The Existential Entourage — “The Review”
Reviews of the HBO series Entourage which make me want to kill myself.
It’s an important note, critically, that Entourage was originally conceived with E as the protagonist. The pilot is clearly built around his arc, not Vince’s, and Kevin Connolly receives top billing in the opening credits for the first season, at least. This displays, I believe, a stunning lack of foresight by Doug Ellin and the other writers in thinking that people would watch this sugar candy show — in which one character is constantly referred to as the zenith of cool, sex appeal, fame, and fortune — and somehow buy that the more integral story belongs to the group’s raspy-voiced ginger grandma?
While the episode opens on Turtle’s I ❤ COCK Hummer, the camera never reveals to the viewer if the homophobic joke bumper sticker was removed (presumptive spoilers: it wasn’t, they probably bought a new Hummer). That’s all right, though, because E makes a transphobic joke at Drama’s expense one minute later. That joke is: “Sorry, Drama, I thought you already had your gender reversed,” after Drama explains that he’s performing The Vagina Monologues in his theater class as a gender reversal exercise. Turtle enters, tells Vince: “I only got you nine iPods ’cause they ran out.”
The Entourage heads to Ari’s office. They pass by fictional pop star Justine Chapin, surrogate for Britney Spears in a then-five years dated reference, who is dressed provocatively, has a toned stomach, and dangerously multi-ethnic lady entourage — casting suspicion on her media claims of being a virgin. Passing by for the moment without interlocking genitals or breaking into song, the real Entourage meets Ari’s new assistant, Emily, on her first day. She is demure, soft-spoken, and humble, like a believable virgin should be. Emily explains that she is a Los Angeles native and then apologizes for it, like no Los Angeles native I have ever seen in my entire life has, perhaps out of some sense of Queensian solidarity with the boys, as her father is from Flushing. I am also from Flushing, and I would venture that those roots would leave her even less likely to apologize for herself.
Emily is flustered at her desk. A giant sweat drop appears on her brow as she begins to mutter with increasing volume and obsequiousness “Gomen nasai” to her male superiors. That isn’t true. Ari does say that she isn’t “broken in yet” after Vince asks her out on E’s behalf.
Before beginning their meeting, Ari shows Vince and E a voyeuristic video he shot of his female neighbor bending over, proudly pointing out that his toddler son checked her out as well. When Vince sits down on Ari’s couch, he begins playing with a toy telescope. While speaking to the boys, Ari passes by a full-sized, gold telescope, pointed out towards the adjacent buildings. On wider shots, a miniature silver telescope can be seen on Ari’s desk.
Was the set department just trying to extrapolate Ari’s personality from the material they had and decided to make him a voyeur fetishist? Was this just an in-joke by the writers they never desired to draw attention to? The only clear thing is that Ari, in his transition to a fan favorite character, became more sympathetic over time, and the adulterous aspects of his character were not only toned down but outright retconned. His lechery — a cardinal sin in America — converted to greed — which is not simply a merry mischief, but often plainly a virtue as we know he’s only trying to support his beautiful family. And not his ten million dollar a week antique telescope addiction.
In order to keep Vince’s spirits up after the episode’s titular bad review, E acquiesces to Vince buying an expensive car, prompting the first of the series’ Money Troubles. After the car immediately pays for itself in commoditized sex, E is forced into a chewing out by grouchy ol’ Mr. Marvin, the business manager. The scene is such a bummer that Marvin is not seen again until the second season, then only seen once more in season four, then written out entirely. Fuck Money Troubles.
Instead, the Entourage goes to Jessica Alba’s party for Justine Chapin, Virgin. Amidst dialogue such as “You gotta pop the pop star’s cherry, it’d be great press,” “Virgins are too much responsibility,” and “What kind of a virgin has a snake tat pointing down at their box?” the question of whether Vince is unable or too coy to recall his first sexual experience is established.
Later, as Vince and E meet for another end-of-episode unburdening, as they did in the pilot, and E admits that he’s worried he’s in over his head managing Vince’s career, as he was in the pilot, and Vince, an effervescent fairy to whom the virginal Justine Chapin just proposed he be her first, reassures him while also undermining his ego, as he did in the pilot. This time, it’s through the reveal that Vince lost his virginity to E’s cousin. This is the episode’s catharsis.
The next day, Vince gets a good review.
4
