Scandal Review: “Baby Made a Mess” (4×07)

Let's get the record straight immediately: I am all about this episode of Scandal.

“Baby Made a Mess” feels like a direct response to my biggest criticism of the season (and the series) to date, which is that the show has leaned too heavily on Olivia's romantic life at the expense of her professional life. Well, in short order this episode takes that criticism, ingests it, and throws it right back at the audience.

Most obviously, the episode does this by pitting Olivia directly against her father, allowing her (or anyone, really) to for once outsmart Rowan. That the narrative reaches this point through Olivia's own agency, through her co-opting of her father's tactics, and through her successful attempt at bringing the two dumb men in her life into the same room, is really tremendous. Olivia Pope is on point this week, and the result is by far the best, most exciting episode of Scandal so far this season. This is an episode that demonstrates in turn each of the show's best qualities, one after the other. The “case of the week” is Susan Ross's campaign for Virginia's Senate seat, which Olivia quite literally marches into and takes over. Everything to do with Ross is funny and witty, but not at the expense of showcasing Olivia's skills as a political operative, often spoken about but not of late seen. The campaign ad she devises featuring Ross's daughter is brilliant, a simple, elegant, and effective solution to the problem of Ross's ill-suitedness for the camera. In other words it is quintessential Olivia Pope.

And of course there is the scene that Kerry Washington shares this week with Joe Morton, which is easily their best dramatic encounter to date. Morton's monologues are fantastic regardless of their context, but here, the speech serves doubly as a much-needed wake-up call for Olivia. In fact, that wake-up call may come even earlier, in her conversation with Tom, who by this point is little more than Rowan's proxy. Upon first watch, my reaction to Olivia's interrogation with Tom was not kind—it instantly becomes about Fitz and Jake, about positioning Olivia as an object of desire between them. It's not until the episode ends that we realize the show isn't positioning Olivia as an object at all; it's allowing her to break free. He remarks on her beauty. He calls her “Helen of Troy, the face that launched a thousand ships,” and while it's super overwrought (even if in an appropriately Scandalesque way), it also succeeds in turning what until now has been a shortcoming of the season into a strength. Tearing a page out of Rowan's playbook, she forces Tom to confess, and uses the truth as a weapon to finally get Fitz and Jake into the same room, and onto the same page as she is. No more who-will-she-choose? No more Team Fitz and Team Jake. Just Olivia Pope, kicking ass and taking names. Finally.

The rest of the episode supports this newly rediscovered feminist streak, as well. There's a meaty B-plot for Abby, as her ex-husband Chip Putney turns up in the Virginia race as well, as Fitz's favored candidate. Putney himself is a bit of a cartoon—the scene in the parking garage is extremely over the top, like a Lifetime movie rendition of domestic abuse—but Darby Stanchfield turns in a hell of a performance, ranging from physical comedy to outright drama, even embracing the melodrama of that parking garage bit as she levels a gun at Putney. While it would be justifiable to take issue with the notion that, at the end of the day, the problem is solved not through Abby's own action but by Leo, there's still plenty of agency in Abby's decision to tell Leo the truth. Further, Olivia takes on the Ross campaign solely as a way to defeat Putney for Abby's sake. I'm not sure if the show got enough mileage out of Olivia and Abby being at odds, and in fact they used it mainly as an excuse for the characters to snipe at each other in full-on Mean Girls fashion, and so in this episode especially, it's great to see them friends again, supporting each other not just romantically but professionally, even if the two are still pretty deeply entwined.

And then there is Mellie Grant. Her long mourning has ended, and it's astonishing and revealing to see just how quickly Fitz changes his tune as a result. What, exactly, did he think he was asking for when he bemoaned Drunk Mellie and Smelly Mellie and all the other forms that Mellie's grief took on, and asked for the “real” Mellie to come back? Because the real Mellie is back now, in full force, and that Mellie is a woman who is not content to curate china patterns and play housewife to the most powerful man in the world. Real Mellie wants that power, too, and, emboldened by Bitsy Cooper as well as by Lizzie Thompson, she's going to grab at it posthaste. Bellamy Young is never anything short of amazing, and in just a few scenes here, she completely turns around the character, selling the audience fully on this transformation, and the reasons for it. When she answers Fitz's phone and lets him know that it's Olivia calling for him, there's a spark in her eyes and an edge to her voice, not the shrill jealousy of a few episodes ago, but the knowledge that her husband is weak, and she is strong. That's the kind of development I want to see more of on this show.

So, then, what “Baby Made a Mess” is more than anything else is a re-statement of this show's feminist objective, one that in the wake of the past several episodes was sorely needed, and is extremely welcome. The episode is not without its flaws: Huck's story, for instance, is still too isolated to carry much weight, and yet, if more time was spent on it, it would only draw more attention to how very creepy it is for Huck to be catfishing his son. The melodrama is amped up just slightly too much at times, as well. That “Helen of Troy” metaphor loses its luster after being repeated seventeen times, and the episode's closing sequence, with the pounding music and the montage full of smash cuts (hey, that's the name of the site!) is a bit much. I haven't mentioned the Winslow conspiracy, either, mainly because it's still bubbling, not very interestingly, in the background, and like Huck's plotline, it feels appended on, rather than an integral part of the show. But these are small concerns—what is integral to the show is its central women, and this episode both reaffirms Olivia and Mellie's feminism in that regard, and fully adds Abby to their ranks as well. That it does this while also running on high-octane excitement is an achievement, and a promising sign of things to come. More of this, please.

Stray Observations:

• Despite whatever problems the resolution to Abby's story may carry, I like the idea of her and Leo, and their scene in the pressroom is a nice contrast to the horrors of Abby's previous romantic engagement with Putney. The actors have good chemistry, and, on Scandal especially, a non-toxic romance is a breath of fresh air.
• Speaking of toxic romances, Cyrus plants a trap for Michael, and at first he seems to confirm that Michael is not the leak, before, at the worst possible moment, confirming that he in fact is. The other shoe, I can see it dropping even now.
• The notable event of the Winslow conspiracy this week is that Winslow shoots himself in the head in front of Quinn. It's nice to see she can still be rattled by something. Quinn and Huck also finally bring Olivia in the loop on the photos of her that Winslow was keeping, but nothing more amounts from that yet.
• “The woman could sell a dual ticket of Hitler and Bin Laden.” Pretty much, yeah.
• Susan Ross is played by Artemis Pebdani of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, in case you, like me, were going crazy trying to figure out where you knew her from. It's more than a little odd to see her playing such a “normal” role, given how batshit insane the character of Artemis is.