American Horror Story: Hotel Is Under New Management To Serve You Better...Just In Time For The Season To End

The All-New Hotel Cortez!

It's a new era at the Cortez with Iris and Liz at the helm, but it's not enough for them to say it's so, or to sell all of Countess Elizabeth's art to raise the cash to redesign the rooms: they're also going to need the internet to know how much less terrifying the Cortez has become, and for that they'll need positive reviews. Which is why they're falling all over these guests and offering them complimentary champagne: Iris is pretty sure they're from TripAdventurer.com. When Liz shows them to their accommodations, will they be as grossed out as every previous guest who wasn't a degenerate junkie has?

NOT THIS ROOM, HONEY. Of course a hotel room designed by Liz Taylor is gorgeous and perfect, with 400-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, free mixers in the mini-bar, and...free wifi?! What do I actually have to do to move in to this joint, and I am serious. A little light murder? But the wifi is free. Guys, I'm going to have to give this one some pretty serious thought.

Hold up, I might get murdered? ...But there's room service?

Murder Isn't Working, And That's All We're Good At

Who called the meeting? Iris and Liz.

What's it about? Certain ghosts -- and they don't want to name any names -- killing guests, making messes on the nice new carpets and ruining the new managers' hopes of getting Liked on social media.

How'd it go? Everyone keeps it civil and professional at first, but it starts to turn when Will accuses Iris of being "the biggest killer in here." Iris calmly replies that she only drinks donated blood now (not sure what that means -- whose? Who would supply her but Liz?), so Sally takes over and complains that everyone knows Liz and Iris are only really talking about Will and Sally, since Mr. Wu doesn't do anything except fuck the two Swedish girls (or, as Sally puts it, is "busy munching on Swedish fish," the kind of gag that makes me assume this season-finale payoff was the reason those characters were Swedish in the first place), and Marcy the poor real estate agent just wants to read her erotica and throw a downstairs DJ party in peace.

Will and Sally have barely started defending their murderous "mischief" when March marches in to back up Liz and Iris.

(And, by the way, I guess THAT moment means that either Miss Evers's banishment has been lifted, or she never took it that seriously to begin with. Whatever: she stays through to the end. March needs to enforce consequences or no one's going to take him seriously!) "You telling us to stop killing is like Colonel Sanders telling us to stop eating chicken," drones Sally, in a horrendously unfunny joke that shouldn't have ever made it out of the writers' room but, once it did, should have been vetoed by Sarah Paulson, I MEAN HONESTLY, SO HACK IT'S LATE-ERA CHARLIE'S ANGELS STAR SHELLEY HACK...or so I thought until I heard March's rejoinder: "I'm not familiar with your military friend and his fondness for poultry...." Reluctant hee hee. But then, Evan Peters in this role can sell anything. Moving on: he says he had thought that the Ten Commandments Killings would be the start of his career, but now he knows they're the end, and while he gets that everyone loves all the murder, they have to cool it for practicality's sake: "This is our home! Frankly, it's the only one we've got. None of us know what is waiting for us beyond this place if it no longer stands. Perhaps without these walls to protect us, we would all be forced to move on -- face the judgment of our Maker." Iris says that if she and Liz can't maintain the business, they'll be forced to sell the property, and the ghosts will be evicted. (I'm not sure how -- they weren't when Will bought it -- but IT'S THE SEASON FINALE, so fine.) Will sniffs that he bought the hotel in cash and that his lawyers will continue paying taxes and upkeep for as long as there's money to do so, to which Iris has to tell him, uh, no, actually, they're going to run out soon, since Will never brought in anyone to design his line after he "disappeared," and now his "stock is worth pennies."

March goes on to say that this isn't a democracy, it's a cheerocracy "ship at sea," and that he's their captain. In that capacity, he has some knowledge to drop on all their asses: there are six criteria for the Department of the Interior to grant a building landmark status, and the Cortez meets them all -- except age. Ten years from now, the Cortez will be 100 years old, at which time no one will be able to knock it down even if they wanted to. Therefore, everyone's going to have to just go on a murder fast.

