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riverdale-retread · 1 year ago

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Riverdale S7 E19 (Chapter 136) Golden Age of Television

There are so many things you can say about Riverdale the show that are completely wrong, but one of the most wrong things you can say about it is that it is made in some sort of careless or haphazard way, without due care and consideration.

The penultimate episode of Riverdale the TV Series, which launched in the final years of the most recent Golden Age of Television, and is likely to be one of the last shows to have this full 22 episode, multi-year arc of classical American TV, opens with a wide open outdoor shot of the river, the forest with huge trees, and the sign that looked old fashioned and worn even in an 1950s context which they never changed into 2017.

The picture-perfect shot of the Riverdale-Town-With-Pep sign is transitioned perfectly over to an actual postcard showing a pictorial representation of that sign, stuck to the window of Jughead Jones’ souped up train car. The fact that this person who lives in Riverdale has purchased (or was given?) a postcard of the town sign and put it up on his window as the sole decorative touch when he is IN the town is so funny. Jughead has said that Archie is the spirit of Riverdale in all seasons other than this one (he just isn’t as interested in Archie in this alternative universe) and yet he’s the one that is completely obsessed with what it means to be Riverdale in a way that not even the people running for mayor (who are all of his friends’ moms and dads) have bothered blathering on about.

In the 1950s alternate universe, Jughead Jones has this to say about his location:

“For years, Riverdale had prided itself for being the town with pep - safe, innocent, utopian.”

Alas, but this is not real, apparently because he’s learned about the “darkness that churned beneath Riverdale.”

Life in general is at best a mix of good and bad things happening. There are some eras though that are convinced they are the good times when they are happening, which then provides endless fodder for people to argue with in subsequent generations. The 1950s for the United States is one of those eras.

Possibly in this spirit, Jughead Jones loathes to write meanly about the things that he loves, so our narrator is being a bit indirect when he tries to describe the “churning darkness” but that leads to lying by omission. The Town’s Mayor turned out to be a Soviet Agent hiding a nuclear bomb warhead in his ancestral mines - rather more dire than just merely prejudice and fearmongering, and unrelated to inequality!

See, even now, even after all he knows in the 1950s universe, Jughead doesn’t want to write his town off as the hellhole that it often actually has been! (Look what they did to Ethel! And the man summarily executed in the town square by Sheriff Keller as his skin sloughed off him in layers!).

1950s Jughead is not the insomniac-due-to-homelessness of the other time line Jughead. He’s just a morning person who gets up early enough to get the morning paper, read it, and then start writing while the sun comes streaming in. On the table next to the typewriter is a copy of the Riverdale Register with HIS PHOTO, posing moodily against the big phallus of the palladium bomb. First, this is a very funny photo for the Riverdale to use with the headline PROJECT MOLOCH FOILED! Why not use a photo of the mayor and his soviet spy wife getting arrested or their mug shot or something else? Why use this photo of Jughead Jones? Secondly, the idea that something as major as a world-ending bomb being discovered by two high school kids in abandoned mines in upstate New York getting no New York Times or other major newspaper coverage is pretty funny. What’s even funnier is that maybe it DID get national press coverage but Jughead Jones is so absolutely parochial that he only cares what the Riverdale Register had to say about it. Or! And maybe this is the truth - he only wanted to see himself in this off beat beatnik type of photo on the front page of a paper. Vanity at its most potent!

Because think about this - he’s wearing stripey pajama pants and the patented slutty tank top (in the 1950s these were undershirts, right? So he put on a brassiere for his early morning writing bout) but then remembered to comb his hair and pin (it has to be pinned) his felt crown just so on top of his head before he could sit down to write his commentary about the recent events which showed that Riverdale is not in fact a perfect haven.

Anyway, I am happy that he’s narrating again. I missed Jughead narration.

We cut to Archie who is reading On the Road, in bed, first thing in the morning. Jughead tells us that there’s “some new thinking that is required,” thereby presenting us with this as one of the major indicators of “new thinking.” Except Archie has been trying out experimental artistic writing and reading all season, so this is not in fact new. Jughead of this world simply doesn’t know Archie Andrews very well at all.

At school, Principal Featherhead is packing his personal items into a cardboard box under the watchful (but useless) eye of Sheriff Keller. Jughead, at school well before the rest of the student body, gets to witness the very unhappy and angry Featherhead leave the premises. Featherhead gives him a nasty, I blame you for this! glare. Narration Jughead explains that Featherhead gave an official ‘personal reasons’ explanation for his losing his job, but the real reason was “an anonymous accuser” identifying him as part of “Mayor Blossom’s Soviet Shenanigans.”

Was that Jughead, who made the accusation? Or was it Cheryl?

Featherhead’s boyfriend the Lolita-fetishist comes out to see him take his leave of the premises, then makes sure to give Jughead the same I Blame You For This glare too. These adults do not have any qualms about not treating these kids like they are kids. Jughead has been feeling himself of late - he’s wearing suspenders and a t shirt under his button down shirt.

We cut to Hal and Alice reading out the news. They are looking for another principal! Then we cut to the extremely colorful Cooper house, where Betty is giving her parents maximum disapproval in glares as they work out how they are not going to separate or get divorced but instead will simply live apart on different stories of their house - Hal in the basement, Alice on the second floor where the bedroom is. Betty wants to know why Alice won’t simply divorce Hal.

The simple answer is that Alice loves being on television, and the sexism of newsmedia (which is STILL EXACTLY THE SAME IN 2023) means that there’s no way a woman in her 50s who looks like she’s in her 50s, no matter how gorgeous, would be allowed a head anchor job, for one, and for another, she might simply not be good enough for any other television job not given to her by her husband. This is the simple answer as I say, but Alice is not someone who has a clean relationship to the truth, so in response to Betty’s question she says a lot of other things, all bullshit, about staying together for her daughters, not breaking up the family, blah blah. She does mention the inability to open a bank account again.

Alice says something else, that I find rather terrifying, but Betty isn’t horrified by it. Alice would rather have her cheating troll of a husband live with her in the basement like a literal troll, and sit next to him smiling on their television show, than be alone, because she doesn’t know how to be alone. The music they play is sympathetic, but I feel no sympathy for Alice. There are no excuses - none whatsoever - to the way she treated Ethel from end to end, including that ridiculous offer to ‘adopt’ her. Fuck Alice, and also, fuck everyone who is scared to be alone. You all do the worst shit to other people.

Nana Blossom meanwhile is holding court in front of her two grandchildren. She calls her son “idiot” and her daughter in law “viper,” then prays that they rot in a “Russian gulag for the rest of their miserable lives.” Why would it be a Russian gulag though? Having committed treason, wouldn’t they just be executed in America?

Both of the Blossom children hated their parents as much as their grandmother did.

