What a finale. Watching everyone come together and use what they have learned and prove to themselves and each other how capable they are felt so good, while on the flip side of that we see devastation in Carmy. The restaurant recovers and runs smoothly without him as he sits alone, cold, and while falling victim to his insecure self-worth and ultimately inadvertently ruining one of the best things to ever happen to him in Claire. I knew the fridge issue would come into play in the finale, but didn’t expect it to happen like this. The rich complexity is that Carmy isn’t necessarily wrong. His focus given to Claire took him away from the restaurant, but Claire is also so incredibly good for him otherwise. She made him a better person, but in some regards also a worse leader during a critical time in his professional life. I hope that he can eventually find the right balance, repair things with Ritchie, and find happiness in his personal and professional lives. I think he needs to learn to relinquish some of the control he holds over the restaurant and lean on others around him who have proven themselves capable. His presence in their lives and pushing/challenging them has helped all those around him grow, and he just needs to give himself credit for that while also not putting so much pressure on himself. He’s shaping up to be a fantastic character and I can’t wait for more. Season 3 better be announced soon.
[9.8/10] Susie nails it. When Midge tells her she’s considering doing something reckless with the four minutes remaining on The Gordon Ford show, Susie tells her number one client to go for it. She tells her that she got into this thing by taking a stage nobody invited her to and saying things she wasn’t allowed to say. Why should today be different? Why shouldn’t the same boldness and hilarious honesty carry the day now?
And oh my lord does it.
“Four Minutes” is, like so many series finale, full of call backs and bookends. In the finale of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’s first season, Midge and Joel are on the verge of getting back together. What stops the reunion is Joel hearing an underground “party record” of Midge’s confessional rant from the night he left her. He couldn't stand her spreading their private lives to strangers, and perhaps more damningly, he couldn't stand her being better at comedy than him.
Now, when he hears that Midge is going to be on The Gordon Ford Show, he is overjoyed for her, not jealous. And more to the point, without being asked, he tells her to talk about anything, about him, about the kids, about any part of the life he helped fracture, if only so that his sins can be further made fodder for something good and worthwhile. I’ve ragged on Joel a lot, but there may be no bigger sign of his growth and maturity than that.
Some echoes are not so happy. In the first episode, Midge hears Lenny’s rant about the meat grinder of stand-up and asks him in response if he loves it nonetheless. He gives her a shrug of resignation, a wry sort of acceptance that love it or hate it, this is the path he’s on. Here, Susie gives Lenny a plea when his life is disintegrating. She gives him an offer for help he sorely needs. Folks aware of the real life story know that Lenny is not far away from his untimely end. But when asked one final time, not in so many words, if he’ll accept the assistance it would take to pull out of this tailspin, all he offers is the same resigned shrug. It’s an underplayed but brutal affirmation that he’s as stuck on that path now as he was then.
Some lead to moments of honesty and vulnerability. The desperate phone call that pulled Midge away from work was having to bail Susie out of jail. It’s a meaningful reversal of the series’ beginning where it was Susie who got Midge out of the slammer. What led Susie there is continued raw feelings over Hedy, and having to dredge up that painful part of her life in order to get Midge the ticket to being in front of the camera she needs.
In the wake of that concession, which Midge now understands the gravity of, Susie (and Alex Borstein) gives arguably her best monologue in the entire series (give or take her eulogy for Nicky). When she talks about her relationship with Hedy, the plans they made that she let herself believe in, the love that they shared in a time and a place it wasn’t accepted or embraced, the heartbreak of seeing the woman she cared for pulled away from her, it is the most raw we’ve ever seen her. Her heartfelt confessional to her closest friend not only gives Borstein a time to shine as an actor, not only helps Midge understand what her manager did for her, but underscores the extra pain folks like Susie had to endure at a time where there were even more hurdles to finding love and acceptance that folks struggle with under the best of circumstances.
But the sacrifice is worth it because it works. Midge gets an invitation to appear on The Gordon Ford Show. The invitation is a bitter one. Gordon Ford resents Midge and Susie going around him to make this happen. But by god, it’s happening. And it leads to all sorts of great comedy and better grace notes for the cast of characters who made Mrs. Maisel feel so lively and hilarious for five seasons.
