Due South: An Invitation to Romance
Oct. 27th, 2007 09:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
truepennyDue South 1.18, "An Invitation to Romance"
Original airdate: April 6, 1995
Favorite line:
CLERK: You're marrying a deaf-mute Mountie and you didn't recognize him?
FRASER: Perhaps I can explain.
CLERK: If he's deaf-mute, why is he talking?
KATHERINE: Now you're criticizing the handicapped?
or:
BRIDAL SHOP OWNER: Are you Miss Burns' fiancé?
FRASER: No.
BRIDAL SHOP OWNER: You must be very pleased.
Spoilers.
I should say before I get going that I love screwball comedies, and that's exactly what "An Invitation to Romance" is. Katherine Hepburn (gosh, wonder if that's where KATHERINE BURNS got her name?) and Spencer Tracy all the way. So the fact that the episode doesn't really seem to fit--even in a series which considers continuity something honored in the breach rather than the observance--is something I am happy to forgive, and in fact I see a lot of ways in which it does fit, as long as you allow it to be its own thing, on a slightly AU track from the rest of the show.
The first and most important thing about this episode is to notice that Katherine is like Fraser. She has a persona which she uses to manipulate people and to avoid having to engage with them. Exactly the way Fraser does. We see Katherine manipulating people constantly throughout the episode (and, yes, it does make me want to shake her until her teeth rattle), and the fact that this episode is in some ways a companion piece to "Chicago Holiday" (witness the reappearance of Mrs. MacGuffin) kept this exchange in the back of my head:
FRASER: Ray.
RAY: No. We are eighteen floors up.
FRASER: [already in the garbage chute] Just hold your elbows out to the side. It'll slow your descent.
RAY: My descent? [shouting down the chute after Fraser] Fraser, you cannot go down there without backup! ... Ahhhhhhh, the most annoying man in the world.
[Ray climbs into the garbage chute]
Because the episode wants us to recognize that Fraser and Katherine are alike. It balances Katherine's very overt and aggressive manipulations against Fraser's passive-aggressive techniques:
RAY: Did I mention it was my day off?
FRASER: Several times. . . . The Consulate line is still busy.
RAY: I thought I did, but then I became confused when I found myself driving around delivering mail.
FRASER: Well, this isn't just mail, Ray. This is a highly sensitive Canadian government document.
RAY: Oh. You guys planning an invasion?
FRASER: Well, I'm not entirely sure. I think I may have said too much already.
RAY: Yeah, well, don't do it today, all right? Because I'm gonna be sitting on my couch enjoying the basketball game, and tip-off is in exactly five minutes.
FRASER: Seven Four Six West Lakeside Place. That wouldn't be on your way home, would it?
RAY: No.
[Cut to: the Riv pulling up in front of 746 W. Lakeside Place]
Fraser and Katherine can't get rid of each other because they're too much alike.
Another thing this episode plays with is Fraser's problems with the opposite sex. Of all the autonomic functions Fraser can control, the one thing he seems to be completely unable to regulate is his sexual magnetism (which, okay, not an autonomic function, but I bet Fraser wishes it were). The women in this episode cannot keep their eyes off him, which he (a.) uses without seeming to notice (the poor postal clerk), (b.) doesn't notice at all (the woman in line for a marriage license), (c.) is completely baffled by:
WOMAN: May I help you?
FRASER: Yes. I'm looking for a woman. [all women in earshot look hopeful] A particular woman. Her name is Miss Burns. Would you happen to know if she's here?
WOMAN: I haven't any idea. I don't work here.
FRASER: Then how could you possibly help me?
[She smirks.]
and (d.) is helpless against: Catherine's seduction.
