The Borgias ep. 9, Nessuno (Nobody) - Recap!

See ya later; Lucrezia Borgia got asses to kick and names to take.

Y'all ready?

Credits, and YO! Everything makes sense now! There's Rodrigo and Giulia's first awkward spider-man kiss; there's Michelotto snapping the shit out of a neck; there's Rodrigo walkin', there's Della Rovere kissin', there's Rodrigo holdin' a rosary, Giulia holdin' a lamb, Juan sexin' a Sancia, and Rodrigo manifesting in a puddle of ink. I am weirdly satisfied, as though I have completed a simple puzzle. And I am enjoying it, for I know henceforth that I shall never have a similar joy towards these opening credits again.

The French army musters. "Muster muster muster," says the Army in that strange language of clanking armour and vague hollering. Della Rovere coaches Charles on Deposition Theory; namely, as we've previously learned from Rodrigo and Dr. McP, that the whole College of Cardinals needs to show up if anything is to be accomplished. "I propose you offer ice cream cake," he suggests, or would if he knew anything about managing people. Giulia curtly warns them that the Cardinals have probably all done what cardinals do best - flown (geddit like the birds?) - but she might be bluffing. The torso-flinging cannon is being towed by honest-to-goodness yaks.

Rome is all empty 'n' shit when they ride through the gate. Charles is underimpressed, given that Dellaro sort of promised him a cheering crowd. Dellaro backpedals a bit, reasoning (logically) that they all like their torsos and decided to hang on to them at all cost. "You truly are a clown, Cardinal," says Charles wearily, and that's the end of that awesome duo. He turns his back and horse's ass to Della Rovere and proceeds to show some love to his new favourite person: "You are a true clairvoyant, Lucrezia Borgia." He asks her to get them an audience with Rodrigo and she Jedi mind tricks him into wanting a private audience. It's really cool. Either that, or he refers to himself as "we" as well, except I don't think he does. Lucrezia hops off her horse (remember when she was a baby four episodes ago and needed everyone to lift her off her horse?) and hands the reins off to Della Rovere, treating him like a groom. Then she leads Charles into the basilica and slams the doors shut with an awesome smirk. Then she orders everyone back from the walls as the bomb she had planted in the floor detonates, leaving minimal damage to the cathedral but killing Charles instantly. Then the poison in the reins seeps through Della Rovere's non-fortified gloves, killing him and turning him a nasty shade of green (as further humiliation).

Not really. But possible, don't you think?

Charles waddles down the aisle of the cathedral, calling "Your Holinaisse?" Rodrigo is FULLY prostrate in front of the altar, like spread eagle balancing on his nose. It's like something I used to try when i was a kid but abandoned because I like my nose in the current shape. But alas, "nose-squishing" and "wingspanny" doesn't really scream "Your Holinaisse," so Charles assumes he's a friar. "I am seeking an audience with the Pope..." He sighs, disappointed with himself. "And I have interrupted a prayer." His gesture is resigned, as though he's just done something awful and knows it can never be fixed. Genuine contrition, that. I think King Charles is the most genuine Christian on this damn show, excepting Djem, of course. Rodrigo pull back his hood to show off his terrifying ashy and deranged face, and Charles is FLOORED. And not even by the murderface. He grins like he's been kissed by Alanis Morrisette herself. And then he flops to his knees and makes out with the Pope's hand. And then he says, all breathy and aghast, "It is not as we expected!" Rodrigo's like, "Yeah I know, other Popes wear ivory blockprint evening gowns and matching capelets, pretty lame, right? Those guys are all phonies. Speaking of which, not as you expected? I was told I was meeting the warring King of France, not some middle-aged cabbage-patch kid!"

Lucrezia walks down our favourite hallway. A door opens behind her. She peers down the hallway in front of her and nervously asks, "Who's there?"