Dinah pulls off one last miracle, getting Midge the dress of her dreams for free for a mere mention of Bergdorf’s. (A far cry from when Midge had to struggle with a domineering boss to keep her job at a competing department store.) Zelda calls Rose to let her know about the show in secret, so as not to let Yanucz know she’s entangled with the Weissmans again. Archie and Imogene make it to the big show and take credit for dumping on ol’ Penny Pan from a cocktail party. Mrs. Moskowitz cuts through the elder Maisels’ monkeyshines and gets to the bottom of their grand plans.
Those grand plans are to, well, retire and spend the rest of their lives together. The epiphany arrives in an appropriately silly way, with a couple of choice falls in the shower and a sopping fur coat leading to some honest conversation. But in a season that started with the prospect of their divorce, there’s something adorable and endearing about Moishe retiring and giving up his business, the thing that represents the outward success he so cherishes, to revel in the inward success of a marriage to the woman he loves.
For a finale that is, quite understandably, full of sap, “Four Minutes” doesn’t skimp on the comedy. Susie and Dinah debating how to get a bucket across two buildings using a trained squirrel is a big laugh. Midge ranting to her fellow writers about deserving a few hours off without an array of pestering phone calls, only to find out it wasn’t them, is a very funny moment. And Abe and Rose frantically trying to explain to a series of unsympathetic cabbies during a shift change (relatable!) that through money, math tutoring, wedding rings, or magic whistles, they need to get to Rockefeller Center, is another one of the show’s great comic set pieces, with expert cinematography to match.
And yet, theirs might be the most touching moments in the finale. Rose’s schism from her husband and daughter in the first season stemmed from the sense that they were lying to her, that they were keeping the important things from her, that she wasn’t taken seriously. So when she has to find out Midge’s big news second-hand, Rose declares she’s not going thanks to this affront. It is merely the latest insult, the latest case of her being kept out of the loop by her “pathological liar” of a child.
Except, hilariously, Midge has enlisted everyone she knows, from Joel, to Shirley, to Zelda, to her fellow writers, to try to get the news to Rose. Wouldn’t you know it? Mrs. Weissman inadvertently left the darn phone off the hook. Nonetheless, she is touched that Midge went to such lengths to reach her, and it shows her how much her daughter does value and care about her.
Abe’s moment is much simpler. Midge tells him the news, and he’s confused about Midge’s references and colloquialisms and other things he just doesn’t understand. But what he does understand is that this is an achievement. He stops his all-important goings-on to tell her so and, even when the appearance isn’t going as planned, tells her how incredible what she’s accomplished is. It is a heartwarming follow-up to his hollowing epiphany of what he’d done wrong from the prior episode. And it is a tacit acknowledgment that, even if his daughter’s life doesn’t fit what he’d wanted or expected from her, it is no less extraordinary for it.
His pride carries extra resonance because Midge’s vaunted appearance isn’t going well. Gordon’s begrudging admittance of her to a spot on the show is not to perform her act; it’s to be interviewed as a writer. She is a “human interest” story. He will technically fulfill his wife’s request to have her on. But he also demeans her in the process, treating her like a sideshow and a curiosity rather than a comic.
She’s permitted to perform. She isn’t permitted to sit on the couch where the “real” guests go. He all but denies Midge her name, introducing only as “a Gordon Ford show writer”, and “our resident lady writer” before briefly providing only her first name, in contrast to the male writers who get their surnames as part of their introductions. And when she has the temerity to be funny during this neutered little segment? He throws to commercial because he can't stand her and Susie getting one over on him.
It is a brilliant exercise in frustration. Midge’s last stretch to glory in this finale is not a primrose path of triumph. It is another instance in which she must scratch and claw to get what she ought to have earned through talent and hard work alone. It is another example of her being punished for not doing things “the right way”, when that way contains every roadblock for people like her. It is one more time when succeeding at this means being bold and daring and a little dangerous, taking what you deserve because otherwise no one will give it to you.
