#rewatching rizzoli and isles

[itwasmagic]

.

[tulipfromtheinternet]

Wish there were more procedurals where the partners are women.

[aflawedfashion]

Maura & Jane | Rizzoli & Isles 1x01

[ladyriot]

Sometimes I swear Rizzoli & Isles is just a show so very, very bad at crafting believable romances that Jane and Maura seem like a couple because there's no one trying to make them a pair by crafting weird romantic scenes that don't work—where the actors are either giving nothing or literally looking uncomfortable.

The romances in this show are almost entirely laughably bad and often cringe-worthy. In the early seasons, you can see glimpses of how it seems like they were trying to test different romances to see what could work. For example, there's a pseudo-romantic scene where Maura tries to help Frost get over his "morgue-legs" or one when Maura and Frankie are alone together in Maura's office as he tries to pass his detective exam. But these moments read as so awkward, I couldn't possibly see romance in them.

And don't even let me get to Jane because those are worse. She is a completely different character in most of her romantic encounters than anytime else. And it could be so interesting if they leaned into that instead of changing the rest of her character to meet it in those last seasons we don't talk about. But, all of her romances look so uncomfortable and without chemistry.

Sometimes I really, really think it's just that Rizzoli & Isles can't do romance well that all the canon relationships look so fake that the central "friendship" is the only thing that makes any sense as romance at all.

But then I see the awful queerbait marketing and I question all of that.

[binxsthings]

THIS SCENE RIGHT HERE YOUR HONOR

[perfectstormrising]

Rizzoli & Isles is bizarre. why is the chief medical examiner interviewing a witness

[ohlookmypeach]

You know what Rizzoli & Isles lacks.. other than the obvious… Holiday episodes no Christmas, Halloween.. nothing.

[anthrofreshtodeath]

June prompts #8 please and thank you

Last one - let's do it! 8 is "discovering common interests" and this is merely shameless self-indulgence in one of my own pet interests.

___

“I don’t mind hangin’ out,” Jane says hoarsely. She stands where she stood when she first opened her arms for Maura, just after Maura had opened the front door, letting Jane in as she cried. “You know I’ll hang out with you forever. But is this… did he do it in here?”

Maura dabs her eyes with a new tissue, pulling her light sweater closer to her body just to replace the feeling of Jane on her. “Do what…?” asks Maura even though she’s hesitant to answer. Jane couldn’t possibly mean…

“The leavin’,” clarifies Jane. She leans one hand on the granite of Maura’s kitchen island and puts the other thumb under her belt, right next to the buckle. She looks around, and zeroes in on another one of Angela’s pathologically labeled cabinets. She pushes away and walks toward the wine fridge. She lets the bottle ping on the counter, and props open the door that says stemware. She pulls out two glasses.

Maura sniffles, small and with a latent hiccup, but she goes to the drawer with the corkscrews and pulls out the one she’d normally use for this full-bodied red. “Yes, to answer your question,” she says. She wonders if Jane knows she’s picked an Italian wine to counter Ian’s quite pedestrian, working-class Californian from yesterday. “He stopped here to say goodbye before his flight.”

Jane knows nothing about wine, but every right decision Jane makes is instinctual. Just like the decision to tug on her tight purple tee. She adjusts it until it spreads just right against her abdomen, long and toned and now visible in outline. “Thought so,” she tells Maura. She pours the wine once Maura opens it, and carries both glasses to the front hallway. 

Maura smiles, tired, confused, but happy to simply have Jane around. “He often doesn’t say goodbye at all. Which is why I… why I think I’ll never see him again.” And just like that, the tears return, unshed, but welling.

Jane nods. She provides Maura with some silence - cry if you need to, I’m not here to make you forget. Maura doesn’t crumble, even if she falters a little bit, and Jane nods in the direction of the staircase. “Change of scenery? It’s probably for the best,” she says.

Maura’s eyebrow curls up. “The bedroom?” she asks, intrigued. 

Jane blushes. “I’m not that kinda girl, Doctor Isles,” she replies. “At least, not while someone’s just had their heart stomped on. I was thinkin’ the library. There’s a sofa in there.”

Now it is Maura’s turn to blush. “Of course. That actually sounds wonderful,” she says. 

Jane waits, as Jane always does, for Maura to walk ahead, so that Jane can watch her back, even in Maura’s own home. Maura looks so diminutive when she shuffles on her bare feet back to the stairs; Jane wants to use her entire body to swallow Maura up again. She settles for pressing her front against Maura’s back when Maura pauses at the first step. It’s dark, but a dim light bleeds down from the second floor at the end of the hall. “What’s up?” Jane breathes, rather than asks, right into the crown of Maura’s hair. 

“My… I need to know that you really don’t want to go to the bedroom. Because it isn’t… well. The bed isn’t made,” Maura whispers.

