(This recap was originally published on May 19, 2016.)
Man, Wentworth is so much fun so far this season! And by “fun,” I mean “a terrifying jack-in-the-box, where at any moment a lesbian will pop out and try to either stab you or kiss you,” but the intrigue is livelier than in seasons past, the mood less depressive.
Last week, Joan Ferguson returned to Wentworth as a prisoner, awaiting trial and locked in protective custody. Vera fought to maintain control over the prison, and thought she might have finally found a true friend in Bridget, so she was pretty disappointed to learn that Bridget and Frankie were shacked up together in glorious bliss (which was nevertheless both a violation of Bridget’s code of ethics and Frankie’s parole). Kim cut up her lovely face trying to scale the walls. Kaz Proctor posed a serious challenge to Bea’s dominance, using her wits, cunning, and a minor in feminist performance art to earn the respect of the other women. Bea herself found it rather hard to get excited about anything right up until the moment Allie, Kaz’s second-in-command, tried to go down on her in the showers, which came as a not-entirely-unpleasant shock to everybody.
This week opens with Joan Ferguson getting some very bad news. She learns that her thug, Nils Jasper, has turned stool pigeon on her and confessed to his part in her diabolical plan.
Though Jasper’s betrayal might seriously derail her chance at freedom, Joan isn’t worried. In fact, she literally whispers aloud, “Dead men tell no tales.”
It is so operatically overblown it is almost adorable, much like the rest of Joan’s personality.
In the next cell over, Bridget pays Kim a friendly visit, but Kim is apparently still mad about that whole “I got thrown back into prison to be with Frankie, and then you stole her from me” thing. Bridget is calmly like, “Now Kim, Frankie got her parole because she wanted freedom, not just my lithe, willing body and convertible and beautiful house and ability to intellectually challenge her.”
Out in gen pop, the ladies still haven’t given up their campaign for shoehorning heterosexual sex scenes into the show–I mean “conjugal visits.” Doreen would dearly love some sugar from her baby daddy, and Boomer just wants a baby. But this idea is a non-starter for Vera, who hasn’t yet forgiven the women for pelting the board of governors with tampons. Vera feels betrayed, not just by the prisoners she’s attempting to rehabilitate, but by Bridget, whose relationship with Frankie puts all three of them at risk. With that in mind, she fires Bridget, effective immediately. Bridge tries to fight back with some therapy tricks, but even she recognizes that it’s below the belt, and she needs to face some consequences for her love-struck recklessness.
Over in the showers, Kaz and Allie strut in just to hurl transphobic invective at Maxine (who may be suffering from Dana Fairbanks Disease). And I gotta say, if anybody is gonna be misgendering Max, I’m glad those words are put in the mouths of the bad guys. Of course, the danger with the whole Red Right Hand thing is that you make the unhinged vigilantes straw men for feminism writ large, but I think Bea does a pretty good job of representing non-exclusionary feminism.
Speaking of Bea, she pokes her head out of the shower to defend Maxine, and Allie is like “Funny meeting you here again. It’s almost like you’re spending a lot of naked time in here hoping that I’ll try and polish your pearl again.”
And I know that Allie has said transphobic shit, serves the evil Kaz, and is probably not in the running for Human of the Year, but when she looks at Bea that way, like she is a stick of butter melting on the frying pan of Bea’s abs, my principles go one way, and my heart goes another.
Even Maxine notices the smoldering and encourages Bea to use it to her advantage.
Back outside the walls, Bridget and Frankie’s relationship hits an unfortunate roadblock. Bridget’s job and Frankie’s parole are both in jeopardy now that Vera knows they’ve U-Hauled. With that in mind, Bridget makes the very tough call that Frankie needs to move out, at least until this storm blows over.
But she does leave, and on her way to the car, she sees the stalker from last week, who (you were right!) is her dad after all. He gives her his number, acting awfully penitent, but she’s just like “I can’t deal with this right now. My therapist just turned me into an outdoor cat.”