Sorry, was that clear? A door opens behind her. She peers down the hallway in front of her and nervously asks, "Who's there?" Dumb. Dumb. Maybe the pregnancy hormones are giving her a super stiff neck. Or maybe knowing how to melt French kings into bouillabaisse comes at the expense of basic spatial awareness. Either way, Cesare (of course it's Cesare) manages to sneak up behind her and lay a hand (dare I say a trembling hand?) on her shoulder. She looks at it and recognizes it instantly. They do a lot of trembling and panting and staring at each other. Lucrezia brings him up to speed on her latest destiny-revealing exploits but Cesare so doesn't want to talk Papal politics so he pulls her off to that garden with the fountain instead.

Rodrigo lectures Charles for a bit and mindtricks him into admitting that he'd rather give up the burden kinship, to "walk as a man among men." I think he's lonely, which makes me sad. Rodrigo gently quizzes him by asking who they could get to relieve them of this burden, and Charles passes the test with flying colours in his grand verbal essay on Why We, As Catholics, Should Answer God's Calling. Suddenly, poor Chuzzie (this is what I call Charles in my head when I find him adorable) is overcome with remorse for playing God (i.e., doing that cool "rivers of blood" trick) and assuming he's doing right by the Big Guy. So, Wodwigo (something I should have been calling Rodrigo this whole time) suggests he... renew his vows. Which means... a Papal investiture! Remember that little Gioffre conversation earlier on when he helpfully explained that thing about kings?

And then Chuzzie pulls out that pwnage he always carries around in his back pocket: "France, as you must know, your Holinaisse, has traditional claims upon the kingdom of Naples." And without skipping one teeny tiny halfbeat, Rodrigo gasps, "OF COURSE." Guys, who played who here? Because I think Chuzzie just played Worwigo like a fucking LUTE.

I should mention that this whole thing was scored to choirs of angels and then right at the end there a scary minor chord and doomsday timpani.

In the Garden With The Fountain (which I think I could link to the Garden of Eden if I really wanted to, but I won't because there's no real point now, is there?), Cesare probes Lucrezia. For information. God, you guys. She keeps mum, which is smart. And YO, THOSE ARE SOME SHINY PLEATHER PANTS WITH CODPIECE ATTACHMENT. Cesare threatens to fuck Sforza up if he "misused her in any way." Clearly he hasn't realized that he should practically be apologizing to Sforza after Lucrezia finished with him. Then she faints a bit and eventually has to divulge to Cesare that she's pregger macgregor. "The child, thank God," she says with a cute little self-conscious laugh, "is not his." There's no one in Cesare's direct line of vision that he can murder, so he just hugs Lucrezia and fantasizes about murdering instead.

Chuzzie galumphs out of the cathedral, self-congratulating with delicious French swagger as he tells everyone to go crash at random unsuspecting citizens' houses for a bit. "And you'll be pleased to know, Cardinal Della Rovere, that the College of Cardinals will be convened." It looks so bland on paper, but in real life everyone reacted like he'd just told Della Rovere that he would be charged with fulfilling the sexual desires of the entire army for the duration of their stay.

Rodrigo's slipping back into his finery. So that burlap sack thing lasted for about an hour. Hope it didn't irritate your sensitive skin, Rod. He and Cesare gab a bit but nobody cries and nobody slaps anyone else so overall it was kinda filler, except for the part where he makes fun of Chuzzie's looks. Um, Rodrigo, meet Mirror.

There's a squirrelly gentleman in black fiddling around with books. Guess who. Rodrigo delivers this whole damn scene pretending to check out the books and conversationally blackmailing Burchardt McPious into supporting him and making the other cardinals feel like douchebags etc. And the kicker: having them all show up to the Convening in "sack cloth and ashes". The music swells. "Sack cloth and ashes?" Burchardt stammers. I hope their robes are made of literal sack cloth, that is scrotum leather, otherwise there's no need for this kind of overreaction. "Yes," snaps Rodrigo as he saucily slides a book on top of the already teetering stack in Burchardt's hands. He is forced to balance his chin on the top, like that part in Cinderella where Gus the mouse is trying to hoard a bunch of corn kernels. Like this:

Rodrigo leaves with a sassily little over-the-shoulder waves and Burchardt's like "What the crap am I going to do with all these books?"