That is the biggest bookend and parallel between The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’s final bow and its opening salvo. Susie calls out that same fire that led Midge to the Gaslight to vent her frustrations on stage in the first place. Once again, Midge goes where she supposedly doesn’t belong, speaks when it’s not her turn to speak, because whether it’s liquid courage or simply the courage of her convictions, by god, she’s meant for this.
In one of those impossible, brilliant, writerly monologues, she tells it all again. She talks about being Jewish. She talks about being the child of two demanding parents. She talks about being left by her husband. She talks about being a mother. She talks about wanting fame and recognition for what she does. She talks about the challenges she’s faced as a woman, a comic, and someone who’s tried from day one to reconcile her life on stage with her life off of it.
At base, she talks about her life. With tremendous choices in lighting and direction, the show sells the enormity of this moment, the way this is the tipping point of her climb to fortune and fame, but also an intimate confessional, the truth behind her art that makes the comedy funnier and the confessions more piercing.
As I wrote in the series’ beginning, Seinfeld was not meant to be “a show about nothing.” It was intended to be a show about how comedians found material for their act. And in the same way, this moment in Mrs. Maisel is about the same thing. The performance that puts her on the map is not a riff on random nonsense or “put that on your plate”-style phoniness. It is about how, from her initial wedding toast, Midge has used her life as fodder to stand-up in front of the crowd and connect with her audience.
In a way, Midge’s whole life has led to this moment. She uses the events of the series, her challenges from being single again, the unique struggles of being a comedienne, her relationship with her kids and her relationship with her parents and her relationship with the ex-husband whose selfish deeds started this whole wild journey, to make up the set that becomes her crowning achievement. The trials and travails of the last three years and five seasons amounted to this: a set that kills, a truth that resonates, and a person less revealed than transformed, who’s come out of her original betrayal stronger and willing to seize what’s waiting on the other side of that window.
It’s beautiful and stirring and a magnificent capstone to all Midge was achieved. If there’s an element of wish fulfillment to it all, it’s that she’s so hilarious that even grumpy Gordon can't help but break down and admit he should have had her up there a long time ago. He does fire her, so she doesn’t get off scot-free. But in a parallel to Joan Rivers’ big break with Johnny Carson, she’s invited to the couch, a recognition of her talent and the fact that, whether he wanted her there or not, she was going to be a big star. It’s enough for Gordon to give her the benediction of announcing her name, a title drop for the series that could hardly come in a more satisfying way.
But other people knew before Gordon did. One of them was Lenny Bruce. Whether or not he’s there for her great success, he saw the star that she would become. It is downright lovely that the thought we leave Lenny with is not his sad passing, but rather the image of someone who had utter faith and confidence in Midge, with a fortune cookie fortune, spun into honest flattery, that gives her a boost via their sweet inside joke when she needs it most.
But the first person who knew was Susie. Season 5 teased discord between manager and client throughout. Our flash forwards suggested enmity between them that couldn't be resolved. And for all the talk of fame here as the ultimate goal, our semi-shocking glimpse of Midge in 2005 suggests a lonely life. Her parents have presumably passed on. Her kids clearly have mixed feelings with her. Joel is but a loving picture on a desk. All that's left, seemingly, is for Midge to wander through an opulent but empty living space, albeit one in a familiar part of town, that suggests she may be as isolated and aloof as Sophie Lennon became amid her success.
Except she isn’t. She retreats to her room, connects with a blissfully retired, tropically-residing Susie, and the two uproariously funny old vets crack each other up over Jeopardy and reincarnation across a continent. In the end, when the work together has ended, what’s left is their true friendship. And more importantly, Midge has what she was looking for the last time Susie was in a beachside locale -- someone who makes her laugh.
When Midge lost one partnership with Joel, she accidentally discovered another with Susie. And while the former fueled her, and eventually worked its way to being a worthy part of her life, it’s the latter that drove her, comforted, and sustained her.
What a lovely note to go out on for this series, which nailed the landing in a way few television shows do. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’s final set is a glorious one, which pays due tribute to these rich characters, this colorful little ecosystem, and the journey that led them here. A small-time bar boss comes to manage the stars, a jilted housewife comes to be the groundbreaking entertainer she was always meant to become, and two people uncover a friendship that nourishes them even when the work fades away. To Amy Sherman-Palladino, to the talented creative team that brought this series to life over the past six years, to Midge and Susie -- thank you and goodnight.