It's very hard to get a read on Fraser's sexuality. He is certainly attracted to women (Victoria, QED--and the lovely moment in "The Deal" (DS 1.17) when both Fraser and Ray are so distracted by the lingerie shop owner's leather bustier that they get several feet down the sidewalk in the wrong direction), but all his physical encounters are notable for the fact that the woman is the aggressor, ranging from Tammy Markles way back in "Pizza and Promises" (DS 1.5) which is unmistakably Fraser as victim of sexual harassment, to Janet Morse in "The Bounty Hunter" (DS 3.6)--whom he seems to be genuinely attracted to. But every single time (Inspector Thatcher, Denny Scarpa, Katherine Burns, Victoria Metcalf, Frannie's pursuit of him, even the hug from Mrs. Gamez in "They Eat Horses, Don't They?"(DS 1.4)), it's the woman who takes the first step, the woman who grabs him, the woman who initiates the kiss. The woman who reaches out to take what she wants.
And Fraser can't say no.
He gets saved, again and again, by the intrusion of the A plot. "Oh thank god," he says in this episode, as Nigel's sawed-off shotgun blasts a hole in the motel room door. He can't extract himself; he seems to have no frame of reference for negotiating these situations, because Fraser's modus operandi in dealing with other people relies very heavily on the social contract. His particular brand of social engineering, at which he is--make no mistake--very very good, requires that his opponents be playing by the rules of etiquette. One reason, I suspect, that he's willing to ask Katherine to dance at the end is that dancing is a controlled form of physical contact, with rules and boundaries. He can't cope when people, like Katherine and like Frannie, demonstrate their complete willingness to run roughshod over the rules to get what they want. And the question of Fraser's desire . . .
Well, oddly enough, this episode has rather a lot to say about that, in an oblique and Fraserish fashion. We have a story about love:
FRASER: I thought I was in love once, and then later I thought maybe it was just an inner ear imbalance. We spent an evening snowed in on the side of a mountain watching the Northern Lights. It was probably the most romantic moment of my life. But in the end I realized I'd learned two things. The first is that it's easier to think you're in love than it is to accept that you're alone, and the second is that it's very easy to confuse love with subatomic particles bursting in the air. Well, I also learned I should have my ears checked more regularly.
(Is the woman in this story Victoria?)
And we have this discussion of Fraser's button:
KATHERINE: Tell me something, Constable. Why is it everywhere I go, disaster follows?
FRASER: Maybe it's the company you keep.
KATHERINE: I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?
FRASER: Well, I don't really know Nigel, so it wouldn't be fair for me--
KATHERINE: What is wrong with you? A man is trying to kill you. You're supposed to hate him. A woman throws herself at you, you're supposed to . . . you're supposed to do something.
FRASER: Miss Burns, you are engaged to be married.
KATHERINE: Are you always so good and honorable and perfect and . . . what the hell are you doing?
FRASER: It's just a loose thread. You wouldn't happen to have a pair of sciss--no, of course not.
KATHERINE: Just yank it off.
FRASER: Well, but the button might fall off.
KATHERINE: It's a button! Take a risk!
FRASER: All right. [He yanks the thread. The button comes off.] Huh.
KATHERINE. Don't you ever do anything reckless or stupid or wild?
FRASER: No. . . . Well, the . . . no.
Which of course is deliberately paralleled at the end of the episode, when the button doesn't fall off and Fraser goes in to ask Katherine to dance.
But there's a problem here, charming as the metaphor of Fraser's buttons is. And the problem is that risk-taking and romance are bad, bad news in the world of Due South. Victoria proves that. And even in this episode, risk-taking and romance have gotten Katherine engaged to a man who (a.) is trying to kill her and (b.) she doesn't love. The surface narrative, following the conventions of screwball comedy, is in direct opposition to what the episode is really trying to say. Following desire instead of duty never works. (See also "You Must Remember This" (DS 1.11).)
For a show that is generally as funny and clair as Due South, its underpinnings are bleak. It's easier to think you're in love than it is to accept that you're alone. Not one romantic relationship in the entire series is successful, and the only ones that have any staying power, that get mentioned repeatedly (an important marker in a show that isn't continuity-obsessed), are the catastrophes: Victoria and Stella.