“From your lips to Moloch’s ears, Nana,” Cheryl says. This is one of my most cherished Cheryl lines ever, right up there with “You’re looking especially Dilfy today, Mr. Andrews.” Julian chimes in to say that he always knew there was something squirrely about his parents. I mean, bless Julian’s wonderful singing voice, but he’s only being like this because he’s pissed that his father brought in Reggie Mantle, no? Cheryl has been put through it - about her sexuality, about her art - by both of her parents who threatened her directly. Julian has had either favored-child or ignored-child status, so it’s quite dark that he hates them so. They both look very psychopathic as they put their indifferent two cents in.

Nana Blossom, who anyone with sense has to admit is the best character on Riverdale bar none, starts to say that it’s up to the three of them now to "ensure that the Blossom rise from the ashes like phoenixes” which scared me for a moment because I thought for sure she was going to suggest Julian and Cheryl fuck each other but she does not. Instead, Cheryl, looking very happy, says she knows just what the first thing to do should be.

The school bell rings, and we see the important kids all seated at the student lounge together, worried for the future, “with Featherhead gone.” The seating configuration is interesting. Counting clockwise from Betty, it’s Veronica, Jughead, Clay perched next to Kevin and touching him with his body, Kevin, then Reggie perched next to Archie and touching HIM with his body, Archie, who is seated as far as possible away from Cheryl while still adjacent, who is next to Toni. The bi-girl Beronica couple are not touching, and the gay-girl Choni couple are also not touching, and I object to all of this.

Jughead is very worried that it might be Dr. Werthers as the replacement. Kevin doesn’t like that idea at all. He’s seconded by Reggie, who says Captain Hook or Godzilla would be a better replacement. That joke lands flat because Archie is really worried they might ask Uncle Fucking Frank ‘to step up.’ Reggie is wearing a black and orange striped shirt and it can’t be a coincidence that Archie’s T shirt has the same orange shade at the neck.

Toni says she knows a great candidate, who will need a boost from the PTA. Betty tells her that Alice is president of the PTA, urging Toni to give Alice another chance at “doing the right thing.” Now that I’m typing this out, it seems telegraphed in the most blatant way - Toni brings it up, and this is supposed to be a redemption opportunity for a white woman - but I truly didn’t glom on to who this candidate might be when I was watching the the first time, because of the strange way that Jughead takes leave of his friends.

Right after Betty says that thing about Alice (“A lot has changed for her”) he jumps up to say he’s going to pay a visit to Dr. Moldy, then significantly nods in general at the silent group before taking off to no fanfare. I also couldn’t tell who this ‘Dr Moldy’ was that he wanted to pay a housecall to.

It turned out to be Dr. Werthers, who is also packing up his things. I mean, it was only fun for him to work at Riverdale HS because his boyfriend ran the place, so of course he’d be leaving now that he’s gone! Jughead doesn’t yet know that gay people exist, maybe, since he hasn’t been in the Grundy writing class nor getting recruited by Clay, so he jumps to the opposite conclusion. “Featherhead is barely out the door and you’re already trying to take his office!?” he says, after groaning, Oh I knew it!

The phrasing of this is so funny - he’s just out of a job, Jughead, not dead, but okay, sure, say it like that.

It turns out Werthers is going “off to do real work, in Washington.” This has Jughead very concerned, so he steps decisively into the room. Werthers is extremely smug, saying he is going to be working on a presidential committee on juvenile delinquency, with a specific focus on the evil of comic books. Jughead sarcastically says “Well Golly!” at him in a nasty way before telling him not to let the door hit him on his way out. Werthers won’t of course let that be the last word: “My tribunal will still be doing the important work of regulating comic books.” Jughead spits out that what that tribunal does is Censorship. Werthers doesn’t skip a beat - he anticipated that Jughead would come barging in here, like this, at this time, so he had a final nasty piece of news ready: The latest issue of Pep Comics that Jughead and his editor submitted for approval has been rejected by the Tribunal. Extremely pleased with himself, Werthers basically tells Jughead that he knows he put this entire comic publisher out of business, and he did it on purpose.

This is the second time in this show that Werthers/Dupont has completely derailed a Jughead Jones creative career endeavor. Oddly powerful, this wizened turkey necked man, isn’t he?

Outside, Archie is working off some steam he built up about literature by shooting hoops in front of Reggie, who tells him “you still got it.” Archie has been so enthused about the On the Road book that he’s committed pieces of it to memory. He has decided to just live out the book - to ride the rails, hit the trails, hop trains, explore the country, sleep under the stars, and write. This has to be a little dig to someone about the relationship that Jughead and Archie tried to have with each other in the other universe. Those two actually did ride (well, walk along) the rails, slept under some stars, and so on. It’s really surreal that Archie is saying this to Reggie, even if this an alternative universe!

Reggie wants to know how Mary is going to take these vagabond wild man writer fantasies. Archie confidently tells him that since he will do these adventurings during summer vacation, nobody can stop him. Meanwhile, I am reminded of that Sylvia Plath journal bit where she is annoyed that she doesn’t really get to have experiences like On the Road, of hopping on a motorcycle and just taking off to ‘rough it’ - not worrying about where she’s going to sleep and if she’ll be safe from, variously, rape, violence, attempted murder, murder. Reggie is all about his ‘best basketball camp’ experience that he’s looking forward to. He shoots a basket casually, making Archie look at him in wonder.

My bitterness about Jughead-Archie not happening aside, the relationship that Reggie the good hearted basketball star has with Archie the small town boy with bohemian writer aspirations is quite sweet. Almost wholesome. (Insert “We could have had a good life” speech from Brokeback Mountain about Jughead-Archie here). IF we’re still positing that all these people are existing in the Angel Tabitha created world which is supposed to solve the problems of all the satan-riddled other Riverdales, the fact that Tabitha thinks that the deep relationship that Jughead had with Archie was fully toxic and in need of eradication is, to say the least, disturbing.

Speaking of Jughead, he has run straight to Veronica, to nurse his wounds about the latest issue of Pep Comics being kiboshed by Werthers. They’re calling it Zip Comics right now. Veronica is in her Movie Usher uniform, because I guess Clay and Kevin haven’t reported into work yet. Jughead speculates that it’s due to “The Comet” story that the latest issue was rejected. He mentions that Tabitha “clued [him] in” last time she was in town. Veronica is upset, because in her opinion that story was wonderful. “It’s so romantic and philosophical,” she says, reminding the audience that this is a story about a comet that hits NYC, with two survivors, a black man and a white woman, who fall in love.

WINK WINK HINT HINT hey because Season 6 of Riverdale ended with a comet hitting a town and obliterating it, ending the lives of a white man in love with a black woman.

In any case, when Jughead makes it clear that he thinks it’s the interracial nature of the couple that got the entire issue killed, Veronica looks a little surprised. Jughead looks concerned in a filial way when he tells her that he hasn’t yet told his publisher the bad news, because it will “crush” Featherstone.

Veronica says that the comic and the story was a masterpiece, adding she thought it would make a great movie. The single page of the comic they show us involves rather tame looking panels of one white man asking another white man if we hadn’t passed through the tail of a comet before, and the other man replying this was a different comet.