I could repeat my comments from last episode, but I won't do this. In a nutshell: it looks awesome, but the story and most characters are mediocre. I still enjoy it but it's certainly not great.
Let me talk about something else instead. Tolkien's work and Jackson's adaptation have always received their fair share of criticism regarding ethnic and racial stereotypes. One example is the problematic Wagner-ish portray of dwarfs. I won't go into this. Enough was said about this. In this show, they added Hobbit "ancestors". Hobbits were never funny and a a big fat Irish stereotype. Now they added this element of "migration". How could you not think that they are inspired by Irish Travellers? The Harfoots have other traits allegedly ascribed to their culture: they too love music, gather around campfires, organize themselves in families and live at the edge of society in relative poverty. It's like costume artists were fans of The Kelly Family. I'm not even saying that only negative stereotypes are reverberated: the Harfoots are too likable to immediately incite prejudice and discrimination against Travellers. But I wonder why they always do that in this franchise? Why do they often use a discriminated ethnic or racial group as a template and why do they choose to portray them in a very stereotypical way? They could have designed this people very differently very easily. Who's next? Gypsies? Pygmy peoples? Sámi? Eurasian nomads aka "horse people"? It doesn't really bother me though. (I'm not a snowflake and I realize that fiction is different from reality). This was mostly an academic remark. But I think, it was worth to be mentioned. Instead, very interestingly though, the show is (totally unfairly) criticized by some for including (as in: inclusion) black actors. Really? It makes you think whether "our" value system is well calibrated.
PS: I knew it. Yolandi Visser is one of these weird, otherworldly, pale elves. These guys are elves, right?
Another dense episode. This episode is divided into 4 storylines. The primary tracks Margo and her unrequited love with Russian counterpart Sergei. Their chemistry has always fascinated me. Two loners who share the same dreams, but separated by geopolitical conflicts. Her story here reminded me of Sofia Coppola's seminal Lost in Translation, driven by wordless expressions. Their mild encounters gradually amp up the stake with each time jump until everything is revealed and there's no turning back but to go "all in."
The second storyline is Aleida, who is groomed to be Margo's replacement. Unlike Margo, she has a husband and kid, and her dad. But her life is at NASA, where she spends 18 hours, completely oblivious to problems at home. Margo is her paternal role model figure with whom she feels more intensely connected than anyone, just as Margo was once deeply connected to Wernher Von Braun. In the later 2 year time jump, we see that she has risen to Margo's former role. But her personal cost is not yet revealed. She has undoubtably gone "all in" on NASA.
The third storyline tracks Danny, who has lived under the shadows of his heroic astronaut parents, Gordo and Tracy. Largely neglected by his busy and distracted parents, he longed for their approvals, always closely following their footsteps. His paternal relationship and approval came from Karen, with whom he eventually develops Oedipus complex. Her eventual rejection causes him to turn to alcohol and womanizing, mirroring his dad's. By the end of this episode, he goes "all in."
The last storyline follows Ed. He is the true American hero archetype, with a string of one impressive achievement after another. But his extraordinary highs in space are always followed by the emptiness of his personal life on earth. On this episode, he is again driven by the ambition to be the first, as he believes the feat would solve all of his (and Danny's) problems. It would certainly distract his personal demons for the time being. So he also goes "all in" sitting on his Star Trek-like captain's chair as he smirks "here we go, kid" to his co-pilot Danny.
The mission to Mars is on and there's no turning back.
Honestly, this was one of the best series finales I’ve seen in awhile. It was really cool to see Issa find happiness and security. That end scene where her inner voice wasn’t talking shit in the mirror back at her, that was a really nice touch. Thought for sure she’d pop up with something snarky and funny to say, but instead it was just a mirror doing mirror things and reflecting. Which after the entire series of rapping and joking and shit talking back at herself, was a really touching end to the whole thing. Also when Molly’s mom passed away, I cried. The news of my fathers passing was just as abrupt and delivered over the phone in such an unbelievable fashion, so it was ultra relatable. Speaking of Molly, seeing her finally settle down and marry with someone that loves her for her was also really moving. She was doubting herself the whole series, people were doubting her, and it was always sad to see how most of her relationships crumbled because of all the insecurities. Not to mention her man is as easy on the eyes as she is lol.