“Climb the stairs, Maura. The books are waiting,” snarks Jane. She hears what Maura isn’t saying, and though it irks her, the implication, she holds one of the glasses of wine by the rim, fingers spread against the lip of it, and puts it in front of Maura’s chest. A gesture of goodwill. Of love. 

Maura takes the alcohol and obeys, coordinated enough to sip and climb at the same time. She takes the first left, and finds the light switch from memory. “Do you want a blanket?” she asks Jane.

“Let me handle it,” Jane says. She pulls the biggest blanket from the basket at the end of the sofa, smaller than the one in Maura’s living room, but a fluffier, cozier. She kicks off her boots, sits down, drapes the blanket over her knees, and then holds it open, eyeing Maura over.

Maura sighs. The emotion ripples over her face again, and she begins to cry when she finally collapses against Jane, has Jane wrap an arm around her while she curls close. Only minutes since their last embrace and she is starved for it. She sobs softly, almost silently, when Jane settles into the cushions and lets Maura snake arms around Jane’s torso. “I’m sorry,” Maura hiccups when she can.

“For what? Doesn’t seem like you were the one who did anything wrong,” Jane asserts. She looks ahead, and not at Maura, just to give her a little dignity. Maura thrives on dignity. “Who leaves you?”

“Not you,” Maura says quietly, tucked like a child into Jane’s side. The fit is heavy. It feels good. 

Jane is quiet for five long minutes. She sips slowly, occasionally, and eventually, Maura sits back up and joins her, pulling her glass from the small coffee table. They are still snuggled close, but now both upright and drinking. Jane studies the titles across from her along the wall-to-wall bookshelves until she gasps. “No way,” she exclaims softly.

Maura perks up. “What?” she presses.

“Snow - my favorite is the Franklin,” Jane points. She doesn’t get up, because neither of them seem to want that. 

“Storms and Shipwrecks of New England?” Maura asks. Her hand goes to the skin of Jane’s chest and she presses as she pulls back to stare with incredulity. “Really?”

“Don’t act so shocked,” Jane grumbles. 

“It’s just… you hate going out on boats,” Maura tries to save herself, but her chuckle betrays her. “Edward Rowe Snow - really?” 

“When I was a kid, I read that book cover to cover at least ten times,” Jane explains. 

Maura’s jaw drops. “Me too,” she confesses. “Of course you would like the story about cannibalism. The saddest was ‘The Wreck of the General Arnold.’”

“Yeah, not great,” Jane says. She pauses, thinking. Then she taps Maura's shoulder. “Let’s go to the Cape this summer.”

“You hate the Cape,” Maura responds. “You hate how crowded it gets.”

“But…. they have that pirate museum for the Whydah in Yarmouth,” Jane says. “I think we’d have fun. And we’ll beat the crowds if we go in the middle of June.”

Maura considers, and then she snuggles back into her previous position. “It would be fun,” she concurs. “Jane?”

“And yeah there was cannibalism, but the moral of the story is never give up - because those two sailors braved the rough seas and even though they perished, the stranded men got saved because of them,” Jane continues on her previous train of thought, voice soft and deep like how it gets just before she sleeps.

“Jane,” Maura tries again, more firmly this time.

“Huh? Yeah,” Jane hears her, takes another sip of wine. 

“You won’t leave me, right? You’re here to stay?” Maura asks.

Jane shakes her head. “You remember when we took out Marino-”

“When you took out Marino.”

“When we took out Marino, and I was layin’ there, guts, uh, guts spillin’ out?”

“God,” Maura starts to cry again, “how could I forget? Why would you bring that up?”

“Because you put ‘em back in. You didn’t leave. You braved rough seas, had me all over your hands. And that had to be some of the scariest shit you’d ever seen,” Jane says. She takes confidence in this truth. For all the genocide and war Maura has seen, the malaria and the trauma, holding Jane’s insides to keep them from coming outside? Maura hasn’t ever been the same. Not worse, not smaller, but changed. “But you stayed. So you can trust that I’m gonna stay, too. To the bitter end. But not just then, you know? During all the good parts, too. Like the Whydah museum parts. And like the ‘when I eventually say yeah let’s go to the bedroom’ parts.”

“Do you… do you think you’ll say that?” Maura blinks, forces Jane to look at her.

Jane furrows her brow, purses her lips. But then she says, “I think it’s gonna need a deep clean first.”

Maura knows this means more than the words Jane has used, that the sentiment runs deeper, but she can’t help it. “I’ll get Anita here on Monday,” she promises with a deadpan.

Jane cracks a smirk. “Might need CSRU instead,” she jokes. “Take it easy tonight, though, yeah? Nice and slow. Why don’t I grab ol’ Snow off the shelf and read us a few chapters? We can do some of my favorites and some of yours.”

“That… sounds wonderful,” Maura breathes for the second time tonight.  “You got it,” says Jane, getting up and crossing over to the array of titles across from them. They’re definitely reading about the Franklin first.

