Previously, on Sons of Anarchy: “Season 6”
Welcome to the final season of Sons of Anarchy. True to form, the first episode builds slowly and there are a lot of chess pieces on the board. Needless to say, it’s not going to stay that way for long. Nobody has ever been safe, but this season, the question isn’t who will die but who will be left. So strap on your leather boots and get ready for a rough ride.
The episode opens with a musical montage to “Never My Love” reviewing where everyone is, 10 days after Tara was found dead: Jax is carving a swastika into some dude in jail and pulling out his eye teeth, Gemma and the happy hookers are raising the kids, Juice is doing naked pushups (not a figure of speech), Lyla is reopening the porn studio (new name: Red Woody Inc.), Wendy is packing her bags in rehab, Wayne is planting flowers on Tara’s grave, and Nero and the Mayans are together.
Jax offers the eye teeth to Marilyn Manson (Tully) as a peace offering to the Aryan Brotherhood, hoping that when Tully is transferred to Stockton, he can influence his people to stop running up against the Sons for associating with the Grim Bastards, again pushing that the “dark brothers” are powerful allies. Tully agrees. CCH Pounder tells Jax that they can’t keep holding him, so he’s out. She admits her motivation comes from similar loss, but it sounds ridiculous in comparison to the level of violence he’s capable of committing.
Wendy, Wayne, and Juice
Wendy being Wendy checks herself out of rehab to help with the boys, finding her apartment completely rearranged including the most OCD pantry and fridge in history, thanks to naked Juice, whom she tries to throw out but she doesn’t want dead Juice on her hands. Jax agrees to the Helpful Wendy plan because he’s planning Shit and can’t be bothered. Gemma stops by Wendy’s to give Juice a pep talk about leaving, which he’s delayed since his money’s tied up in weed. “I’m not a psychopath, Juice,” Gemma says, preaching her usual sermon that they did it for the club and that she is the only thread holding their world together. He gives her the adoring baby smile that keeps me up at night wondering what sick, twisted plan Sutter has for his death, and Sutter knows this, which is why he keeps putting it off.
CCH Pounder visits Wayne at the shop, trying to recruit him as a consultant for the new sheriff, Althea Jarry, who oversaw organized crime at Stockton. He’s all, “As if!” And she’s all, “Great, I’ll tell her yes.” He does look a little chuffed. Then he picks Wendy up for babysitting duty, noting the fridge full of perfectly lined up produce, the cold groceries on the counter she doesn’t put away, and a black bag in the closet, so naturally he breaks back in later to check it out because Wayne is Wayne, and Juice is forced to take him hostage. It would be ironic if a man dying of cancer outlived everyone, but it’s not looking good.
The Mayans have a new plan to move more product by water, and Nero is liaising to the Sons, although Oso is worried about divided loyalties. All Nero really wants is for everyone to get along and wear manly Dad Sweaters, is that so wrong? Anyway, everyone keeps telling Gemma and Nero that they miss each other like they’re in middle school and when they finally kiss while setting up the Porn Party (see below), Chuck and the hookers get all giggly. He offers to set up a meeting with the Mayans and Chinese, and Jax is all, “Yeah, let’s talk to them RIGHT NOW and furthermore everyone is throwing me this awesome Porn Party for me tonight, see? At the opening of the new studios, right? And y’all can all just come right over because this is totally not a trap.” Everyone thinks it is a trap, and it is obviously a trap, but they come anyway because Drugs and Porn.
The GB are taking a ton of blow back from other black gangs and TO is worried that he’s going to lose leadership, so he asks the Sons for help tracking down someone in the East Dub Crew that ran his guys off the road. They end up in the wrong place shooting the wrong people, namely a foursome of pastors and a hooker, which is an embarrassment, so Jax asks TO for a favor later today.
Jax calls a meeting and admits his efforts to legitimize have blown up right in his face, and turning good isn’t going to whitewash The Shit he’s done, so he might as well embrace The Shit and if they are not in with The Shit, they can walk on out of there. Chibs, of course, gets teary from happiness because his sentimental Irish heart loves The Shit.
Lyla throws a surprisingly glamorous party at the new porn studio with chicks dancing and gangs mixing. Connor agrees to sit down with the Chinese about guns, so that shuffles all but the youngest Chinese guy, a roided up mopey bodyguard, out of the room. Gemma chats him up, and he says she sounds like a mom. Not coincidentally, she IS a mom, and that is not good for you, pal, because Jax tells TO to take Steroids down as soon as he leaves. Gemma then tells TO the most amazingly unconvincing story about how she got a Good Long Look at said dude walking out of Tara’s house the day of the murder, so obviously it was the Chinese who are after them.
Let’s just stop right here, because this is ridiculous. Gemma does have a history of blaming people for her Shit without fully playing out the consequences, and she did ask if he was single, but that doesn’t mean the Chinese aren’t going to tear the city apart. Plus, we were robbed of the moment she told Jax, and he’s gone totally nuts for less. I can’t even tell if he’s in on the lie, but the whole thing felt flat.
“Bohemian Rhapsody” plays over the final scene because Duh. Gemma is doing the dishes in the dark, talking to Dead Tara with Hamlet-esque flair and turns around to show us Steroids tied up in a chair. He is so clueless as to why he’s there that he doesn’t even shake his head when Jax accuses him of killing Tara, but when he sees the knife, hammer, and screwdriver, he starts crying like a little girl. Before the coup de grace, Jax literally pours salt in his wounds to wake him back up, purring, “We’re almost finished,” driving home a BBQ fork into his brain. It’s always the probies that pay first, right? I felt a little let down by the lack of gruesomeness, but maybe I’m dead inside from watching too much Sons.
The meltdown begins, Lea Michele shows up because we all know Sons of Anarchy watchers are big Gleeks (not), and Juice keeps making bad decisions because he wants to break my heart.