Jughead apparently adores the budding movie mogul side of his girlfriend, because he can’t contain his excitement even though he tries to -his eyebrows waggle up then down and back up again, as he starts to smile. He tells Veronica that if SOMEONE wanted to get in touch with DuBois, the original author of the tale, he has “all their information.” He means for Veronica to pursue it! Jughead Jones s7 being the most supportive friend to women who want to make art (Ethel! Veronica!) is a great touch. I’m very for this. Veronica’s face goes from being just wistful (I thought it would make a great movie) to disbelieving (do you think I can do it?) to being scared but excited (Maybe I *can* be the one!) It’s very lovely to watch.

At the Cooper house, Betty and Alice are sitting on the sofa as Toni makes her case from their armchair. When Riverdale High School integrated they shut down three (three??) black high schools, summarily firing all the teachers. Three? THREE all black high schools existed IN Riverdale?

Toni is lying. She has to be. There are definitely not enough black people in Riverdale to sustain a single all black high school, nevermind THREE. Either that, or there is some sort of terrifying deep apartheid going on because no.

But anyway, all three women are wearing belts with the most outlandish buckles of all time. Like, hideous monstrosities. Is this each of their armor, to protect their fragile navels from each other now that they have to discuss race?

Toni says that one really incredible teacher has been driving a cab the past year. I try not to look too closely at the racial history of Riverdale especially as relayed by Toni because of all her bullshit both as a construction and as a person, but she does have one thing right - in talking about race to a white woman, she takes on a quiet, almost pleading, nearly weepy super-soft tone, to prevent a freak out and flight. Even so, Alice still tries to wriggle out of it - She the Good White Person is of course in support of justice in theory, but she does not have the power to wrangle other white people of the PTA.

Betty calls bullshit on that immediately (good for her!) telling her to make it work.

And voila! Alice made it work. “Now is the time for a fresh start.”

Hey it’s Weatherbee! He’s now principal. His speech is about change and new ideas (things that the previous administration was against.) Betty and Veronica are sitting with Jughead, wearing hers and hers similar outfits (tight fitting bodice, flared skirt, bow at the bust) in pink and purple checked patterns.

Weatherbee starts to give an extremely political sounding speech that I would find very confusing coming from a high school principal. “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.” “The challenges are enormous and systemic” he says, adding “Be kind. Be decent. Be better!” Toni leaps to her feet, applauding, which then makes everyone else do the same, though I don’t know what this pseudo Obama first-campaign styling has to do with running a high school. Why is the show making me be like Evelyn Evernever? She is the last last to get to her feet, looking extremely annoyed.

Archie goes to visit the principal to advocate for a “top not teach” - Mrs. Thornton! Weatherbee is all about bringing Mrs Thornton back to work at Riverdale. As he leaves the office, Archie grins maniacally to himself about this.

Part of the uh, doing better also includes Cheryl crashing the rehearsal for the cheerleaders. She singsongs, “Hold on to your pom poms my beloved paper shakers, because I’m ba~~~~ck!” I wish I had her confidence. Evelyn has all the girls lined up in a rigid grid. She tells Cheryl that she isn’t invited to the “private practice of the Vixens” because Cheryl is the “has been daughter of Russian spies.” Cheryl says she’s launching a coup because Weatherbee is “ushering in a new era.”

This is just like Kyle’s dad from South Park screaming Obama~ in the streets of their town causing mayhem after the election because that one change was supposed to fix literally everything all at once.

In any case, Cheryl challenges Evelyn to a dance off. “Winner takes all.” Evelyn refuses, but she doesn’t issue the refusal in a powerful way. She stammers a little, which then allows Cheryl to insist that refusal is not an option.

We get a final (sob) Cheryl Blossom cheerleading dance-off routine, ending in slow motion splits, with lots of little skippety hoppity steps and rather muted whooshing sound effects. I really can’t tell anything about cheerleading technique (repeat viewings of Stick It and Bring It On notwithstanding). At one point Cheryl drops the pompoms altogether to freestyle before retrieving them in a basic crouch. She has great chaine turns and flexibility.

However - What does having solid ballet training and the ability to do a solo dance have to do with cheerleading? When will the cheerleaders ever have to do chaine turns like this or be allowed to kick their ankles up to their ears in conservative 1955? Why is it necessary for the captain of the cheerleading squad to be able to do an impromptu dance? Furthermore, Cheryl’s dance-off proposal is patently unfair. It tests for improv skills that are not necessary in cheerleading, where coordinated movement with other cheerleaders is more important, plus Cheryl had time to pick the music, create the choreography and practice the thing before ambushing Evelyn with this whole set up, whereas Evelyn has presumably been busy actually running the squad and teaching them to stand in straight lines (this is, by the way, no small skill - ballet companies as great as the New York City Ballet consistently suck at getting professional ballet dancers to stand in straight lines to move in unison).

Cheryl inevitably wins but sheer charisma and starpower here, but I am (once again, sigh) full of sympathy for Evelyn here. Evelyn just freaks out, screaming, and then leaves the rehearsal. I have this weird amount of faith that she was a better squad leader, that the caliber (?!?) of cheerleading under Evelyn must have been superior to the self-aggrandizing that my beloved Cheryl Blossom can’t help but engage in.

Case in point - Cheryl grandiosely announces that this is a ‘new era for the Vixens’ but then only talks about herself. She comes out to the group as a lesbian, in order to “live in the light.” Except she issues a dark ultimatum - if anyone has a problem with a very rich lesbian who does great at solo dances leading the cheerleading squad, they can henceforth eject themselves from the squad. Umm team building? I guess??

Another couple outs themselves from within the squad - a white girl and a black girl. So at this point 100% of the black people who ever spoke and are queer can only date white people. That is so strange.

Jughead shows Fieldstone the “rejected for not promoting traditional American values” notice about the latest issue of the comic the two of them put together. Featherstone decides he’s going to publish the issue anyway, “send it out into the world, hope for the best.” He is with Jughead - the reason this issue was rejected was because of the miscegenation in the Comet story.

Fieldstone the editor has a bomb of his own to drop. “There’s not gonna be a next time, kid.” He’s proud of the Comet issue, can’t imagine a better swan song, and will let his business die on a high note. As people always do, in every universe, Fieldstone asks Jughead Jones to write a eulogy (in this case, the last editorial). Fieldstone turns out to have had a heart of gold after all (sort of), enough to give Jughead a heartfelt “It’s been an honor kid” double handed handshake. Jughead looks very moved, and very alert - he’s trying to learn how to let go of something he loved, which is a skill no adult ever really demonstrated how to do. Fieldstone takes an unsentimental look around the place, then says, “Well, it was a beautiful dream while it lasted.”

Speaking of dreams, Betty goes to pick up a special package from the post office. She unwraps it right then and there. It’s the Teenage Mystique, self published! The nice lady at the post office says something generic about how proud her parents must be. Betty doesn’t know how to tell her, No, they aren’t.