Katherine wants to believe in romance, and the episode--and Fraser--humors her. But we know all along it isn't true.
Original airdate: April 6, 1995
Favorite line:
CLERK: You're marrying a deaf-mute Mountie and you didn't recognize him?
FRASER: Perhaps I can explain.
CLERK: If he's deaf-mute, why is he talking?
KATHERINE: Now you're criticizing the handicapped?
or:
BRIDAL SHOP OWNER: Are you Miss Burns' fiancé?
FRASER: No.
BRIDAL SHOP OWNER: You must be very pleased.
Spoilers.
I should say before I get going that I love screwball comedies, and that's exactly what "An Invitation to Romance" is. Katherine Hepburn (gosh, wonder if that's where KATHERINE BURNS got her name?) and Spencer Tracy all the way. So the fact that the episode doesn't really seem to fit--even in a series which considers continuity something honored in the breach rather than the observance--is something I am happy to forgive, and in fact I see a lot of ways in which it does fit, as long as you allow it to be its own thing, on a slightly AU track from the rest of the show.
The first and most important thing about this episode is to notice that Katherine is like Fraser. She has a persona which she uses to manipulate people and to avoid having to engage with them. Exactly the way Fraser does. We see Katherine manipulating people constantly throughout the episode (and, yes, it does make me want to shake her until her teeth rattle), and the fact that this episode is in some ways a companion piece to "Chicago Holiday" (witness the reappearance of Mrs. MacGuffin) kept this exchange in the back of my head:
FRASER: Ray.
RAY: No. We are eighteen floors up.
FRASER: [already in the garbage chute] Just hold your elbows out to the side. It'll slow your descent.
RAY: My descent? [shouting down the chute after Fraser] Fraser, you cannot go down there without backup! ... Ahhhhhhh, the most annoying man in the world.
[Ray climbs into the garbage chute]
Because the episode wants us to recognize that Fraser and Katherine are alike. It balances Katherine's very overt and aggressive manipulations against Fraser's passive-aggressive techniques:
RAY: Did I mention it was my day off?
FRASER: Several times. . . . The Consulate line is still busy.
RAY: I thought I did, but then I became confused when I found myself driving around delivering mail.
FRASER: Well, this isn't just mail, Ray. This is a highly sensitive Canadian government document.
RAY: Oh. You guys planning an invasion?
FRASER: Well, I'm not entirely sure. I think I may have said too much already.
RAY: Yeah, well, don't do it today, all right? Because I'm gonna be sitting on my couch enjoying the basketball game, and tip-off is in exactly five minutes.
FRASER: Seven Four Six West Lakeside Place. That wouldn't be on your way home, would it?
RAY: No.
[Cut to: the Riv pulling up in front of 746 W. Lakeside Place]
Fraser and Katherine can't get rid of each other because they're too much alike.
Another thing this episode plays with is Fraser's problems with the opposite sex. Of all the autonomic functions Fraser can control, the one thing he seems to be completely unable to regulate is his sexual magnetism (which, okay, not an autonomic function, but I bet Fraser wishes it were). The women in this episode cannot keep their eyes off him, which he (a.) uses without seeming to notice (the poor postal clerk), (b.) doesn't notice at all (the woman in line for a marriage license), (c.) is completely baffled by:
WOMAN: May I help you?
FRASER: Yes. I'm looking for a woman. [all women in earshot look hopeful] A particular woman. Her name is Miss Burns. Would you happen to know if she's here?
WOMAN: I haven't any idea. I don't work here.
FRASER: Then how could you possibly help me?
[She smirks.]
and (d.) is helpless against: Catherine's seduction.