Courtyard - a nun is sweeping! Is it Ursula? Probably not, but she would be sweeping, wouldn't she? The important thing is that Cesare has led Lucrezia to that messed up chapel and walks her through the means by which she is going to dump Sforza the Rapist's dumb hairy ass: namely, a charge of "non-consummation". She reminds him that her eggo is preggo, but he knows it's not Giovanni's kid, so she starts to seriously bum him out by revealing to him her shitty cherry popping and he covers his ears and screams "LALALALALALA."

Then stupid Ursula walks in, but she's actually not that stupid here because she and Lucrezia hit it off. what can I say, I trust Lucrezia's judgement. Cesare, who has turned into not my favourite character by any means, ruins the sweet-ish moment by essentially promising Ursula to return and sexually harass her frequently. But Ursula ignores him because she's finally gotten over the awesome orgasm Cesare gave her. (My guess is, she's learned how to pluck her own lute strings, if you know what I mean.)

Over dinner, Rodrigo talks shit about Neapolitans, which Charles just thinks is hilarious. "Ha!" he squeaks. Then he gives Cesare a sweet opportunity to compliment his father, which Cesare absolutely refuses to do. Because he's so principled. Whatever. Then Charles debuts his one tiny request: to bring along a Papal legate. Everyone's like gasp, even though "legate, noun, a member of the clergy, esp. a cardinal, representing the pope" doesn't sound like a retardedly impertinent request. But then, oh then, Charles puts on his "I am screwing you and everyone here knows it, so shut up and let me enjoy my orgasm" face: "Oh no, not of your choice, Holy Father: of ours... your son, Cardinal Cesare Borgia." And then the music kindly instructs us that this is serious shit and we should all be worried.

Cesare, for his part, ain't fuckin' doin' it. Neither he, nor his hat. But Rodrigo seems pretty sure that Charles won't be in Naples for long. "We suspect." It's a boring line so I didn't realize it was actually portentous until my second viewing. Also, he tells Cesare to take "your manservant" along, for "entertainment". I want to see Michelotto dryly reciting knock-knock jokes he learned from a book for Cesare's "entertainment". And then Rodrigo drops a hint about an outbreak of plague in Naples that might prompt Cesare to hotfoot it home. You know, so he can carry the plague with him and kill off all the lame tertiary characters.

College of Cardinals - sack cloth and ashes indeed. They actually look a lot more impressive in matching brown burlap and crosses painted on their forehead. I must admit, I'd tremble a bit more when confronted with a wall of Jedi types than a bunch of escapees from a pack of playing cards. But the cardinals all look super grumpy, like "wahhh that guy made us wear sack cloth and now it smells like scrotum in here",  especially Vesucci. In his pretty whites, Rodrigo smirks at all the sack cloth. Then he makes everyone apologize to him and give him all their shit. A secretary keeps careful track of all the shit they're giving him.

In his best Mitre and awesome apricot robes, Rodrigo places a sweet crown with blue velvet on Charles' ugly noggin. Chuzzie looks tight; aside from the crown, he's wearing a huge blue velvet cape trimmed with ermine and patterned with gold fleur-de-lys. Cesare sneaks up behind Della Rovere and they talk in riddles for a bit. The sum total is that Cesare wants Della Rovere to stick around Rome and kisses his ass a bit to get him to agree. When Della Rovere gets stubborn, Cesare just goes "I could have killed you, twice." Which is a lie. Because the truth is that Cesare has tried and failed to kill him twice. Della Rovere calls his bluff and dares him to kill him right here right now. Cesare doesn't, which is almost too bad, except Colm Feore could still do great things for this series.

As the blue French army marchons marchons qu'un sang impur abreuves nos sillons, Cesare riddles him this: if he is indeed just a Legate, he should be able to ride where he wants, shouldn't he? Michelotto agrees, natch. So Cesare takes like two lazy gallops away from the horde and his French flanks are like "Sacre bleu, zee legate is escapeeng!" Cesare laughs and steers himself back toward the horde. Cesare and Michelotto agree with each other several more times. Michelotto's freaky floppy hair is literally the only indicator of time passing on this show. It's really tripping me up. It's like when Chandler got fat or Elaine started using mousse. Crazy.