Then we catch up with Kevin, who fills me with dread every time I see him this season. Room 309 opens to reveal his dad evidently shirtless (or less, ew) in just a robe. Kevin was being a good son - Audrey (from the Sheriff’s office?) told Kevin his dad wasn’t feeling well, so he brought his father some soup. That’s really sweet.

Unfortunately, this is the exact time with Uncle Fucking Frank decides to come out of the bathroom in just a towel. He tells a ridiculous story about the shower being on the fritz in his room because he is also allegedly staying at the hotel. Why the hell didn’t he just stay in the bathroom if he was going to lie? This is a very Frank Andrews move, isn’t it?

Looking utterly terrified, Sheriff Andrews invites his son into the very red interior of this old man yaoi fucking room. Oh no, is this in the same motel that Twyla prostitutes out of? Christ in heaven SAVE ME.

Kevin looks as horrified as I feel. He can tell these two have been fucking.

At the Cooper’s, Betty shows her mother the self published book. She very much wants Alice to read it, and Alice immediately refuses. Betty begs her to read it - “By getting to know me better, you might get to know yourself better.” Alice refuses to touch the book.

Archie is meanwhile hanging out with Mrs. Thornton, who has been employed lickety split back at the school from which she was fired. She says Geraldine and she have been discussing Archie’s writing, which Mrs. Thornton wants him to continue with. Archie proudly tells her that he is “gonna hit the rails” with the dream of writing a big juicy poem. She wants very much for him to see what the world beyond Riverdale is like.

Veronica approaches Clay to ask him whether he knows The Comet as a story. When he gives a very enthusiastic affirmation, she floats the idea of his writing a screenplay of it for a major motion picture. I really love this about Veronica - when she sells an idea she sells the idea big. I should do this, but I don’t. She’s literally never made a movie but by god it’s gonna be MAJOR, you know? Anyway turns out Clay is one of those prepared people that god smiles down on, because he’s “actually been fiddling with a screenplay version” of this exact story. I am going to take a page out of Clay’s book and say the equivalent of this, because I’ve seen now so many men volunteer for things that are a) way beyond their capacity and b) based on lies along the lines of “I’ve Been Working On That Exact Thing For Years!”

It turns out Veronica actually used Jughead’s contacts and straight up bought the rights. She even has casting in mind (“Sidney Poitier!” they both shout actually). They then immediately decide to work their connection to Josie McCoy to get it rolling. Veronica sets the Cannes premiere 4 or 5 years from now. They embrace, giggling.

Archie comes home to find Reggie sitting disconsolate next to the lilacs. The dates for the basketball camp that Reggie has been so looking forward to will fall right in the middle of a key harvest at his family’s farm. The harvest can’t be skipped - it’s the one month that ensures survival for the rest of the year. “My parents need me,” Reggie says, his voice seizing up with tears. Reggie starts to cry in earnest. So then Archie says something completely amazing: “I’ll take your place on the farm.” He goes on to add that “Whatever else I had planned, it’s not as important as getting you set up for college.” He even gets a little poetic about how farmwork could actually be “exactly what a Beat writer should be doing.”

I’m very moved by this, because 1950s Archie is very kind in a way that the other universe Archie is not. (I mean, I’m a little bit anti-other world Archie because he’s so unpredictably violent. I’ve never forgiven him for smashing up his tv with a baseball bat as his terrified mother screamed in fear. Mary Andrews is useless, I grant you, but this is personal.) Anyway, Archie actually setting aside a personal dream (which is pretty harebrained, honestly) and wanting to commit to provide an actually useful material good for someone else!

Archie mentions the two people who can never been looked at directly on screen in S7 - Archie’s mom and dad - because they made things too complicated about how and why the biracial Reggie who identifies very strongly as a Koraen can exist as an American citizen in 1955. Archie talks about breaking bread with these unseen unseeable parents as though he’s really looking forward to it. Reggie, still getting over crying, tells him it sounds good, and then they embrace.

Archie says he loves Reggie, and Reggie says it right back.

OK so I’m discovering from watching this that I am actually a Jughead/Archie shipper at heart because THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN A STORY WITH JUGHEAD. Why the fuck is Reggie usurping Jughead’s position? I understand that this world has been put together in some ways by Tabitha but in the context of the show, this storyline with the I Love Yous and Archie demonstrating that he is actually the golden hearted person that Jughead has for YEARS wanted him to be - this belongs to Jughead!

Betty wakes up without screaming to find her mom sitting creepily on the edge of her bed in the middle of the night. Alice is upset. She says she’s read the book, “and I’m speechless.” She’s belatedly proud that Betty wrote “a whole book.” Alice is weepy about how she did get to know Betty better and how she got to know all the young girls “so full of thoughts and fears and struggles and dreams” through the book. Alice of course can’t really spend a lot of time thinking about anyone other than herself - so she immediately turns the discovery that girls are not just a problem for her to quash but people in their own right, and sneers at herself about her limited aspirations that were of the limited times she was raised in.

I really resent the ways that this show keeps insisting that I hear Alice’s side of the story. Actually she’s a piece of shit. There is no her-side of the story. Betty is trying really hard anyway, trying to tell her mother both that it’s not too late for her, that she can be happy.

They embrace to stirring music, but I am unstirred.

Instead of worrying about the world ahead for the women who are coming up behind her, or trying to apologize to her daughter or Ethel (I mean really, Ethel is owed), Alice uses this opportunity like all other opportunities to think about how life has not treated HER very fairly, with Betty in full support.

Jughead has hauled the very heavy typewriter all the way to the diner, to type at the booth. This is very funny actually - he lives in a train car, and his favorite place to be outside his home is another converted train car. He’s composing the final letter for the final issue of Zip Comic, put out by Pep Comics. “We here at Pep Comics refuse to kneel to unAmerican censorship.” He’s very haunted by the bonfire of fascism from a few episodes ago. There’s a slowmo insert scene of all the now out of work writers and workers of Pep Comics reading through the final issue together in the office. Fieldstone comes to put a proud and grateful hand on Jughead’s shoulder. Jughead says that even though the final issue is being published without the seal of approval, he still hopes the issue will make it into people’s hands. They show people in the town square publicly reading the final issue. Jughead hopes that the comic will make people think, and help them feel a little less alone. We see Dilton holed up somewhere (is it the bunker? or just his room?) reading by flashlight, looking proud and sad.

Jughead goes to visit the emptied out offices a last time, as he listens to his own final message for the readers of Zip/Pep Comics: “It is easier to tear down than to build up. Try to be a builder, not a destroyer.” Wistfully, he swings the magazine rack, then he wanders into the editor’s office. Fieldstone has left him a little present - a photo of him and Jughead, holding a copy of what must be Jughead’s first issue, looking very grandpa-and-grandson, with the handwritten note that says “Keep Going, Kid.” The message that Jughead explains to his would be readers about W.E.B Debois is that there’s always a possibility of a greater, better future. Jughead is very moved by the gift and the encouragement, looking infinitely sad that it only came at the end of this entire enterprise.

