Nashville - Season 1 Episode 2 - Recap and Review - I Can't Help It (If I'm Still In Love With You)

This week's Nashville is a fitting follow-up to last week's fantastic premiere, yet it seems that the show is getting away from the central premise it forwarded in the weeks running up to the premiere; or, rather, it's finding a different way to get there. The show had been promoted as a series in which an aging country star must come to grips with her increasingly diminishing relevancy by joining her tour to that of a young country crossover sensation. This war between old school and new school seemed to be the entire premise, and yet "I Can't Help It (If I'm Still In Love With You)" offers no follow-up on the idea that Rayna James (Connie Britton) will be goaded into touring with someone she doesn't respect, in country-pop artist Juliette Barnes (Hayden Panettiere). However, it does continue the narrative of Rayna and Juliette's budding rivalry, centered almost entirely around their shared affection for the lead guitarist of Rayna's touring band, and her former writing partner/one true love, Deacon Claybourne (Charles Esten). The show has a lot going for it right now, mostly its scarily efficient music and the star-power of Connie Britton, but "I Can't Help It (If I'm Still In Love With You)" also brings some of its other strengths to light, while underplaying the show's weaknesses.

Credit: ABC

It's hard to care about the mayoral candidacy of Rayna's by-turns shady/loving husband, Teddy Conrad (Eric Close), even if his candidacy IS being backed by Rayna's powerful father, Lamar Wyatt (Powers Boothe). The campaign is also in direct competition with the candidacy of Rayna's close friend, Coleman Carlisle (Robert Wisdom), who seems to be a much nicer guy than his opponent, which likely means he can't possibly win the damn thing. But I digress. Getting bogged down in a political quagmire this early on is a lot to ask of an audience, particularly when as much is going on in any given episode as Nashville seems intent on cramming in. I thought it was more than enough to begin the story of Teddy's jealousy over Rayna's status as the breadwinner in their relationship, and her position in the spotlight. That could have been built over several episodes, along with Lamar Wyatt's disdain for his daughter's career, and his desire to front a lucrative construction project he can't get approval from the local government for, such that when those two story threads joined together, it felt natural. Here, the two threads seem jammed together, their seams welded shut. The one positive of the thread is the vetting process, in which the campaign staff essentially performs background checks on Teddy and Rayna's family via a series of very personal interviews. These sessions yield several revelations, namely that Rayna split with Deacon when his substance abuse got so out of control that he was forced to enter rehab, which Rayna paid for out of her own pocket. Rayna adds that she married Teddy while Deacon was in rehab, and Connie Britton's body language in the scene seems to communicate the conflict of a person who hasn't really found closure. Whether the lack of closure translates to residual romantic feelings for Deacon remains to be seen, but the fact of the matter remains: Rayna is crazy territorial about this man that technically isn't hers.

Credit: ABC

Deacon hasn't exactly let Rayna in on the extent of his association with Juliette Barnes. Juliette has all the acceptance in the world, from fans and yes-men alike, but she doesn't have any of the respect to which she feels entitled. And so she goes out of her way to score Deacon Claybourne, first as her lead touring guitarist, then as a writing partner. Juliette utilizes sex and flattery to get Deacon to entertain the idea, and it's not terribly unlike the brand she presents as an artist. While shooting her music video for a song called "Telescope" (a tune calculated to sound like Miranda Lambert-lite), Juliette overhears a production assistant trashing her music. In a fit of insecurity, she demands the assistant fired for daring to voice his opinion, and though it reads onscreen as an overreaction, Panettiere is really growing into the role, showing that Juliette does have talent. It's a lot more raw than the polished package of artistry she believes she presents, but there's certainly something there, something ineffable that can't be taught. A star quality, if you will. And there's actually something close to chemistry between her and Deacon, as they hang out on private property and practice writing and singing a duet together. It descends into tackiness when Juliette decides to go skinny-dipping, and Deacon's figurative fishing rod won't let him say no, but for those few, fleeting moments, you could almost see where Juliette was coming from in feeling that she didn't get enough credit for her own artistry.

Credit: ABC

Nashville conflates songwriting with lovemaking, in a lot of ways. It's the ultimate act of intimacy in this country music circle, where songs are arguably more nakedly personal, owing to a visceral, almost shameless quality. Because who cares what people think? It's artistic expression, and the realer you get, the more honest your insight, the more respect you command. When Watty White (J.D. Souther), Rayna's producer, suggests she go on a tour of smaller venues with Deacon in lieu of touring with Juliette, Rayna is initially hesitant. No one seems to understand why this is a big deal except for Teddy, Rayna, and Deacon, who know that songwriting and musical collaboration can produce more than just a hit record. It leads to a rather potent blow-up between Rayna and Deacon, who argue about their past, with Deacon claiming that Rayna never even tries to make it to the bars and clubs he plays at, with Rayna retorting that he'd better not dare try to argue that she hasn't been there for him. Juliette, in one of her few salient points thus far, describes Deacon and Rayna as an old married couple with all of the hassle, but none of the benefits. And this argument essentially bears this out. The relationship between two musical collaborators is, by turns, ephemeral and continuous. It's as easy to ease in and out of cycles of collaboration as it is to ease in and out of a destructive relationship. There's just something about sharing that level of creative intimacy together that makes it hard for one person to ever truly scrub another out of their life. Even Rayna admits that, while the romantic relationship with Deacon ended long ago, the personal relationship never did. There's a continuity in all matters creative, owing to how much of oneself is required to create something truly affecting, something truly resonant.

Credit: ABC

This is also illustrated in the love triangle between Scarlett O'Connor (Clare Bowen), her writing partner, Gunnar Scott (Sam Palladio), and her boyfriend, Avery Barkley (Jonathan Jackson). Gunnar wants to take Watty White up on his offer to record a demo with them, though Scarlett is hesitant because she can already see how the implication of working with another man is wreaking havoc on her relationship. Upon learning that she and Gunnar performed together at the Bluebird, with Watty White in the audience, Avery gives Scarlett a look that more or less asks "So, is that how it is now?" It's an accusatory line of questioning Avery doesn't actually pursue, but his jealousy is apparent on the surface, and it's only with great difficulty that he congratulates her on her success at all. Given how comparatively poorly his own music career is going, fronting a pop-punk-alt-country mess of a band, it's easy to see how Avery would be frustrated, but it doesn't particularly justify his brooding.

Speaking of the Bluebird, the episode's climax is also its highlight, as Deacon makes up to Rayna by calling her onstage at the Bluebird to perform a duet with him. Juliette, in attendance, is gutted when Deacon announces he's calling someone special up onstage, only to realize that it isn't her. The song is a beaut, much like last week's episode closer, and Nashville is really nailing its musical identity, offering viable crossover tunes with slow, mournful dirges, mixed in with smoky, lonesome ballads. It's a difficult act to carry off, but the show does it remarkably well. Whereas last week, Juliette felt less like a character and more like a plot contrivance to drive a wedge between Rayna and Deacon, here she feels like more of a substantial character in her own right. And Rayna is quickly becoming one of my favorite new characters on TV. She has such a no-nonsense sensibility about her, and Connie Britton really is dynamite in the role. “I Can't Help It (If I'm Still In Love With You)” illustrates that the series still has a lot of kinks it needs to work out, but it also gives hope that it's well on its way to fulfilling the promise of the best parts of that first episode.

Rayna and Deacon Hit a Chord

Avery Hears about Scarlett and Gunnar