Wentworth Recap 1.10: Trouble in Paradise Lost

(This recap was originally published on October 31, 2013.)

Hello, fellow prisoners. Writing this is only slightly easier than writing my final Bomb Girls recap, because I know that Wentworth will be back on the air next season.  But it will be without Lara Radulovich and with Leeanna Walsman in a seriously truncated role, so I’m unsure how much of a resemblance it will bear to this, one of my favorite seasons of television of all time.

So, once more with Feelings: Previously on Wentworth, Bea Smith got arrested for trying to murder her abusive husband, and was carted off to the big house, yelling the whole way “Wait, guys. It’s okay! I heard about this in a Dixie Chicks song!” Once she got to prison, everyone was like “YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE. YOU WILL DELIVER US FROM THE ENDLESS WAR BETWEEN JACS AND FRANKY.” But Bea didn’t want to play their reindeer games; she just wanted to mind her own business, get out of prison, and take care of her daughter. However, the thing about being the Chosen One is: no one gives a shit what you want. So Jacs murdered Bea’s daughter via heroin overdose, and hoped that her grief would destroy her.

The other main thing that happened was the forbidden lust between Franky Doyle and Erica Davidson, the prisoner’s Top Dog and governor, respectively. Franky spent the whole season looking Erica dead in the eye and saying “Look, I have Feelings for you.  And some of them are in my heart, and some of them are in my turquoise pants, and all of them are against the rules.  But they’re there and maybe we oughta do some kissing about them.” And Erica spent the whole season being like “WHAT IS THAT SOUND IS IT THE WIND?” But she couldn’t keep the desire out of her eyes and her body language and her fantasy life. Lately, though, there’s been trouble in this otherwise idyllic relationship.  Erica has been using her engagement ring like it has a deflector shield and Franky has felt hurt and disappointed on account of that engagement ring Erica’s mistreatment of the prisoners and Franky’s long commitment to social justice.

This week opens in our beloved prison laundry (how I will miss you and the prisoners’ access to your deadly weapons over the break). Bea is still trying to understand how her sweet, innocent daughter got into heroin. Thinking out loud, she says “Maybe it was her new boyfriend, that Brayden kid.” Instantly, the room gets quiet as this name sinks in.

Do you speak of Brayden The Holt, who sprang fully-formed from the loins of Jacqueline, wielder of the Stress Ball of Destiny?
The deer has become the headlights.

Bea charges at Jacs, ready to steam-press her face, but Liz, ever the voice of reason, holds her back.

Bea’s next stop is Erica’s office, where she begs the governor to launch an investigation into Jacs and Brayden, because she still maintains an adorable faith in law and order.  Erica is eager to see this whole bloody power struggle come to an end, so she promises to speak to the police.

In the cafeteria, Bea and Jacs meet again.

Bea: I’m gonna go for it, guys.  I’m gonna take on Jacs.

Gang: Don’t do it, Bea.


Bea walks up to the food line, grabs Jacs’ tray and…starts serving her food. But like, aggressively.

Bea: Look at me, I just put pears in your spaghetti. I RUINED THEM BOTH.

Jacs: Okay.

Bea: Oh what’s that, you don’t want green beans? HERE’S FIFTY OF THEM, HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW??

Bea stalks back to her table.

Bea: How’d I do, guys? Was I scary?

Gang: Super scary, we were terrified.

Franky: Jesus fucking Christ DO I HAVE TO PUT THE SHIV IN YOUR HAND?

Later, Jacs comes to Bea in her cell and insists that she and her son are innocent, and Bea is just so turned around she doesn’t know what to believe.

Over in the guards’ room, Fletch and Vera try and repair their relationship.

Vera: Sorry, could I borrow a foreshadowing?  I seemed to have misplaced mine.

Fletch: Not to worry, I keep a pile of sharp, pointy foreshadowings in my desk just in case.

Vera: Thanks, and about the other night…

Fletch: Please do not attempt to take any of the blame for that debacle.  And please let me redeem myself by making you a proper meal and some sex in which your orgasm is the primary goal.

So that night he cooks and they have sweet, tender sex, and for a moment I am lulled into the belief that this storyline, at least, will turn out well.

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