Later on, the not-Legate and his "manservant" pretend to bond with two froggy soldiers who I think are drunk. Cesare and Michelotto both have this crazed cadence to their voice. Manic. Michelotto's fashioning something that looks vaguely cheese-cutty and Cesare hypes up the audience for Michelotto's show-and-tell. "It's just a cheese cutter, my friend," he says to a skeptical frenchie who asks for a demo. Well, he walked into that one. 

Michelotto efficiently severs the arteries of the one with worse hair while Cesare just pummels the crap out of the skeptic. They grab the cloaks and helmets of their companions, and for a moment I'm really excited that for the first time we're going to get a behind-the-bushes view of that hilarious Wizard of Oz trick (I'm talking of the clothing swap not the Tin Man-on-Lion action) but...

...later when we see those two crazy kids ride through the grey dawn, they're not dressed as Frenchmen. Which is a big disappointment. Less disappointing: they're on their way to Pesaro! Somebody gonna get hurt real bad.

A French gentleman with Anna Wintour hair is not really impressed by Michelotto's cheese cutter and has come to the Vatican to tell it to Rodrigo himself. Rodrigo acts all shocked and horrified at his son's bratty behaviour, assures the ambassador that he gets it from his mother (who is a syphilitic ex-courtesan, by-the-by) and offers another cardinal in his stead - "Like, oh, say, my good buddy Sforza. How 'bout it, Ascanio, ol' buddy?" Sforza's like fiiiiiine. The ambassador's like suuuure. "And please convey to him our wholehearted support for his 'Neapolitan Adventure'." (Spin-off idea: Chuzzie's Big Adventure.) Apparently "adventure" used to mean something, because Frenchie assures the Pope that they do not think of it as such. "Maybe Naples does," Rodrigo zings, and then goes off to play his third charade of the day.

Meanwhile, Chezz and Mick have made it to Pesaro. Sforza walks all two-legged through the hungry hungry dogs. Michelotto stands all clenched around the corner. As Sforza pets his canine pals and asks them to rate their hunger on a scale from uno to diece, Michelotto clubs him over the head (knocking him out instantly), bundles him into a stack, and throws him into the cart. Cesare does not lift a finger to help. Michelotto thinks killing would be easier, but Cesare wants to do it the hard way.

Night. Cesare and Michelotto pull into the stables. The sack's wriggling a big, but not actively trying to escape, which is smart, I guess. Michelotto throws the sack to the ground and then Cesare pulls it to its feet. Sforza's standing there grunting and he looks entirely like a kid in a bad ghost costume. Or that thing where you zip yourself into your sleeping bag and try to walk around. Then Cesare knocks him down again and kicks him a few times for good measure. I keep remembering with a jolt that Cesare is dealing with both his sister's attacker and his romantic rival and I like Cesare just a little bit more.

Later on, the three of them march down the hall. I expected/hoped for Sforza to appear still wearing the sack. No such luck. He's all furious and highly affronted as he's shoved into a small scheming room containing Rodrigo and McBurchardt. Rodrigo seems a little disturbed at the report that Cesare was a bit brutal with Sforza the Rapist, but reasons hilariously, "Well, you're here now, and your safe. That's the main thing, is it not?" He claps Sforza on the shoulder, sending up little mushroom clouds of dust and frowning at the dirt on his pretty white gloves. He attempts to clap the dirt off his hands as he informs Sforza that he's been brought to Rome to sort out the annulment of his marriage, which is new to him. Which bugs me, because the guy was never so hot on the marriage in the first place. Anyway, Rodrigo points out that Sforza did not hold up his end of the bargain, rather the opposite in fact, and "the marriage bed, we are told, was far from happy." And this is about the only situation that canon law is clear on. Burchardt pipes up in agreement, that the only grounds for annulment is "non-consummation". Sforza smirks.