Seeing the way Issa and Molly evolved over the series was also quite relatable. I’ve had my ups and downs with best friends over the years, where they finally find a place to stabilize after years. It was cool to see a best friendship portrayed so naturally and convincingly. But most of all, was really happy to see the two of them find that stability and let go of their egos and be there for each other in all the stages of their lives that were revealed to us, the audience.
Anyway, I’m sad this series has come to an end, it was a great insight into the lives of these characters and seeing them grow, ima miss em.
"I'm going to make him watch all the Star Trek, all three series." - Danielle Poole, 2003~4
If you count The Animated Series, that means this timeline did not get Deep Space Nine or Voyager (or Enterprise). I can imagine this has something to do with the falling out Ronald D. Moore had with Star Trek's Executive Producer at the time Rick Berman, who gave him hell on DS9 and led him to leave Voyager very early on. I wonder how many TNG movies there are in this timeline. This episode is set about around when the last TNG movie, Nemesis, was released in our timeline.
Edit: Someone else pointed out that FAM's timeline might have gotten Star Trek Phase II. Which would mean no Next Generation either. And because The Motion Picture was created from the ashes of the cancellation of Phase II, probably no Star Trek films at all! Imagine a few years of 60s Trek, a couple years of 60s cartoon Trek, then maybe a few more years of 70s Trek, all influenced by a young Roddenberry. And then the franchise peters out and gets shelved alongside shows like Battlestar Galactica and Space 1999 because people are much more interested in actual space travel than imagined space travel.
This episode was an improvement on the all others in the show, it seems there was less nonsense than in the earlier parts, and some vistas were really visually stunning, I love the forges of Eregion, they are definitely beautiful to look at. There is nothing at all about dwarves, which is a bit of a pity since the making of the dwarven rings could have been shown as well, but the focus is on the Elven smiths of Eregion and the forging of the Elven rings. Soon after being healed, Halbrand starts taking shop with Celebrimbor and giving him advice about forging the one piece of mithril the Elves have, soon they start to work together but Galadriel gets suspicious of him and gets intel on the kings of the Southlands. When she confronts him about his identity, Galadriel gets a strange mind trip in which Halbrand reveals himself to be Sauron and even offers Galadriel to be his queen and rule Middle-Earth alongside with him (using the words Galadriel says in FotR when tempted by the ring). She rejects him and goes to warn the smiths. By this time, Sauron is already gone on his way to Mordor. It is Galadriel's idea to make three rings to help Elves stay the decay, which are created out of Galadriel's dagger and Elrond's mithril piece. The forging scenes are visually impressive and a total eye-candy, though perhaps they don't have much in common with the real smithying business. Galadriel was much less irritating now, though it was silly of her to risk a direct confrontation with Sauron, it could have ended much worse for her than it actually happened. I guess Sauron must have had some soft spot for her as he didn't hurt her in any way even though she discovered his identity.
The sauronists find the Stranger and first they hail him as Sauron but when he does not live up to their expectations, they decide to bind him. This is when the hobbits find him and want to rescue him, and it is Nori who finally talks him into standing the side of the Good, as a result he banishes the sauronists to the darkness (they look a bit like the Nazgul then but there had been no Nazgul back then) and is revealed as one of the Istari. Finally, Nori's family encourages her to go on an adventure with the Stranger, and there are long goodbyes with her family and her bestie Poppy, which could have been shorter, the showrunners apparently wanted to mirror the long ending of RotK, but it didn't work this time. As they set off, the Stranger uses Gandalf's words about always following your nose, known from the scene in FotR in the Mines of Moria, suggesting he might be Gandalf.
Minor Numenorean things:
- Pharason orders the painting of the dying king to be done, and Elendil's daughter is the one to hear his last words, in which he mistakes her for Miriel and warns her of the fall of Numenor, if they would not return to the ways of the Faithful;
