4x01 Rumble on the Wonder Wheel

[8.1/10] There was a Dave Chapelle quote floating around a few years ago. He said, “Sometimes the funniest thing to say is mean.” I mistook his meaning. I assumed it was an admission that it’s easy to be snide, it’s easy to use humor to hurt people, but that the mark of a true comedian was to be more clever than that, to find ways to make people laugh while not resorting to the lowest common denominator.

I was wrong. What Dave meant was that it was his job to be funny, and it justified any hurt his words might cause. Take from that, and his other questionable statements in recent years, what you will. But I have a similar reaction to Midge here.

Midge wants revenge. She saw her new version of her old life ripped away once more, and yet again by a man. Well the best revenge is living well, and for Midge, living well means being herself on stage. So she makes a demand of her manager. She tells Susie that she only wants to speak her mind, to be her authentic self, with every set, no matter the circumstances. She wants to be unfiltered, unrestrained, unadulterated, without the sort of hackwork and “stay within the lines” dues-paying gags other comedians have to spit out, because that’s when she’s great. Let Midge be Midge.

On the one hand, you want to support her, because we love Midge! She is at her funniest when she’s riffing. She is great when she can work a room and play it at her own pace. She did have her life unfairly blown up, and she did come this close to regaining it came tumbling down once more. We’re righteously indignant on her behalf, and seeing her vent her anger on stage is cathartic for us and for her.

But Shy Baldwin is not Joel Maisel. Someone being upset that a supposed friend (inadvertently) came close to outing you in the 1960s is not the same as someone cheating on you with their secretary. And Midge’s myopic devotion to her art, without stopping to think about how her lack of filter on stage not only messed up her shot at the big time, but also hurt people -- people like Shy, yes, but also people like Susie who supported and depend on her -- gives me pause in the same way that Dave Chapelle’s maxim on meanness gives me pause.

Despite those qualms, Amy Sherman-Palladino still knows how to write and direct the hell out of an episode. The things you love about The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel -- the snappy comic dialogue, the amusing situations, the lavish journey through 1960s New York City -- are all still there in spades. No scene in “Rumble on the Wonder Wheel” is bad. Each of them has zip and pop. Each of them will make you laugh. Most of them will endear you to these characters and their plight, whether they’ve truly earned that or not.

Not for nothing, the direction in the premiere is superb. The simple stillness of the opening shot, of MIdge in near silhouette, put into relief by the light and laughter of an adoring audience, sets the stage, before a restless camera captures the energy of her unchained, confessional set. The lighting for the goon Mei’s parents send to beckon Joel makes him extra intimidating, as does the little tango he and Joel do on their way down to the basement. And the rush of colors, movement, and subtle choreography as the camera follows the Maisels and the Weissmans around Coney Island is masterful. There were occasionally some adventurous shots on Gilmore Girls, but Sherman-Palladino and her team have continued to outdo themselves in ways both flashy and subtle since then.

That’s the thing about “Rumble on the Wonder Wheel” -- the nuts and bolts of all the scenes we see here are great. We get to check in with everyone. Susie helps Midge through her breakdown with their usual outstanding back and forth. We see how Midge’s parents, former in-laws, and kids are getting on in Queens via a hilariously rescheduled birthday in Queens. We have an interlude with Susie and her sister, Tess, trying to regain the money she’s been “holding” for Midge despite Susie’s suddenly-dramatic gambling problem (versus Herc from The Wire, no less!). We even see Joel continue his crackerjack romance with Mei, despite parental objections to their connection and Joel’s business. Almost all of it works on a scene-to-scene basis.

(The one exception is the magical realism business with Susie, where Alfie the barside magician seems to literally transport her into a picture from a calendar. Maybe the show’s going somewhere with this, but it was a strange interlude.)

Susie coaching Midge through an underwear-sporting, taxi-smashing freakout while also claiming part of the bar to sleep in lest she have nightmares is a hoot. Abe’s contretemps while the rest of the grandparents conspire to spoil their grandson on his would-be birthday are a big laugh. Susie and Tess going from an uber-friendly insurance office front to wandering down a scary cinder block hallway to be interrogated is odd but entertaining. The combative but endearing flirtations between Mei and Joel continue to help redeem a character who’s otherwise the show’s albatross with the sheer charm and cleverness of the back-and-forth. Hell, we even get a hilarious stand-off between Susie and the inimitable Mrs. Moskowitz!

But I have a few qualms about where each of these stories is going on a big picture level. The game of telephone as to who gave whom money among Moishe/Midge/Susie/Joel and others starts to get convoluted. Where the theater-criticism and match-making jobs are headed for Abe and Rose while they live with Joel’s parents remains a little opaque. The insurance fraud routine with Susie and Tess feels a little out there and sitcommy even for the heightened reality of this show. And Joel’s business being so successful that it angers his landlords who don’t want the extra attention is a...unique conflict. I’ll give it that. I don’t mind any of the moments we share with these characters, but I worry about what direction Sherman-Palladino are going to take them over the course of the season as a whole.

Then comes the piece de resistance of the episode. Smashing the whole Maisel/Weissman clan in a ping-ponging, comical series of confessions and recriminations across a ferris wheel is uproarious. It’s the kind of perfectly-paced, impeccably edited, intricately written, personal yet funny scene that Sherman-Palladino can pull off like no other. It’s worth the price of admission on its own (even if you’re overcharged by a dollar). The rapid-fire exchange of secrets that range from why Midge was fired from the tour to who borrowed money from whom to Abe having to be sold by a matchmaker is a hoot. This cocktail of the vulnerable and the absurd and the well-observed of the interrelations of this loony family is both relatable in a strange, outsized sort of way, while also clever and amusing in a way few messy family confessions are. Whatever you want to think of the long-term storytelling, the craft here is still extraordinary, and by god, it’s still funny.

But funny isn’t always a justification. Okay, it might be for a television show. Taking your characters and overarching storylines in questionable directions can be balanced out by the fact that the viewer just enjoys spending time with witty characters in an entertaining world full of quality moments and good laughs. (See also: GIlmore Girls) Nevertheless, I don’t know if it is for a character. I don’t know that Midge has learned anything from her experience at the end of season 3, beyond a desire to double down on the thing that both makes her great and occasionally gets her, and people she cares about, into trouble. I don’t know how to feel about that tack, even as I continue to enjoy the show in its season premiere.

And yet, I was miffed at the end of season 2 with how Midge dropped Benjamin without the show ever really addressing how crappy that was, or how it didn’t really make sense with what we’d seen of their relationship thus far, or how it felt like there needed to be more fallout from it than we saw. Then, unexpectedly, Benjamin showed up and at least addressed all of those things to a chastened Midge, in a way I didn’t see coming.

I can’t sit here and promise another shoe’s going to drop. Sherman-Palladino can become enamored with her protagonists and give them a little too much wish fulfillment. There’s the distinct possibility that the universe will ultimately reward Midge for her uncompromising, sometimes myopic determination here. But maybe, just maybe, she’ll start to see the nuance of what led her to this point, and the impact it has on people beyond a two-foot radius. Either way, I expect it’ll be funny.