Naturally, the history of two people's crotches in a matter of celestial proportions, so the College is convened. Lucrezia takes the stand in a black gown from behind a screen - a good thing, since her uterus has exploded. Would that I could conduct my life from behind a screen on days when I feel bloated. Burchardt gently asks her to discribe the grave disappointment of her wedding night. "It was disturbing, your honour, in the extreme." She acts super embarrassed to be talking about such matters, but Rodrigo assures her they are of grave importance. Christ on a moped, what universe is this!? "My husband... turned out..." "Please proceed," croaks Burchardt, who can really play a role. "Turned out... to be IMPOTENT." The crowd loses their shit IMMEDIATELY. Just roars of laughter. Even Giovanni sniggers abit before yelling "Monstrous, this is monstrous, I can prove it, on the wedding night..." Whoops! Lucrezia passed out in her tiramisu on the wedding night, and everybody probably knows it. Burchardt goes "Yes?" and cups his hand to his ear. Well, it becomes clear that Giovanni ain't got no proof, and then Burchardt brings up delightedly that there are "precedents for a demonstration of... potenssssy". WHAT? "The Lord Sforza could demonstrate his claims to full potency with the Lady Lucrezia before a gathering of canon lawyers." Rodrigo nixes that for Lucrezia's sake and Giovanni's and Giovanni is outraged. Alternative: he could just do it with a couple of "willing maidens" instead. You guys, I'm confused: if he demonstrates adultery right in front of the Pope he gets to keep his marriage!? WHAT UNIVERSE IS THIS!? It's decided that they're going to spare Sforza a trial-by-boning in front of everyone, including a jury of Roman citizens; just in front of the Cardinals would suffice. The cardinals snigger and chortle and guffaw. Lucrezia smiles serenely and caresses her belly.

Later, Giovanni re-enters the room in his chemise. The music is all goofy and it all parallels the examination testes and pendentes scene. A big furry mat is laid over a table. The doors are opened and two voluptuous, messy-haired courtesans in sloppy underclothes enter and kneel before the chair. The, erm, larger one asks whether they'd prefer a ménage à deux ou trois. Burchardt asks for one. The larger one calls dibs and scoots up onto the "bed", spreading her legs immediately. When Sforza hesitates, she purrs, "Do these thighs not please you?" And everyone laughs and laughs. Sforza realizes that he's now choosing between two awful situations: he could try to get it up under the gleaming eyes of the all-male, sniggering College of Cardinals (with minimal wanking and no foreplay) before diving into strange prostitute crotch in an era before universal hygiene really took off (sorry about that image); or, he could be publicly labelled as dead in the pants. And I think he's humble enough to realize that his chances with the former option are decreasing exponentially every second the awkward-meter in the room rises. So, as the last shreds of his reputation give him the finger and fly out his bellybutton, he mutters, "Give me a divorce." On what grounds? "...impotence." Burchardt makes him spell it out in excruciating detail as the Cardinals laugh louder and louder - hey, assholes, y'all were wearing scrotum dresses just the other day, try for a little decency.

Sforza the Impotent Racist rides out into a jeering, cabbage-throwing crowd of cackling hungarian extras. A path clears for his horse and the class clown gallops backwards in front of his horse, wearing a grey Arlecchino mask and waving a butternut squash in front of his loins. His buddy comes along and beheads the squash with a machete. People are chucking all manners of produce, but it's not scary produce like in The Hunchback of Notre Dame; it's kind of good-natured produce, if that means anything at all.

Meanwhile, Chuzzie and Friends have arrived in Naples and seem less than impressed with the beautiful seaside fortress because it is empty and apparently stinks of death. Charles walks around with a handkerchief over his nose.