It's very hard to get a read on Fraser's sexuality. He is certainly attracted to women (Victoria, QED--and the lovely moment in "The Deal" (DS 1.17) when both Fraser and Ray are so distracted by the lingerie shop owner's leather bustier that they get several feet down the sidewalk in the wrong direction), but all his physical encounters are notable for the fact that the woman is the aggressor, ranging from Tammy Markles way back in "Pizza and Promises" (DS 1.5) which is unmistakably Fraser as victim of sexual harassment, to Janet Morse in "The Bounty Hunter" (DS 3.6)--whom he seems to be genuinely attracted to. But every single time (Inspector Thatcher, Denny Scarpa, Katherine Burns, Victoria Metcalf, Frannie's pursuit of him, even the hug from Mrs. Gamez in "They Eat Horses, Don't They?"(DS 1.4)), it's the woman who takes the first step, the woman who grabs him, the woman who initiates the kiss. The woman who reaches out to take what she wants.
And Fraser can't say no.
He gets saved, again and again, by the intrusion of the A plot. "Oh thank god," he says in this episode, as Nigel's sawed-off shotgun blasts a hole in the motel room door. He can't extract himself; he seems to have no frame of reference for negotiating these situations, because Fraser's modus operandi in dealing with other people relies very heavily on the social contract. His particular brand of social engineering, at which he is--make no mistake--very very good, requires that his opponents be playing by the rules of etiquette. One reason, I suspect, that he's willing to ask Katherine to dance at the end is that dancing is a controlled form of physical contact, with rules and boundaries. He can't cope when people, like Katherine and like Frannie, demonstrate their complete willingness to run roughshod over the rules to get what they want. And the question of Fraser's desire . . .
Well, oddly enough, this episode has rather a lot to say about that, in an oblique and Fraserish fashion. We have a story about love:
FRASER: I thought I was in love once, and then later I thought maybe it was just an inner ear imbalance. We spent an evening snowed in on the side of a mountain watching the Northern Lights. It was probably the most romantic moment of my life. But in the end I realized I'd learned two things. The first is that it's easier to think you're in love than it is to accept that you're alone, and the second is that it's very easy to confuse love with subatomic particles bursting in the air. Well, I also learned I should have my ears checked more regularly.
(Is the woman in this story Victoria?)
And we have this discussion of Fraser's button:
KATHERINE: Tell me something, Constable. Why is it everywhere I go, disaster follows?
FRASER: Maybe it's the company you keep.
KATHERINE: I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?
FRASER: Well, I don't really know Nigel, so it wouldn't be fair for me--
KATHERINE: What is wrong with you? A man is trying to kill you. You're supposed to hate him. A woman throws herself at you, you're supposed to . . . you're supposed to do something.
FRASER: Miss Burns, you are engaged to be married.
KATHERINE: Are you always so good and honorable and perfect and . . . what the hell are you doing?
FRASER: It's just a loose thread. You wouldn't happen to have a pair of sciss--no, of course not.
KATHERINE: Just yank it off.
FRASER: Well, but the button might fall off.
KATHERINE: It's a button! Take a risk!
FRASER: All right. [He yanks the thread. The button comes off.] Huh.
KATHERINE. Don't you ever do anything reckless or stupid or wild?
FRASER: No. . . . Well, the . . . no.
Which of course is deliberately paralleled at the end of the episode, when the button doesn't fall off and Fraser goes in to ask Katherine to dance.
But there's a problem here, charming as the metaphor of Fraser's buttons is. And the problem is that risk-taking and romance are bad, bad news in the world of Due South. Victoria proves that. And even in this episode, risk-taking and romance have gotten Katherine engaged to a man who (a.) is trying to kill her and (b.) she doesn't love. The surface narrative, following the conventions of screwball comedy, is in direct opposition to what the episode is really trying to say. Following desire instead of duty never works. (See also "You Must Remember This" (DS 1.11).)
For a show that is generally as funny and clair as Due South, its underpinnings are bleak. It's easier to think you're in love than it is to accept that you're alone. Not one romantic relationship in the entire series is successful, and the only ones that have any staying power, that get mentioned repeatedly (an important marker in a show that isn't continuity-obsessed), are the catastrophes: Victoria and Stella.
Katherine wants to believe in romance, and the episode--and Fraser--humors her. But we know all along it isn't true.
