Oh, Glee. I hate all the things you choose to be. I have a completely love-hate relationship with this show. I love musicals. I love a TV show that is a musical. And it is probably one of the most diverse shows on television. But while it sits smugly in its own diversity, its belief that it is hitting all the hard issues, it routinely contradicts itself and treats its female characters like utter crap.
This week, Saint Finn was determined to show Santana that it's OK to be gay. She should get over her insecurities and just embrace it already!
I don't even know where to start with the insulting, eye-roll-inducing way that Glee handled Santana's "coming out story." Shall I talk about how the "nice guy" Finn decides that he is authorized to tell other people how they should feel, and although Santana originally manages to have a bad-ass "WTF" reaction to it all, even she is eventually convinced to cave to the pressures of the Glee club? Or about the fact that Finn not only decides the best way to help Santana is through the stupidly named "Lady Music Week," but blackmails her into participating, for her own good? That he gets right up into her face and sings a creepy-slow version of Girls Wanna Have Fun, as if this somehow encapsulates Santana's problems and makes them go away? That the show presents the idea that if she is not publicly outed and pressured to accept that as OK by some guy who means nothing to her, she might kill herself, despite having shown no tendencies to back that up so far? Or that the show decides to celebrate Santana's lesbianism by having the female characters (most of whom are straight) sing I Kissed a Girl, the ultimate anthem for experimental drunken lesbianism with a giggle and a wink?
Perhaps I'll just ignore that, and instead ask: what on earth was Kurt wearing?? It was like a... polo-necked half-poncho?
On the bright side, Santana's version of Constant Craving was absolutely wonderful, and Puck finally standing up for Quinn and telling her "You don't need anyone to make you special," followed by sweet cuddling, would have been lovely if not for the vomit-inducing Puck/Shelby storyline that lurks in the background.
But overall... there was the potential for a great story here, and it was instead replaced by a terribly sexist perspective on Santana's sexuality and her autonomy. Great job, Glee. Truly wonderful stuff.