But guess who can't be reasonable and has to whine out all her emo shit to a group of people who pretty clearly don't give a shit? Stupid Sally the suck queen declares that she isn't going to stop "collecting souls" until she's found her soulmate. (Ugh, if I thought that meant she would murder the also fictional character Dawson Leery, I might be in favour.) March darkly warns her that he has ways of making her do what he wants her to.

Which reminds me, now that as I write this I've actually seen to the end of the episode: that sure was a gross thing that I'm pretty sure wasn't ever explained! But Sally can't be moved, chucking her glass at the wall like the petulant junkie child she is: "The point of being dead is that there are no rules: it's the only salvation. Who gives a shit if they tear this place down and send us all straight to hell? It can't be any worse." I definitely agree that hell wouldn't be worse than hanging out with you, LADY.

Friend Request Accepted

Since March's authoritarian attitude did not persuade Sally, like, at all, Iris has decided to take a more sensitive approach and speak to Sally one-on-one about things she could do that would boost her self-esteem that don't involve brutally slaying anyone. Iris gently broaches the subject of Lowe, and how Sally must have really loved him since she hasn't been the same since he left: "You love him, in the only way you knew how. He turned his back on you after all you'd done for him. I know how that feels." Sally snarls that Iris doesn't know the first thing about Sally's pain, and that the only thing that ever makes her feel better is when she can pull someone else under with her and make them feel a little of what she feels -- that way, she's not alone. But all of Sally's victims, Iris says, are just Band-Aids; Iris can give Sally a future. And by that she means an iPhone. Sally, who died in 1994, doesn't get it, so Iris explains that she can go forward and live...on Twitter, and Instagram, and Facebook. Sure, Sally can't leave the hotel, but it doesn't matter: "In the modern age, no one ever has to be alone, even for a second." That's a creepy way to put it, but it's also, I guess, true, in a way? (Does the Cortez get MTV? Sally maybe shouldn't watch Catfish.) Montage alert!

"I hate everyone." "Cheer up?" Of course a narcissist like Sally would instinctively know how to vaguebook. Sally loves social media so much that "being numb to the world finally lost its appeal."

You Can Rebrand It "Boolenciaga"!

Who called the meeting? Liz.

What's it about? Giving Will something to do that isn't killing people.

How'd it go? At first, it's a drag (pun intended, but also not). We learn that it's been a year since Will was killed, and he's upset that the business that bears his name is dead. Liz tells him it's not dead, but it is dying: the board of directors discontinued the couture division, but that fragrances and sunglasses are bankrolling everything else. (There's an afterthoughtish mention of Lachlan, whom Liz enrolled at the Thatcher School in Ojai; he suggests that Will arrange a visit, but Will doesn't want Lachlan to be poisoned by the Cortez.)

Liz then changes the subject: she has a proposition. "You're beautiful but you're not my type," says Will -- and not very kindly, but I guess he's kind of having A Day. Liz says that trapped spirits are going to be miserable if they haven't found their purpose, but Will already has one: his fashion house was iconic. Will mopes that it had already been headed for disaster for a while, but Liz cheerfully tells him that California is a place for reinvention: "I mean, look what this place did for me!" Since everyone has come up with scandalous explanations for where Will is -- "rehab, madness, illness" -- he can exploit that for publicity; people love a mystery. She drops a sketchbook in front of Will and orders him, "Sketch. Create. Be part of the world again." Will crabs that there's more to running a fashion house than sketching: "A line needs a face."

"I was a salesman in another life. In this one, I'm the mother of style. Cut me and I bleed Dior." See, Will doesn't have to be dead, officially. (The cops already believe he's alive, after all.) He can just be holed up in his happy place, like a sane Howard Hughes. (George Lucas?)

And this pep talk works, because the next thing we see is Liz striding into the boardroom and taking over, announcing that she has full authority to act on his behalf. Some basic white guy declares that he doesn't accept Liz's taking control, so a guy at her right hand confirms that he talked to Will and that it's true, and Liz gets to fire her opponent.

