2x10 All Alone

[7.5/10] I don’t know what to do with this finale. It’s frustrating if only in the sense that it seems more interested in setting up potential storylines for next season than wrapping up storylines here. Obviously, in contrast to season 1, Amy Sherman-Palladino knows that she has some runway with the series since it’s become a critical darling, but it’s a little frustrating watching what seems like it ought to be a period, or at least a semicolon at the end of season 2 instead feels like an ellipses.

Nowhere is that clearer than in the last scene of the episode which, to be honest, left a sour taste in my mouth over the whole thing. I don’t know why this is a recurring trope with Sherman-Palladino, but it’s frustrating to see a major character be in a strong, fulfilling relationship, one on the cusp of engagement no less, only to watch her blow it up by sleeping with her crappy ex.

I’ve said my piece on Joel’s superfluousness as a perspective character on the show, but he does nothing to endear himself to the audience here. He has reason to be upset when he learns that Ethan met “mommy’s new friend,” but then he’s a total asshole about it even after Midge’s very reasonable explanation. I know that he’s still holding out hope for a reconciliation, has made some real changes, and earnestly wants to be forgiven, but you know, he cheated on his wife, left her, and blew up his life. That’s not a simple thing to come back from, and his sense of entitlement about this whole situation is starting to be really grating.

(Though apparently he might use his dad’s money to become a club owner, which I guess is a way to keep him involved in the show other than as a romantic pairing. But again, why?)

Oh, and as weird Sherman-Palladino things go, the flashback to Joel’s proposal to Midge is really weird and fantastical, in a way that frankly made me wonder if it was a dream sequence. I didn’t care for it, as it feels too unreal and exaggerated, even for the heightened tone of the show. I’d compare it to Rory’s closing escapades with Logan and his crew in “A Year in the Life” in terms of crossing that line between exaggeration and implausibility.

Which brings us to Midge and her story here. There’s things I like about her path here a lot. There’s great comedy and joy to the mishegoss around Benjamin asking for Abe’s blessing to propose to her. I’ll admit, it seems pretty fast to me, but you know, maybe the 1950s timeline is just different than the 2020 timeline. That’s OK. Abe seeking a reading list, caring about how long he takes to go to the bathroom, etc. etc. etc. is a hoot, and you can see how over the moon Midge herself is about it.

It’s fun watching her and her mom joust over the decorum for a second wedding. It’s amusing seeing Rose go back to the psychic who legitimately seems to predict that Midge’s future involves the stand-up stage rather than an altar, despite Rose hearing the reassurance she wants to hear. That route doesn’t seem promising when Midge gets yanked from the same sexist club she visited earlier in the season, for having the temerity to talk about pregnancy despite male comics being able to talk about “dick fungus.” It’s another sign of the double standards Midge faces and it makes her ready to give up.

But then a bomb gets dropped in her life -- Shy Baldwin wants to take her on tour for six months, the big break she’s been waiting for, and she instantly says yes. It’s a tirumpahnt moment for her, the thing that she’s been working toward, her talent recoginzied by someone with the power to elevate her.

But a bomb gets dropped in Susie’s life too. Sophie Lennon demands an appearance at her home and asks Susie to be her manager. She’s tired of being “Sophie from Queens” and wants someone who will fight for her like Susie fought for Midge. It’s an interesting setup, one that humanizes Sophie a bit with her tale of wanting to do serious drama and assuming that stardom would give her the leeway to do it, and which also gives Susie some conflicting loyalty and a big break of her own that (theoretically at least) exists independently of Midge.

Last but not least, Abe gets a bomb dropped in his life as well. Bell Labs essentially fires him over Midge’s comments at the D.C. show, and for sharing info about his work in the first place, deeming them both a security risk. He’s ready to leave Columbia until Rose reminds him that giving up tenure means giving up their life and apartment. And yet, he wants to live a life with purpose again. He meets up with an old lawyer friend and after his speech to the Bell Labs big wigs, seems poised to become an agitator again like he was in his youth.

My issue with all of these things is that they’re uncertain, hastily drawn jumping off points, all more or less introduced for the first time in the previous episode. I liked the previous episode! But this is a lot happening really fast, and it makes these events play out of some combination of rushed, contrived, and convenient.

Also, I really don’t understand why Midge’s instant acceptance of the Shy Baldwin gig means she can’t marry Benjamin. Maybe there’s nuances to the situation in the 1950s that I don’t understand as someone from decades later. But he’s always been supportive of her stand-up. It seems like something she could at least broach with him before deciding it wouldn’t work.