Someone screams, but it's just Lucrezia, miles away in a Roman convent. Baby's coming! She's all sweaty and a midwife is doing her thing. Lucrezia in in the whole "my vagina is about to explode without the miracles of modern medicine to piece it back together" panic mode and insists that she is going to die, and begs everyone not to let her child die. It's pretty effective. Ursula mops her brow and promises that nobody's going to die, but she look pretty panicky herself. Although that's understandable. The midwife tells her to push and Lucrezia tries to focus with her lamaze breaths, but everything comes ripping out in an anguished "YEEEAAAAAAA!" that echoes through to the hall where Cesare is pacing.

In comes Vanossa - why does it feel like forever since we've seen her? "YEEEAAAAAaaaaAAA!" I guess mothers weren't even customary in the delivery room then; otherwise I don't understand why Vanossa doesn't cut an run immediately to her daughter's side.

General Blond and some other guy seek out the hotsprings all excited to swim, but instead of warm mineral-rich water all they see is a bunch of grey corpses. Yuckers. "Plague," concludes General Blond, and everyone starts to suspect that they, in fact, are the ones who have been outwitted. Hey, is that what Ferrante died of, or was he just plain old?

"EEEUURGGHHHNNN." Couldn't have said it better myself. The midwife is not really doing her job; she's mostly acting nervous and washing her hands.

But YAY, Little Gioffre's here! He runs ahead to hug Vanossa while Juan and Sancia enter side-by-side, as though they were Gioffre's parents; its a weird but strangely comfortable three-person family. Sancia excitedly asks if Lucrezia's delivered yet. And this is the first time we've seen Juan this episode, which is criminal. The door opens once more, and everyone turns to see La Bella Farnese, walking self-consciously but calmly, Rodrigo standing in the shadow behind her. Vanossa walks forward hesitantly and she and Giulia make an unspoken agreement to be cool, just for today. Vanossa pokes gentle fun at Rodrigo for not being able to handle her description of the birthing pains. "With one, I was in agony for days, do you remember?" "I remember... the joy of holding him in my arms. A brother for little Cesare at last." And the way it's written (I think it was intentional), it could be read as "With the first", implying that Juan and not Cesare was their first child. I hope Juan caught that; I think it would do wonders for his self-esteem if he thought he was the more legitimate out of the two. But, whereas François Arnaud actually looks like a cross between Joanne Whaley and a young Jeremy Irons, David Oakes looks pretty much like a cross between Steve Perry's mom and Steve Perry's dad. Vanossa is powerfully touched by the memory. Cesare caresses little Gioffre's head affectionately. Without saying it outright, Rodrigo and Vanossa mutually realize that their children are officially no longer children. Giulia marvels at the depth and history of the family she's somehow become a part of.

Suddenly, a baby's cry blasts through the hall and they all run to the birthing room--

--and Charles steps into the Dining Room of Eternal Despair, but the lighting is so similar that for a panicky second I thought it was the birthing room and everyone died. Well, the "Original 9" around the table have been joined by about twenty or thirty more plumper, unstuffed companions in death piled up around the floor. Charles is overcome and bolts out of the room.

And finally the baby! ...Who sprung from the room about three months old. Lucrezia's exhausted, shiny and smiling. Cesare approaches Ursula and goes "May I?" then, "Hold?" to clarify. He's a dick for thinking he has to clarify, but I forgive him. He checks under the blanket. It's a figlio! The music swells as Cesare passes the giant newborn to his father the Pope, who stares at his grandson in awe. Ursula allows herself a selfish moment to feel sad about her feelings towards Cesare, but there are so many emotions flying around the room, that I can't really blame her. Cesare makes sure Rodrigo's got a firm hold on the baby's head and then lets him go. Ursula suggests they give thanks. Cesare wise-assedly goes, "Whom should we thank?" And everyone can see the next line coming but foresight is not enough do make it any less obvious or painful-sounding: "GOD." He passes the baby to its smiling mother and marvels at the fortune and survival of their weird family that somehow manages to work. "He's beautiful," sighs Sancia as the last line of the series, and Rodrigo chuckles happily as they all huddle close and smile beatifically at their new Madonna and Child.

Guys, I like to think I've controlled myself pretty well with the Lion King references, but it behooves me to point out that great stories end with beautiful new life:

Credits.