Kudos to whomever found this dictionary definition of "old white turd," because this flummoxed reaction to someone who ISN'T an old white turd telling him how shit's going to be is one of my favourite things about this season. Take that, Patriarchy!

Get The Look: The Greater Gatsby

Liz encourages Will to be inspired by what's around him, and since I guess Will can't open a book or look out a window, that ends up being Art Deco. Way to stretch, bro. (It is, however, fun to see the ghosts and monsters stomping the runway.)

Satin: Do you love going to the dry cleaner? Buy satin.

Doctor Zhivago, Or Something? Will searched the world to source its very yellowest gold!

Here Comes The Bride: If you think I have a syllable to say against this model, you are insane.

The Sense Of An Ending

Mama's Family

After the disappointment with Billie and Tristan's failure to show himself, Liz's voice-over tells us, she thought love was over. But life -- new life -- can surprise you...

...as we see Doug's wife Janice giving birth and Liz right there talking her through it, the only doula who's ever worn couture to a delivery. As we watch Liz cut the cord, she narrates, "In Isabel's face, I saw the future. She was being born into a world just a little more accepting than the one I had been born into, and maybe, just maybe, I had a little something to do with that. A little kindness, acceptance -- that transformed me in ways nothing else ever could." Aw. It's the season finale, so I guess it's time for Ryan Murphy to remember that fostering tolerance and diversity is supposed to be, like, his thing since Glee.

R.I.P. Liz

Because Liz is the best, it's time for her to get cancer. She tells Ramona that she's past the point of treatment, adding, "Which is probably for the best, 'cause I would to lose my hair" Ramona suggests that there's probably something Ramona could do for her, but Liz scoffs at the idea of Ramona turning her: "Hell, I don't even like my steak bloody." And she can't imagine killing in order to live. Ramona asks whether she's told her "kids" yet (which, aw, I love that even Ramona considers Janice Liz's full daughter), but Liz says if she's lucky she won't have to: they can just keep visiting her at the Cortez.

And...of course they can! But to make sure, she's gathered all her ghost friends to inform them that she's the first woman in the world to have prostate cancer: it's spread to her spine and there's nothing to be done. Will offers to pay for the best specialists, but Liz doesn't want to end her life hooked up to machines in a hospital. Agnetha asks who will take care of all the hotel's ghosts, and Liz tells them that's why they're there -- because in addition to gathering all her friends, she's also gathered a shitload of murder weapons. She wants them each to pick one and go to town on her: "Hack me. Strangle me. Bludgeon me. Surprise me!" Miss Evers says she can't imagine murdering Liz when she and everyone else treasures her so, but Sally replies, "It's not murder. She wants to be reborn." "You're my family," says Liz. "I want to be with you forever."

GODDAMN THIS SONG. As soon as the first chords strike, I'm already choking up, and as the tearful ghosts take their weapons of choice off the bed while Liz lies down serenely among them, I start crying for real, and just as Sally has pulled back her arm to prepare to plunge a needle right into Liz's heart...

...OH MAN. The Countess/Liz friendship is the one I have believed in the most -- to me, the Countess killed Tristan not because if she couldn't have him no one could, but because he came between the Countess and her dearest friend -- and when Liz's voice-over intones, "It was the first time I'd seen her since she died. Only in that moment did I realize just how much I missed her," I FUCKING LOSE IT. "How did you know to come?" asks Liz. "You were always my fondest creation," the Countess tells her. "I wanted to be here to help you transition." SUCH A CORNY LINE BUT I DGAFFFFFFFFF. The Countess cradles Liz's head as she leans her back down, readies her finger-razor...

...and grants Liz her immortality. EVERYONE CRIES, INCLUDING ME. But it's not over!

Ghost Liz, standing over her bleeding corpse, has just lit a cigarette when a voice behind her drawls, "Those things'll kill you."

And it's Tristan! Looking hot af in his leather jeans! Liz gasps that she thought Tristan hated her, but he says, "I love you." He just thought Liz had more living to do and didn't want to get in the way. "Oh baby," says Liz. "You are to die for." Such a corny line, but look at him. He kind of is.

