent) that Brian is 43, maybe 44 by now.
30 years ago would have made him 14 back then. A bit young to have been
running scams, but I suppose it's within the realm of possibility.
I thought it was Minto.
2. Liam: Now I've often come out of confession with my heart heaving and I've thought to meself, God, I'd murder a burger this very second.
The way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
3. Brian: Well, it's not my fault that your mother-in-law
is a pain.
Niamh: Nothing's ever your
fault, is it, Dad?
Yeah, Brian, why can't you just shut up and rub Imelda's feet? Then we'd all be happy.
4. Brian: Lourdes's different.
Padraig: How?
Brian: Well Lourdes has
sun and wine. And an eighteen hole golf course.
I think Brian's just had another brilliant idea!
5. Peter: Well simple isn't the same as stupid, Assumpta.
Stupid is as stupid does...I may not be a smart man, but I know what love is, Jenny.
6. Padraig: The bidder formerly known as Quigley.
7. Michael: It's too late for talk. We need action here, I'm afraid, Ambrose.
Ambrose going into action? I'm afraid, too.
8. Michael: The substance on the brow of the statue is an aggregation of globules of stearic polyunsaturates.
You know Michael savoured that moment.
9. Peter: Chip fat! You put chip fat on the statue!
Liam: Sorry about that Father,
it was meant to be washing up liquid.
Oh, well, in that case...no harm done.