This show is inhabited by broken people. It's depressing and sad, yet the final scene was so sweet.
Please don't make a third season. That was the perfect ending.
[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.
Janet's fight scene was straight up a peak television moment, i don't take any different opinions as valid.
Well that took a fucking turn, didn't it?
Je-sus.
This show manages to f*** with my thoughts. Joe is truly messed up and somehow when he and Candace are talking, I catch myself rooting for him!?
Hi, I was hoping to make it home for dinner, but things are very topsy-turvy at the office.
Oh jeez, the series was great but they really should have toned it down a bit with the cringy fairytale ending.
By the end eeeverybody has to take their turn and declare their unconditional adoration for the Mary-Sue of the series:
- Townes (despite years of no contact and overall lack of relevancy at this point in the story?)
- the grizzled russian chess veteran (despite playing her only once?)
- Billy (despite him rightfully telling her to fuck off previously)
- Beltik (despite her previously refusing his help and him being some random Kentucky store manager and a washed up ex-regional champion way over his head at this point)
- the twins, for some reason - what are they even doing in Billy's basement offering advice in a game way above their level? (do they even know any of the other people in that room? Who invited them? Why does the US chess champion have to rely on phoned in advice from some random friends while playing for the world title in the first place?)
- Borgov (who is inexplicably happy for her despite the fact that his loss is a huge upset not just for him, but the entire cold-war era soviet bloc)
- throw in some random old men on the street in Moscow beacuse why not
By the end I was surprised her adoptive father didn't chip in and call her in Russia to admit teary eyed that he was wrong and Beth is "the greatest person that ever lived" or something.
I really wanted to enjoy this season way more than I did, but it was too nonsensical for its own good.
"What the fuck is going on right now?"
"I don't know but it's weird and fascinating and I'm super into it."
The scene explaining the meaning of "Jeremy Bearimy" deserves 10++++ tho.
Honestly, I was scared the whole act she'd slip up out of nerves and reveal to all of Harlem about Shy being gay. But she didn't. She did amazing. And then, insecure, paranoid Shy kicks her out of the tour after all the times she was there for him when he needed it? What an ungrateful child. He was not a very good singer, anyways.
[8.0/10] This is a season finale without much finality. That’s not the worst thing in the world, but considering we went years between seasons before, the number of dangling threads here and sense of not settling down much of anything the show kicked up this season is a tad disappointing.
But what we do get is good! Midge’s set about women being in charge only nobody’s told them! And the ensuing chaos of the raid! And Abe’s obituary for Moishe! And Lenny reading Midge the riot act! It’s all excellent and in some cases, downright moving.
It’s that last bit though that’s my favorite. Candidly, I don’t like Lenny and Midge sleeping together. In my humble opinion, the show went about as far as it should have in blending real life and fiction with Midge and Lenny’s quasi-date in “It’s Comedy or Cabbage” from last season. Pushing it this far, especially after Lenny’s jerkery earlier, seems unnecessary.
But I like him being the one to talk some sense into Midge. Susie is just freaking done and, given how her phone is ringing off the hook, doesn’t seem to need Midge in order for Susie Myerson and Associates to do some serious business. She’s understandably pissed that Midge gave up the Tony Bennett gig in the name of only headlining, but just sucks it up until she says, not in so many words, that she’s tired of having to listen to Midge’s B.S. about this. And hey, good for her.
Lenny, on the other hand, comes from a place of experience. He’s the one Midge aspires to be like, to be able to speak her mind and still have an audience like he does. And he basically tells her that being controversial is a curse as much as it’s a blessing. He demands that she take him off a pedestal and recognize him for the fuck-up that he is (drug problem notwithstanding). Most of all, he insists that she see this as work, that she give up on the “my way or the highway” bullshit and play ball to get where she wants to be.
It’s the kind of speech you don’t hear very often on television. (The “just do the work” speech to Don in Mad Men comes to mind as the rare comparator.) It’s not inspiring exactly, but it’s motivating. It’s learning to compromise, to put in the work to get you where you need to go, and have the humility to recognize that your path to get there may involve a few less glamorous stops along the road. It comes from a place of love. Lenny sees that Midge is on the cusp of her big shot and doesn’t want her to miss it. And it’s exactly what she needs to hear.