Much like Archie sacrificing something he thought he wanted for pure vanity and personal aspiration to be actually useful in a direct and generous way for someone else breaks him out of a rather bad cycle that his character kept repeating, Jughead being able to see something come to a non-violent end, sort of land the ending, as it were, and then furthermore receive encouragement from a male authority who actually survived his mentorship relationship with Jughead is a huge thing that has happened.

Jughead comes home from the visit to the empty offices to find that Tabitha Tate is sitting in his train car, waiting for him. The music whooshes to let us know that this is the 2023 Tabitha, not the 1955 Tabitha. She’s not wearing her glasses. I also don’t know if 1955 would’ve just barged into someone’s residence like this one has, but in any case, Jughead is immensely pleased to see Tabitha. He gives her a hug, then asks where her glasses are. She’s also managed to haul a TV into his space.

2023 Tabitha lays out the very strange things she has to tell him in a very straightforward way- she’s not the Tabitha traveling with the NAACP. “I’m the Tabitha that you’ve forgotten.” Jughead makes a choked sound if disbelief at this crazy thing she says (which was actually a really good, grounding performance choice. I liked this throat sound a lot.)

Tabitha invites him to sit down in his own armchair. Jughead looks at her askance, but he isn’t sure that this isn’t some sort of joke, so he keeps grinning awkwardly. Then Tabitha switches on the TV, and in full 2017 digital color the show Riverdale starts playing.

Our story’s about a town, Jughead narrator is saying over the drone scan over the town of 2017 Riverdale.

Is this a color television?? Jughead shouts, looking very elated, then he starts to hear what the narrator is saying, “From a distance, it presents itself like so many other small towns.” He recognizes himself, and he does that thing that I think most people do when encountering their recorded sound in an unexpected way: He lowers his own voice, by a lot, to ask “Is that my voice?”

Tabitha is in some sort of rush, because while she’s showing Jughead the first episode of the first season of Riverdale while making a cameo appearance as a pivotal character in the penultimate episode of the final season of Riverdale all she can think to tell him is to “Just absorb.” She says that she will “explain everything” after the absorption.

The Jughead S1 narration is still going on: “The name of our town is Riverdale” and as though in answer, the soundtrack song starts with, “Tell me.” (Oh I see what they did there, lol).

We are watching the TV for a moment from Jughead’s point of view, and he gets sucked into the screen. (Uh, much as I have, for the past several years.)

Cut to later. Jughead looks completely destroyed. His eyes are wet with tears, his shoulders are up around his ears, his hands have no strength. Tabitha pushes a cup of tea at him, prompting him to say something. With his voice shot, Jughead says, “I remember.” Tears fall down his face, and he says, as he looks up at her, “I remember everything.” He is so upset - and honestly, Jughead has a lot to be upset about in the course of Riverdale.

Tabitha either is very impatient and kind of brutal or she has a huge amount of faith in Jughead’s mental resilience because she is relentless in deluging him with very difficult pills to swallow. She has the power to send people back in time, there was the Bailey’s comet, etc. She calls this timeline “dark, and nihilistic, and hopeless” but credits “all of you” with helping making it less so. Meanwhile she was trying to untangle jumbled timelines and shore up the multiverse.

Uh.

OK I need - I need someone to write me a companion book about what the hell she’s talking about. Fic writers, is this in the works? Can I commission one? Fantasy-scifi is not my genre, at all.

Jughead is still crying, but he’s trying to keep up. I kind of wish she’d take a breath and ask him what he’s most upset about, because he’s clearly thinking about whatever it is made him start crying while she’s throwing all this jargon around about the timelines.

He wants to know if he and his cohorts were successful in making this particular timeline less terrible. Very kindly, Tabitha tells him that thanks to their “innate decency” all of the work that they did have “started to reshape this town, this world.” She assures him that things will keep getting better. Still shaky with tears, Jughead gives an appropriately happy response. Then he asks her if she was successful on her crazy sounding mission.

Tabitha says that she gave up trying to untangle the messed up timelines and instead chose to weave each strand (??) into this particular timeline, to make it more stable, “to fortify it.” I think Jughead doesn’t understand what the hell this means any more than I do, but ‘more stable’ and also ‘fortified’ sound like they are good things, so he says, “Great.”

Then, looking very remorseful, Tabitha says that stabilizing this timeline meant that she lost the ability to move anyone back to the original timeline. “I can’t send anyone back to 2023.” Jughead, who had been leaning towards her, rears back, looking betrayed. He wants to know if this means the others “won't remember anything about everything that happened before?”

Are we including the Rivervale storylines into the “everything that happened” part of this?

Tabitha confirms that the other lifetime that Jughead just watched, the one where his life ended in 2023, is closed off to him forever. Jughead continues to look crushed. As a strange sort of consolation, Tabitha instead offers to show all the others what she’s just shown Jughead (uh, Seasons 1-6 of Riverdale the American TV shows) and “they can then decide whether or not they want to remember their other … adventures.” After loading a lot of editorializing meaning into that word, adventures, Tabitha further commentates by adding, “let’s call them.”

There is so much happening. Tabitha the Angel Time-Weaving supernatural person has somehow obtained the ability to watch and to show others the whole of Seasons 1-6 of Riverdale, when she herself was a featured character that grew increasingly important after being introduced in Season 5. And furthermore, Tabitha Tate, the most loving girlfriend Jughead Jones ever had, the one who never hurt him or disappointed him or lied to him, has OPINIONS about all the stuff that people did to themselves and to each other in Seasons 1-4. Jughead is crushed & appalled about being the only one in the 1950s timeline with the dual knowledge of both The Present and The Other Time, but Tabitha already thinks (has thought all along?) that many of the others actually would prefer not to remember.

As he did months ago at the start of this timeline, Jughead gathers a lot of people - a lot more people now actually - to tell them what they have no reason to believe.

This time, because he’s just watched six seasons of Riverdale in one sitting, he is a person of charisma and gravitas who must be taken seriously by everyone who hears what he has to say. Assembled are Cheryl, Toni, Dilton, Fangs, Kevin, Clay, Julian (Julian??? Why is JULIAN here?), Reggie (again, this Reggie doesn’t really have a relationship with this Jughead, but I suppose he came here as Archie’s +1), Archie, Betty and Veronica.

Very somberly, he tells them (some of them a second time in the same school year) about ‘the future’ then adds this additional detail that they now cannot return to their previous lives, but he has a method to help them remember, if they want to keep the memories he’s going to show them.