[kathrynmhahn]

i wish my brain was smart enough to watch 3 shows at once and fully understand and comprehend whats going on in all of the shows at the same time

[msburgundy]

my 2 genres are copaganda tv shows and musical movies

[thoughtsofthegirlwiththecurl]

I have drunk half a bottle of honey in the last 2 days and it was STILL not enough to save my vocal cords. Truly, the first time in my life honey has let me down 😭

Now I'm out here like Ariel after Ursula gives her legs trying to mime shit to my family.

[aflawedfashion]

Maura & Jane | Rizzoli & Isles 1x01

[ladyriot]

Can I just say the writers did something so interesting in making Maura's favourite book Anne of Green Gables? And especially in bringing it up in this episode (5x12, yes I'm watching this show very fast; sue me, it's the weekend). The undercurrent it gives knowing that story while watching this one blows my mind.

So in this episode, Maura has to connect with her own childhood to access a connection with Jack's daughter and it so clearly digs up some things for her. She wants to impress her.

If you can't tell by my spelling alone, I'm a Canadian. And I studied English in university, so of course I've looked at this book in academic context before. Anne of Green Gables is something that gets analyzed as queer, as neurodivergent, and as trauma narrative. And oh my gosh is that interesting in the context of a character like Maura.

Maura who, like Anne, has a lonely childhood where she feels unwanted. Anne whose upbringing as an orphan is really tough with early guardians who only see her value in what she does for others and not who she is herself. Anne who combats that loneliness and darkness in part by trying to be unique, who loves flowers and beautiful things and wants nothing more than a specific cut of dress she's never had before and to be liked and wanted. Anne who creates this rich inner world and daydreams all the time to avoid the realities of her life (anyone remember Maura's wedding fantasies?). Anne who gets mocked and teased at school, but also has an imaginative side that draws in a whole host of friends too. I can see Maura wanting that part, seeing a beacon of hope in her because she's different but she's loved.

And, oh, could I go on. Anne whose trauma and neurodivergent traits have her constantly assuming her new guardians don't want her every time she makes a mistake or makes a mess of things, who constantly sees herself as bad, who can so easily see herself as trouble, as someone who only gets to ruin things and doesn't get to have things (some possible rejection sensitive dysphoria in that). Uh, big Maura vibes. I talk just a little about Maura being similar in this post here, but I could go on with that too.

Maura is still insecure. She still immediately assumes people won't like her, that Jack's daughter won't like her. That nobody wants her for real or for very long or when she can't give them something. She talks about being a weird kid in this episode. She tells Allie this:

I've seen literary analysis suggesting Anne might have possible ADHD, possible autism or cptsd. Maura, are you sitting over there and relating? Anne socializes differently. Anne gets caught up in all sorts of trouble because she thinks and acts differently, interacting with the world in a way unlike she's always expected to by others. Anne goes on long winded asides, giving stories to nature and ordinary things to the annoyance and/or affection of the people around her. She's constantly seeking out "kindred spirits" who get her even though she's different... like Maura does, like Maura probably wanted very much when she was young and reading this. Like Maura probably still does as she goes on her 'joy of science' asides.

And, Anne's often read as queer due to her almost overly dedicated friendship with Diana. For instance, Anne goes into this melodramatic tirade when Diana's parents don't want them spending time together after an accident with alcohol, with an over-the-top apology and very very mushy goodbye. They refer to each other as "bosom friends" and hold their friendship above all their others in a way that often reads queer. Now come on, this is Rizzoli and Isles, Jane and Maura. If you don't want me to read Maura as queer, Anne of Green Gables is the worst story to say is her favourite. And the worst story to bring up in this episode.

This is such an interesting choice for the storytelling to take. I just can't let it go as coincidence. I just take it as confirmation that Maura saw herself in all these aspects of Anne's character. Which, all in all, makes the end of this episode even more cutting. This is Maura watching her bosom friend, her kindred spirit, her Diana jump off a bridge and leave her alone.

And oh my god is that compelling.

[binxsthings]

redmond jones mom callin jane a skinny greaseball dyke AHSHHHD why she clock her like that

[aryaadrottning]

Reviving this account to say I’m back in my criminal minds era bc I’m rewatching from the beginning

[fenway03]

On "Rizzoli & Isles" we had some women [directors], mostly men. Lot of times the women didn't come back. They were asked once, did not return. Why? It was a weird thing. Like, here you have this pretty female-centric show, and it was really hard… I just didn't understand it. And then I started to see reasons for it. Some of it was that you have an all-male crew, and they don't wanna be bossed around by a woman. Or a woman comes in and the way [she bosses] them around just doesn't sit right. It was true. I mean, this was a boys club.

– Sasha Alexander on Off Duty: An NCIS Rewatch video podcast (2024/06/04)

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Today's entry in our ongoing series called Things That Could've Been Better With Fewer Men Involved...