But maybe the realization is that she just instantly accepted without thinking of Benjamin, which menas she doesn’t love him enough to marry him? It’s bizarre, because they seem so good together, and so much on the same page. It doesn’t seem crazy that in the rush of hearing an offer to get a big break, you would say yes before fully thinking through all of the consequences. But those consequences don’t seem insurmountable. I at least need to see more fall out in season 3 to justify it.

She commiserates over everything with Lenny Bruce, and as always, the two of them are adorable together. I don’t need or want anything romantic with them (especially since he’s a real person and not just a character), but I like them as comedian best friends. Lenny’s tale of woe over going broke fighting these obscenity lawsuits, and Midge’s tale of standing by for Ethan’s playdate as an illustration of her willingness to do the same for Lenny on Steve Allen is really endearing.

I’ll confess to not fully getting Lenny’s act that we basically get to see all of, but it stirs something in Midge, with her realizing that she’s choosing this life, choosing success in the comedy world over family life, which goes back to the eccentric painter episode. I again don’t love that dichotomy, and I like even less that her response to this sense of feeling destined to be alone is to go back to Joel, even if only for one night, to be with someone who loves her.

It feels like such a step back for her. I don’t want to impose a “What the audience wants vs. what it needs” thing here, but I don’t know who was asking for this, and it doesn’t feel like an organic response to these events either. Again, there’s some presentism to this response, but her belief that she can’t go on tour and be married to Benjamin, that she can’t both have a comedy career and a romantic life, seems ill-founded.

That leaves an episode with tons of cool moments and potential runways closing things off on a really sour note. It’s something Amy Sherman-Palladino fans have seen before, but it’s no better this time around, and disappointing to see such a great season of television end in this fashion.

Season 2 of Mrs. Maisel has been a treat, with some standout episodes, great challenges and motifs and triumphs for Midge and company, in addition to tons of laughs. But by putting together an episode that sets out to blow things up in the hopes of pointing to a direction for season 3, it does a disservice to the season we just watched.

I'm sort of obsessed with the idea of glass cannons in video games. For those of you who don't know, that's when you absolutely max out your ability to deal damage completely at the expense of being able to take any. So when I play Dark Souls, I'm the dope who goes into a fight with some overpowered weapon with a maxed out strength stat but no armor. The high risk/high reward of the fights is so absolutely satisfying when you pull it off because your victory pretty much has to be flawless. But the path to get to that success comes with the other edge of that sword. One singular mistake comes at the cost of immediate failure.

Right now in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, everyone seems a bit like a glass cannon. Midge is extraordinarily able to dish out a shocking amount of damage without really knowing it--her obstacle with Sophie Lennon is one of her own making. She single-handedly ended her father's dream job with a joke at a club she barely remembers. And just when she was about to have a new sense of happiness, she decides to choose herself again. But she does it in a way that again prioritizes her ability to dish out that damage. Benjamin doesn't seem like the guy that would mind waiting six months while Midge is on tour to get married--he's been supportive of her career until now and it doesn't seem like he would want her to give that up, not when it's at the expense of such a big break for her. And yet, Midge's decision to leave comes with the one-two punch of also choosing Joel again.

But it's not just Midge either. Joel has honed his business acumen to make his father's factory profitable. Then he's fired. He seems primed to buy a nightclub and this can either go one of two ways: he could use it to help Midge or he could use it to blacklist her when they potentially don't get back together. Abe attained the peak of his career but started blowing it up (with help from Midge), but his season-long temper tantrum at his children had the back-handed effect of ruining his relationship with his professor job as well. Susie has been covertly building up Midge's obstacles even though it hurts her own success too. And Rose? She's the very definition of a glass cannon. The words she spits to her family and those around her are so painful, but will lock herself in her room when that knife is turned back onto her.

So why does this show feel so warm? And why do these characters feel so likeable? I think it's because they keep building themselves up again. And because every time they get shattered, they find a way to keep on going. They even stick together. Midge's parents, even though they clearly still have issues supporting her career, find reason to sit down and have meals together. One could call it repression or toxicity, but it also could be that they love each other more than they disapprove. Even Joel, perpetually twisting the knife in their separation (while also getting hurt as well), drops everything to immediately come to Midge's aid when she needs it. That sort of wholesome escapism with a tinge of toxicity is such a nice touch.

Good episode. Great season.