The reactions are as varied as the disciples reacting to Jesus’ announcement in the Da Vinci painting, only more depressed. Cheryl has legs crossed and is hugging herself defensively. Toni, seated, and Dilton, standing, have their arms crossed. Fangs massaging his forehead. Kevin and Clay, standing and seated with legs the identical width apart have their arms crossed in the You Talk But I Don’t Believe You crossed-arms stance of mental ward orderlies in movies. Julian, as the most competent dancer, is in the most interesting pose - feet, knees, hands, elbows, shoulders are each at a different angle. Standing ramrod straight next to him is Reggie, and this talk is giving him a bit of a migraine. Archie is staring open mouthed at Jughead, while Betty and Veronica look worried.

Jughead continues to speak with his Post Riverdale Bingewatch Charisma, so nobody dares to contradict or even ask questions. He sounds so serious as he says “you know where to find me.”

Betty does a mean-girl gaze-slide towards Archie, except Archie is focusing very hard on Jughead. He seems to be trying to figure out why Jughead is doing this after he more or less threatened him with incarceration in an insane asylum earlier this year and also simultaneously wondering if this whole monologue is some “Howl” type of poem. Anyway, Archie in this world loves two people only, and Betty isn’t one of them so he doesnt care what message she’s trying to convey. Cheryl looks with a ‘What Fresh Hell Is This?’ sort of expression towards Toni, who looks back at her with ‘This is some White BS.’ Veronica, this Jughead’s current girlfriend, appears depressed and looks at no one. Jughead looks keenly towards Veronica to see if she is willing to give him support, but she won’t look back.

So, all alone, as the bearer of a bizarre and unwelcome truth, Jughead leaves the silent room.

Back at his home, Jughead is making what looks to me like a mayonnaise and lettuce sandwich. He wonders if “any of them would take me up on Tabitha’s offer.” And of course, one of them does! It’s Archie, who makes it very clear he didn’t want to be here. “I drew the short straw” he says, before adding that he thinks this insanity that Jughead has been spewing might be good grist for his poetry mill. Oh, so I was wrong. Archie loves *three* people in this world - Fred, Reggie, and Allen Ginsberg.

Jughead takes the whole thing in stride, which may be one of the “dark, nihilistic” things that Tabitha thinks has been fixed through effort - the Jughead of S1-6 would be absolutely crushed to pieces at Archie’s, I Don’t Want To Be Here With You clumsiness. He started to cry when he realized Archie didn’t believe him about the comet and time travel at the start of the season, you know? By the almost end of S7, Jughead no longer makes Archie a priority in any part of his life.

Is this what healing looks like?

I suppose. I mean, it’s one form of healing, but it’s not the one I was hoping for, for Jughead.

At the bunker, where the Riverdale viewing will happen, Jughead thoughtfully leaves out a box of tissues for Archie before he puts the show on for him. “In the future, this is called binge watching” he says, lowkey sardonic, before taking his leave of Archie.

Some time later (I mean it would take at least 13 days if you were watching 9 episodes per day, right? If you increase it to 16 episodes a day it still takes 7.3 day) Jughead and Archie are at the diner, when it’s bright outside, to discuss. Archie looks shell shocked, slumping down in his seat. Jughead looks at him with some warmth. Archie then does what the other Archie also used to do: he talks about himself, first and foremost. He lists all his various roles & jobs first (boxer, prisoner, football player, soldier) before immediately moving on to his perennial other topic of interest, his father. It takes less than a minute for Archie to say “my dad” as the thing he found most meaningful from watching 117 episodes of Riverdale. Jughead’s gaze flattens completely as Archie starts to tear up about his dad, about Fred dying again.

Archie, burdened with grieving double time for two Fred, says he’s not sure what he’s going to tell the others when Jughead, looking at him with very cold eyes, asks him. He doesn’t even care what the others want to know - “I didn’t think I’d ever see my dad again… so I’m glad about that” is all he can say. Archie thinks that Riverdale the show is not to everyone’s taste (“I don’t know if they will want to see what I saw.”.).

Jughead doesn’t disagree, but he wants to help Tabitha do her mission, so he offers to be available to anyone else who wants to see what Archie saw. Archie takes off without a word of farewell.

Later still, on a wholly different day (because he’s wearing a totally different outfit) Jughead is still in that same booth, now reading a comic book. He’s approached by his (ex?) girlfriend Veronica of this timeline and his ex girlfriend of the other timeline, Betty. They are wearing the same shade of purple but in different designs. Veronica looks wary and sad, which makes me think they’ve broken up. They tell him that they’ve heard from Archie (I’m assuming that Archie was too busy weeping about the two Freds to go tell anyone anything, so Bee and Vee went to interrogate him). They want to see what he saw, but together. Jughead takes them to the bunker, where they sit side by side. After putting the show on, he leaves via Veronica’s side of the bunker, but he doesn’t touch her and she doesn’t spare him a glance. Before he leaves for good, he takes a short look first at Veronica then at Betty.

At the line “The name of our town is Riverdale” Betty and Veronica give each other alarmed looks. Is this because they recognize Jughead’s voice by this time and come to realize, Wait, HE is the NARRATOR?

A week or two later, Veronica and Betty have watched all the way to Episode 117, The Night of the Comet, and have come to confront Jughead at the diner. It’s night now. “You could have prepared us a little more for that, Jughead Jones,” Veronica says, dolefully

I mean probably, but also you dumped him a second time and without saying so, Veronica, for one, and for another, how can anyone really prepare someone else for Riverdale? Betty starts crying immediately, thinking about it all. The first thing she says though is “darkness” and immediately I am so bored. I am bored by Betty’s obsession with her personal darkness. All the kids of Riverdale S1-6 had huge problems, so it’s hard to determine who had the roughest, but honestly the one who complains about it the most is Betty, so here we go again.

Betty can barely breathe as she says, “My family!” right after bursting into tears about darkness, while seated next to Veronica Lodge. Whose father was actually a killer and more competent about it than Betty’s father, for one. And also Veronica herself is a killer (of a husband and then that same father) which they just watched. Also Veronica was a conflicted mafioso daughter whose father waged war of various kinds on her boyfriend/obsession Archie Andrews and her childhood male frenemy/ adult colleague type friend Jughead Jones. Betty is so self absorbed and tactless - she’s revealing that she really only watched for her scenes, and took in none of Veronica’s story. She doesn’t say OUR families, OUR fathers - she’s all me me me. Veronica frowns, can’t make eye contact, during all this.

“My father was a killer!!” Betty says, vibrating with grief & outrage which… okay fair, but also? What did I just say? So was Veronica’s! And the entirety of Jughead’s sufferings in S1 came directly from HIS father being a falsely confessed killer! So much of Betty’s externally expressed self-understanding is This Isn’t Supposed to Happen To Me! which is why I remain highly wary of anyone who is a Betty stan. Those people are the scary types of Americans, lemme tell you.

Polly being murdered and coming back to life is the next major thing that Betty of 1950 remembers of the series she just watched, but not that heaven is real, not the bit about Sabrina the Witch and her reanimated Jughead Body boyfriend telling her about the Book of Revelations actually being very relevant to the spiritual realm (Whore of Babylon = Betty etc).

