Parenthood Review: “Let’s Go Home” (6×11)

As Parenthood draws to a close, its aims of a work of fiction haven't really changed, but they have come into sharper focus. There is a scene late in this week's episode, the aptly titled “Let's Go Home,” where Zeek and Camille return to the old house to retrieve an old souvenir baseball. (First, just consider that enough time has passed for the Braverman house to become “the old house”.) They're greeted with the sight of a young boy frolicking in the yard with his dog, and a fresh coat of paint in a color Camille never would have thought of. Life goes on, and we adapt and rebuild. They leave without with baseball, without even going inside.

“Let's Go Home” is very much concerned with ideas of belonging, of going forward or going backward but keeping “home” in your sights regardless. It's a more typical episode of the series than “How Did We Get Here?” in terms of structure, and it's a stronger episode for that. Characters are paired off as usual, splintering away into their own stories, with no physical focal point such as the hospital, or even a family dinner, to anchor them to each other.

That turns out to be a good thing. Last week's efforts to tie everything physically to the crisis over Zeek's health meant that anything that moved away from that became a distraction. This week, the clan is allowed to sprawl as far away as they need to; home is an idea, not a place.

If the project of Parenthood is portraying this family unit as together and cohesive, through thick and thin, always and forever, then “Let's Go Home” is largely an episode that puts those pieces into a place for a final statement on a theme in the coming weeks. The series is not reinventing the wheel at this point, nor does it need to. I loved this episode; it's one of my favorites of the season. (Yes, even the business with the Luncheonette.)

Much of the episode is about characters building things or fixing things. You first notice this when the show smacks you over the head with it—Amber and Sarah can't figure out how to put together the crib that absent dad Seth mailed. But soon a pattern emerges throughout the episode, of characters sitting on the floor together, wondering how to rebuild the fragmented or simply forgotten pieces of their lives. Julia and Sarah do strange-looking crunches on the grass and weight the pros and cons of getting back together with Joel, or of saying yes to Hank's proposal. Adam and Crosby wonder whether to go out on a limb for a shared dream, or to play it safe by giving up. Sarah and Hank sit by the finished crib and map out the next phase of their lives, together.

It should come as no surprise that in every instance, Parenthood endorses risk taking, endorses reunion, endorses any course of action that brings the Bravermans together. It's the same drum that the show has been beating all this time, and to its credit, it hasn't really gotten old. What sets this episode apart is its slightly different variation on this enduring theme. Parenthood has spent a fair amount of time now disassembling its various parts, a fact that is much more obvious in retrospect than it was as it was happening. Whether it's Kristina's battle with cancer, Adam losing his job, Zeek facing death, Julia contemplating divorce, Amber getting pregnant—the ties that bind the Bravermans have frayed but have not broken. With the end in sight, there is no longer a need to continue testing those ties—now the show can purely celebrate and reinforce them.

The result is a sweet and refreshing take on the usual Parenthood schmaltz (which I say with nothing but love.) It's what gives us scenes like the unexpectedly romantic kiss on the ice between Julia and Joel, whose reunion just two weeks ago was my most dreaded outcome of the season. Their tentative steps toward fixing their marriage had a lightness of touch this week that is a gigantic benefit to the story, making it a delight to watch.

Even the Luncheonette story was not totally unbearable! I'll quibble with Adam a little bit this week; after Zeek plainly tells him that Crosby is an adult and can handle the business on his own, Adam goes and continues to tell Crosby that, since Adam wants to back out, its lights out for the studio. Adam is the worst. But the situation with the Luncheonette this week leads to the best use of Crosby in some time, giving him something to be legitimately serious about, and creating a final test of faith for the rest of his family; instead of bemoaning his continued arrested development, I'm excited to see Crosby (presumably) rise to the challenge.

“Let's Go Home” is more heartwarming than heart wrenching, which is a fine change of pace for the series in the home stretch. It's one of the season's finer hours, one that's sure to leave you with a smile plastered onto your face. You'd have to have a heart of stone not to be moved by Sarah's “yes” to Hank, or by Joel's admittedly smooth moves in regaining Julia's love and trust. This almost aggressively optimistic mode is one that only works when the question of future stories is removed, but it works well indeed, and it makes these final hours with Bravermans a well-earned pleasure.

Stray Observations:

• I was thinking how hilarious it would have been there was some tragic family secret hidden away on those rolls of film, but it turned out they're actually the opening credits, which is even more hilarious.
• I'm happy Jasmine gets to do something here, even if it is just prop Crosby up.
• Semi-regular praise for Monica Potter again, who is so, so good. Her face after Adam tells her about Jasmine's visit is running through eighteen different emotions simultaneously and they are all captivating.
• “I prefer actual silence to Aunt Sarah's voice.” Max returns with a vengeance this week.
• Chris gets thrown under a bus this week without so much as a goodbye. Chris, we hardly knew you.
• He was always a cute kid, but this is the first time I've actually thought to myself that Miles Heizer grew up pretty fine. (Maybe it's the haircut.)