Aw, they both are.

Billie Dean Howard Learns A Tough Lesson About Trying To Call Out Ghosts

God, this is so long and you know how much I care about the Lowes (zero), so I'm going to get through this as fast as possible. Apparently after Billie Dean Howard did that favour for Iris trying to contact Tristan, she keeps coming back and doing live specials at the Cortez every year on October 30, trying to contact John Lowe, the Ten Commandments Killer, so far without success. Well, what do you know? It's...

Iris doesn't love the element that Billie's specials have attracted -- horny weirdos hoping to get plowed by ghosts: "It's bad for our brand." Ramona points out that they could just shut down the hotel since Will doesn't need the money anymore (good job, Liz).

Oh good, Lowe's back. And he's sick of Billie's shit too. He tells Iris to call her and to get there in a hurry. And because Billie's a fame whore, I guess, she does; Lowe makes himself visible to her and we hear his stupid story. He doesn't look like he's aged because...well, it's only been seven years; Billie doesn't look like she's aged either. But also, Lowe is dead. The cops were closing in on him while he was still supposed to be supplying Alex and Holden with blood.

And even though Lowe had pledged that he was only going to kill people who deserved it, I guess the cops couldn't appreciate his scruples. He and the rest of the family -- except Scarlett, who also got shipped off to the Thatcher School with Lachlan -- moved back into the Cortez, and when he went out hunting one night across the street, the cops swarmed him and shot the hell out of him. He got very close to crawling his way to the Cortez sidewalk, but no dice. Hey, Billie wonders, what's the significance of October 30? Why is it the only night she can feel him? WELL, if she'll just ditch her camera crew, he'll show her.

The Devil's Night Dinner Party was not my favourite the first time? And it's still not. The killers all make a big deal out of introducing themselves, too, like, is anyone starting to watch this season NOW? Long story short: the killers cuff Billie to a chair and threaten her with death if she doesn't stay away from the Cortez forever. Billie, unwisely, notes that the ghosts can't leave the hotel so if she doesn't stick to her word they can't do anything about it...

...but Queen Ramona can! Billie can tell she's not a ghost, and Ramona confirms that she's right: "I'm a creature who kills to live, and who drinks a body's worth of blood a day and doesn't think twice about who I'm sucking it from, so if you even let out a whisper of a word that sounds like 'Cortez,' I'll find you and drain every drop of life from your skinny ass."

My Interest In This Family Could Not Be Lower

After chasing off Billie, Lowe returns to his old suite, where Alex and Holden are spooning in bed like a couple of real creeps, particularly since at this point isn't Holden's mental age, like, seventeen? Whatever: Scarlett's still alive and aging like a normal human. This is the only night of the year the whole family can be together, which makes it pretty inconsiderate of Alex and Holden didn't have some coffee after dinner to stay up and say hi. Oh wait! I don't care! GOODBYE FOREVER LOWE FAMILY PLEASE DON'T TRY TO INTRUDE ON ANY OTHER SEASONS TIA

Thank god, when the suite's alarm clock goes off at 2:25, we are awakened from our nightmare of being forced to care about the Lowe family and, instead, join the Countess at the bar, which is full of stylish young people.

The Countess sees a guy who's like a busted version of her Type (sorry, guy: you're not on the same level as Cheyenne Jackson or Matt Bomer and I think you know you aren't) and glides up to the bar stool beside his, asking, "What brings you to the Cortez?" Boringly, he tells her he heard about the hotel maybe being haunted, and tomorrow's Hallowe'en, so he thought he'd check it out; he's meeting friends. "No, you're not," the Countess purrs. "I'm not?" he flirts.

We don't get to see his reaction, which might be a good thing since it could have been something like this.

We really should have ended on Liz, and since Ryan Murphy didn't, I will.

SEE YOU FOR SEASON 6 AT THE SPOOKY DAIRY FARM OR INSURANCE OFFICE OR NAIL SALON!