Then Betty looks at Jughead, saying “You and I were together.” Which is the weirdest summary and as tactless as saying “my father was a killer!” to Veronica Lodge. S7 Jughead Jones, because he has zero feelings about Betty Cooper whatsoever, laughs because she’s being a bit ridiculous, quips back, “Yeah, till we weren’t.” And of course, the reason they weren’t is because Betty crushed him at least twice over, but S7 Jughead saw what he saw and doesn’t feel any particular need to advocate for his alternate universe self. Since Betty can’t really come up with something to say about why Bughead is no more that makes her look good, S7 Betty behaves just like the other Betty and abruptly looks away to stop talking.

Veronica jumps in with “I was with Archie,” which I think is an act of aggression of the most passive variety against the whole hideousness of Betty’s self serving and self pitying (to the max!) summary. The immediate next thing she says, “I killed my husband, Chad, AND my father” is more of the same. Like, how to tell the silly self absorbed girl next to you to shut the fuck up without addressing her directly. Veronica properly took in what had happened to her in the other universe, so Jughead looks at her with concern. It also deserves some note that “being with Archie” is said by Veronica with the same level of shellshocked upset as mariticide and patricide.

I guess Veronica and Betty jointly and severally decided that they couldn’t be the only ones clobbered with the trauma-smudged other lives that they led, so the immediate next scene is Jughead doing his bunker presentation, once again (“What you’re about to see is your past, but it’s also your future” delivered in the most doleful tone), this time to Toni, Cheryl, Fangs, Dilton and Reggie.

“Some of it may be disturbing” has to be the understatement of the year.

Then in a cute little wink to the four Asian boys playing two Asian characters switcheroo that has happened with Reggie The Character and Dilton The Character, Jughead specifically tells Reggie 3.0 that “at times, you might not even recognize yourselves.”

Kevin and Julian had no interest in seeing stories of a universe in which Clay and his human corporeal self don’t exist, respectively. I hate Kevin this season so very much (because let me say, tiresomely, again - he’s a misogynist and a manipulator unlike in other seasons) but this is an interestingly loyal choice. It doesn’t make me forgive the shit he pulled on S7 Betty, because I never will, but nevertheless, he earns half a point back from me. And Julian is just practicing good mental health and self preservation. Kudos.

Jughead doesn’t immediately exit the bunker once he turns Riverdale on the tv unlike what he did with Betty in the room (because beating a hasty retreat really was about Betty, right?). He starts to look at everyone as they settle into the story.

A couple weeks after THAT, they all reconvene, now with Angel Tabitha leading the discussion. Everyone looks deeply dissatisfied. “Now you know what your lives were like before the comet.” Because they all look so disgruntled and resentful, Tabitha tries to give them some perspective: “The people you loved, the people you’ve lost…” only to be met with dead silence. Jughead tries to brighten the mood with, “The good. The bad. The bear,” the last one delivered with a knowing glance at Archie. But Archie is still upset, I guess, that Fred Andrews dies in Archie’s teens not one but two alternative universes, so he is in no mood to smile about a pithy quip.

Since they’re getting nowhere with these people, Tabitha swiftly moves on to say an amazing thing: If they’d rather forget their past lives, she can make that happen. She delivers this line with the same level of calm like she’s offering everyone a cup of tea instead of a mind-wipe. Jughead tries to make it so this isn’t terrifyingly ominous by explaining that this is because Tabitha is “an angel” which he seems to conceive of entirely in the Hallmark greeting card/ Sistine Chapel baby angel sort of way. Angel Tabitha finds this adorable because it’s wrong. She’s the type of Catholic Angel sent down to kill the first born of Egypt, you know? The ones that have to tell shepherds and virgins, Do Not Be Afraid when they show up, because when they show up some unhinged shit is about to go down.

The quickest on the uptake is of course, Veronica Lodge. She was the group leader, I suppose, and is now speaking for the group. She announces that as a collective, the main cast of Riverdale opt to NOT remember the vast majority of Riverdale S1-6. The equivalences she lines up are once again very funny: Not Good Times = Serial Killers = Superpowers = Gargoyle King. I mean, Veronica’s superpower was toxicity where she, the person most touch-reliant for stress relief could touch nobody, so for her this is very true.

Angel Tabitha initially disapproves of this request, in a silent, nostril flaring way. Jughead the narrator, the truth teller & observer, immediately interjects, saying “It doesn’t exactly work that way” even though he doesn’t actually know exactly what Tabitha’s powers are or how they function. Tabitha corrects him immediately, that she can do a special (angelic?) kind of brain damage that leaves people with selective memories. She can in fact reshare “only the good memories” because she is merciful and thinks they “deserve at least that much.”

They do?

What follows is really the most unhinged thing ever, because we get the supercut of the “only the good” moments of Riverdale. Apparently. Allegedly. Which are:

-The core four laughing in a diner booth in S1.

-Archie bursting through the banner for the Bulldogs at the football game grinning (with the big where Cheryl hallucinates Jason and runs off crying deleted)

-Veronica zipping Betty into her cheerleader outfit.

-Kevin leading the kids in a sing along during Heathers

-Fred and FP reminiscing about the old days at the diner booth as their boys smile at them and each other (seconds before it got tense about who was going to pay)

-Veronica and Toni hugging and singing at the speakeasy

-Cheryl in a red unitard doing the Stupid Love number (which weirdly cut to Tabitha who was never there looking nostalgic about it)

-Cheryl running into Toni’s arms as she got rescued from the Sisters of Quiet Mercy conversion prison (but then without the ‘bad’ memory of being committed to that institution this upset-looking embrace would make very little sense) (cut to Choni looking very moved about themselves)

-Shirtless Reggie tossing a football at shirtless Archie (the day before Archie is supposed to go to prison) (cut to Julian, who for some reason is present to watch the ‘good moments’ reel making a meaningful face)

-The teenage boy objectification carwash where Veronica is bouncing around (but they failed to raise enough funds at that one) (Archie reaction shot goes here)

-Betty and Alice Cooper at graduation, holding hands and putting their heads together as Jughead forlornly watches his father drive off with his sister to join their mother, abandoning him once again (da fuck? whose happy memory is THIS?)

-The core four in the Jalopy (Archie shirtless and Veronica in a headscarf etc) (again, this Archie’s friends desperately giving him a ‘one nice day’ because he’s on trial for murder)

-The core four at the quarry, jumping into the water (same)

-The reformed Josie & the Pussycats performing, to everyone’s general glee . In that episode when Josie, the only one who achieved her teenage dreams AND became objectively successful came back to tell everyone how much they sucked. This cut is inclusive of the kiss that Archie plants on Kevin’s cheek. (Reaction cut to Clay making the smarmiest face at 50s Kevin, who absolutely refuses to react, sitting there completely stony faced).