The rest of this one is good too. I’m sorry to say that I recently had an experience of a loved one being in the hospital in dire condition, and “Carnegie Hall” manages to capture both the humor and heartbreak of it. Imogene patting everyone on the arm, Joel looking up medical textbooks, Mei posing as a hospital-provided mahjong player, Abe fearing his keys are a death rattle, it’s all funny in that dark but rib-tickling sort of way.
It comes with a heap of touching moments though. The one that catches you off guard is the conversation between Abe and Shirley. It’s funny too, with detours about services for burial plots and trips to Turkey based on Turkish plumbers. But the heartfelt conversation about “dying with all your teeth” and whether god is cruel for allowing people to know that they’re going to die is profound in a way you don’t necessarily expect from what is mostly a joke character. The coup de grace comes when Shirley reassures Abe, even as she’s hurting, that if Rose passes first, she’ll be there to help him. It’s just unbearably sweet.
The same goes for Abe’s spoken obituary about a thankfully living Moishe. Amy Sherman-Palladino doesn’t lay on the schmaltz. Abe discusses the origins of Moishe’s fabrics shop and mentions the thirteen Jews and even gets philosophical and academic in that trademark Abe Weissman way. And yet, he ends on a note of sincerity. As much as the elder Maisels are characters who exist mainly for humor and to be pests, their actions speak to their true, generous character. Abe’s right. The way they took Abe and Rose in without asking for anything in return, the way Moishe’s looked after Midge when it wasn’t his responsibility, is a mitzvah and the sign of a good man. The speech tugs at the heartstrings and Kevin Pollak does excellent work with Moishe’s plainly touched reaction.
The episode’s a good excuse for Sherman-Palladino to show off her skills as a director. The “Personality” sequence at the burlesque house has oodles of visual panache, and it’s matched with the mad dash to get everyone out the door once the raid starts. We get some good indications of struggle as Midge trudges through a freak snowstorm. And in the big scene with Lenny, she manages to make two people arguing on a big stage in an empty theater visually interesting with the way she blocks the performers and keeps the camera active with them.
That just leaves Midge’s set. As always in these confessional moments, Midge (and by extension, Sherman-Palladino) seize on both the truth and the humor. Her recognition of how women are expected to soldier on in these situations where men are societally permitted to be out of sorts is well-observed. Her note of how doctors are gods but nurses are, as Lenny will say, doing the work, and holding you as you cry, sets up a strong call and response and vindicates hard-working medical professionals. And she closes without a joke, just a wry but piercing observation of who might really be in charge and a wish that a kind man not leave this veil of tears just yet. It’s her best set of the season, and there have been some doozies.
Of course, there’s also the sweetness of Abe and Rose, with him being moved enough by Shirley’s comments to affirm her and her match-making, and give her the wherewithal (and kiss) to spur her to go to war with the Matchmaking Mafia. It’s a nice grace note for the couple.
There’s still a lot up in the air. Shirley still doesn’t know about Mei. Moishe accepts her and her pregnancy, but insists she convert. Midge’s career trajectory is still a big question mark. Susie’s rocket to the top and what the mob’s “taste” will look like lingers out there. How Rose’s war will turn out, what will become of Alfie and James and Dinah, and a million other questions still linger. This is more of a set of ellipses than a period, or even a semicolon.
But it’s good stuff -- touching, funny, and appropriately chastening of its title character at a time when she needs to hear it. I can’t ask for more than that.
I thought this was better than the last couple of episodes. Eve going fully feral for a second there with Dasha was maginifcent (Sandra Oh EGOT when), Villanelle got a couple chuckles out of me in that first scene ("thank you for the inappropriate touching"), and Konstantin and Dasha ending up in the same hospital might lead to some really funny interactions. Can't believe the season is ending next week, is it just me or does it feel like not much has happened? Nothing, even Niko getting stabbed or Kenny dying or Villanelle murdering her family felt all that impactful.
Midge on the Gordon show felt like watching your own kid living their dreams out and at that moment it was just so beautiful. I'll miss this show to no end especially Midge, Lenny, Susie and at times Abe. I never cared for wanting to watch in person stand up but now I look forward to seeing someone as funny as our Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.