-Kevin in full Hedwig regalia planting one on Archie’s lips is shown immediately after, which is weird because Hedwig comes way before the Josie & Pussycats episode. I think that’s because the song that’s playing has the lyrics “Deep in the dark/ Your kiss will thrill me” right this second and whoever edited it (Tabitha? God? Sabrina??) thought they would suit action to the word. (Reaction cut to Archie laughing about it while looking at Betty, who looks only patiently indulgent, while Jughead leans over, smiling, trying to catch Archie’s eye, but fails)

-Kevin-Hedwig again, this time in a 2 header shot with Fangs, singing (This shot DOES get a reaction out of Kevin, who looks not at Clay but at Fangs, but Fangs doesn’t look back)

-All of them tossing their graduation caps in the air (reaction shot to s7 Dilton giving that shot a soft smile, even though his other universe self had died by mutilation well before this point)

-Reggie kissing Veronica at her Speakeasy in silhouette (Reggie looks very pouty about this)

-Veronica kissing Archie in the closet at the spin the bottle party that Cheryl set up (which gets a smile reaction shot from Veronica while Jughead for some reason also looks entranced)

-Betty in her beautiful prom outfit coming down the stairs to Jughead with his corsage looking completely in love (which gets a Betty-and-Archie thoughtful looks reaction)

-Betty cheating on Jughead by kissing Archie because she doesn’t love Jughead anymore in Hedwig (this immediately follows the prom outfit reveal scene and I feel insane) (Reaction cut is Betty and Archie unreservedly pleased with this bit, but also Tabitha looking fond which - I mean that is so crazy making - Tabitha is pleased about the Barchie Cheating Kiss of Hedwig because this set Jughead on the path to his relationship with her, I suppose??) (The lyrics that are playing just as we cut to Tabith are “I fall in love again/As I did then.”

-Tabitha and Jughead kiss at the Diner when she’s his boss and his life is a complete shambles

This last ‘good moments’ bit makes Jughead look over at Tabitha, who is standing in the liminal space between the theater and the hallway, and pursues her as she starts to walk out. He follows her all the way outside, calling for her to ask, “Is this the part where you ghost me??”

She says she doesn’t need to stay to see how “the movie ends” since both of them know how it ends.

Jughead asks her to “stay.” She can’t because there would then be two Tabithas. Apparently other Tabitha can never enter Riverdale while Angel Tabitha is here. Tabitha wrote her other self a really exhausting life story - law school, biz school, civil rights advocate - and one that resolutely DOES NOT have Jughead Jones in it. Even though he’d been watching a whole reel of him kissing Tabitha with his arm around Veronica, Jughead insists that 50s Tabitha and himself never getting together means that Angel Tabitha should stay. (Logic does not compute).

He wants to know if the whole of Jabitha was real - where they had a life together, cohabited (set fire to newspaper publishers etc) and so on. Tabitha passionately insists that “it was all real. It all happened.”

Tabitha sits the two of them down to ask Jughead if he remembers their “epic date” at the end of the world, where they had two kids and grew them up and then yeeted them out of existence to be old together. Actually she doesn’t say that - she says “watched Titanic, ate at Pop’s” and it’s Jughead that says “we had a family.” She says that the time bubble where Jughead had a stable, happy, heteronormative married life with a kind, lovely wife and 2 kids “still exists.” Unfortunately, there is one path forward now from here. Here being 1950s Riverdale alternate universe where the youth of Riverdale collectively decided to give themselves selective amnesia. “And that is a good thing, Jughead, trust me!” Tabitha practically shouts.

See, they do this on tv - put words in the mouth of an unassailable character, to say to a beloved character - when they pull one over the audience. We generally trust Tabitha, and she’s staking her name and honor on this point, so we have to go with her on this one. The thing is, Jughead starts crying immediately - he looks crushed.

After a long moment of silent staring with very very sad eyes, Jughead quips that it’s very sad to him that Tabitha had to die to make all this happen. He’s made the logical leap that Tabitha can’t stay because she isn’t just Angel Tabitha she’s Dead Tabitha.

Tabitha retorts that she didn’t die. She says the comet was taken care of, that it won’t happen now because … reasons. Jughead makes an impatient “Augh!” sound, summing it up with “Classic time paradox” which earns him a ‘Oh, you’ type of headshake from Tabitha. They look sadly at each other until Jughead asks to kiss her goodbye. She agrees. The movie theater marquee says “Angels in the Outfield” is coming soon, which… wasn’t that made in the 80s? Anyway, Tabitha flirtily agrees (“Jughead Jones, You read my mind”). Jughead and Tabitha kiss in glamorous slow motion in front of the brightly lit marquee of the movie theater before Tabitha freezes time again and steps away from Jughead.

Jughead is all alone once again, standing there kissing air. Narrator Jughead intones that she’d given them “the greatest gift of all - our memories, edited for maximum joy. The good ones.”

The thing is, Jughead chose to remember all of it, because of course he would. That’s why I love him. He thinks it his duty as “the unofficial chronicler of their town.”

He goes back to the theater, to watch the deceptive super-reels. There’s Kevin? I think? in a tuxedo and bowtie which I assume has to be from prom (in which they all were forced to watch a traumatizing video that Jellybean made to attack her brother and Betty Cooper with). Jughead says that Betty was another person who opted to remember the dark times rather than just get brainwashed by the supercuts reel. “Betty understood that we are made up of moments of both joy and pain.”

I am taking this to mean that 50s Betty was cured of her very alarming stupidity by watching the smart S1-6 Betty do her thing (Because as deranged as that Betty could be, she was never as abjectly stupid as S7 Betty). 50s Betty is shown standing in front of her mirror in what looks like a blood flecked nightgown (that embroidery is horrible), recalling how her other self used to self-harm by digging her nails into her palms. She cries out of pity for herself, apparently, which doesn’t make me like her any better. There’s a lot to cry about in Riverdale, but I don’t know that THIS is the thing to focus on.

We cut to the diner where Jughead is being served coffee by Pops. Jughead is typing away in his booth. He says this is a “cosmic reshuffling.”

“But the stage was set for the final chapter of our epic saga about the Town With Pep, one that could only be called: Goodbye, Riverdale.” The song that plays as he says “Goodbye, Riverdale” is the opening song to the first episode, the one that goes “Tell me/ That I’m your baby/ And you’ll never leave me.” Jughead looks very sad as he looks down at the words, Goodbye Riverdale.

Who is saying this?? Which Jughead? Does 1950s Jughead have his narrator powers back now that Tabitha has gone? And WHERE has Tabitha gone? I mean up until now it’s really been Tabitha that was the Invisible Hand, right? He’s just been told by Angel Tabitha that there is only one path forward, so why is he calling this the FINAL CHAPTER? How does he know that it’s the final episode of the TV series he’s in? Was this the gift of Tabitha’s final kiss?!?

#riverdale opinion #riverdale 7.19 #riverdale s7 recap #riverdale s7 #riverdale episode recap

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