Joe can eavesdrop on a conversation in public better than anyone that has ever lived.
By the end of the last episode this series becomes a bit tiresome though thoroughly enjoyable still.
The lead actress is great, the way the chess matches are shot is wonderful.
Russians are not the strerotypical villainous types. Thank god for small mercies.
This show has some rough edges but on the whole it’s good fun.
I said that if there is a show that knows how to balance Mitch by putting him on a path of redemption but not letting us giving or him getting the forgiveness, it's this show. And they fucking nailed it. Slow season, at this point I'm not sure how or when things will explode - if they explode at all, because they seem to be stuck with deep characterizations (two weeks ago Alex, last week Bradley, now Mitch, and I'm hoping for Cory next week) amplifying eachother rather than building tensions (even 2020 and covid is just silently in the background, rarely being important), but it's working well, even if it's not that striking than the first season.
[8.5/10] I’m assuredly overrating this one because of the reveal, but to put it in Shyamalan terms, what a twist!
What’s great about the fact that our heroes are, and have been, in The Bad Place this whole time is that it recontextualizes everything we’ve seen in a reasonably believable way. Sitcoms are founded on conflict, and we, the audience at home, had every reason to believe the glitches in the system were just part and parcel of the usual sitcom necessity of having some conflict to motivate the action.
But “Michael’s Gambit” turns metatext into text, revealing that the character conflicts and frustrations that the main characters have been through is not merely an incidental result of some unexpected error, but rather a deliberate attempt from the architects (in some ways, a stand-in for the show’s writers) to make the characters torture one another.
It adds a creative spin on everything we’ve seen so far. (Though I do wonder if, on rewatch, everything holds up to scrutiny.) I particularly love the conclusion that despite the consequentialist good she did, Tahani’s efforts weren’t enough to get her into the real Good Place because her motives were corrupt, and that Chidi’s obsessive morality and indecision led to him hurting everyone close to him. That helps us to see these seemingly enlightened characters in a different light, which is what good writing does.
Some of the initial business where the gang is debating who should take the two slots to The Bad Place is a bit tedious, both because the logic used is pretty weak and it retreads some of the feeble love triangle stuff from before, but where it leads is outstanding.
I particularly love the idea that the Bad Place architects, and Michael in particular, are going out on a limb with this. The notion of finding new and creative ways to torture people, and trying to come up with a perfect vicious cycle with these four people completely redoes the show’s premise and gives it tons of interesting new places to go.
In addition, it provides a promising reset for Season 2. Eleanor’s own gambit is a clever one, and I’m excited to see how it all shakes out.
Overall, the laughs weren’t as strong as I might have liked, but this is a brilliant twist that I absolutely did not see coming, so the show gets points for a genuine surprise that makes me see the prior twelve episodes differently.
(And hey, let’s throw out some additional wild speculation while we’re at it. Maybe in this afterlife, people don’t get sent to hell to be punished necessarily, but to be given the chance to improve and earn themselves a place in Heaven. Each time, our heroes get the chance to be a little better and get a little closer to eternal reward. Granted, I totally whiffed on the twist here, so take my predictions with a grain of salt, but still, throwing it out there anyway!)
"Privileged white male" is mentioned a lot in the episode and it’s kinda annoying because I’m not the biggest fan of gender and race politics. Nowadays literally every single American tv show or movie deals with current politics and has to be topical or socially "relevant".
Real Will become one cooperative prisoner. He's just a very lonely guy who wants companionship. I feel sorry for him. I hope he meets his fiancee from the Philippines.
Someone please explain to me how Fanning and Hoult are not raking in the awards for their marvelous performances. I really enjoyed this season, especially the strong second half.
It's rare that a show gets to have a perfect ending. Loved it.
I enjoyed the first half of this episode but the Big Bad of The 12 ended up being a total non-event of faceless nobodies, to say nothing of Villanelle being killed in the final minute.
Like others have said, the people behind this show squandered a terrific first season and an excellent cast to bring us a steep decline in quality. The small blessing is that it ended after 4 seasons rather than dragging it out for longer.
"what do you have for a social obligation I'm not emotionally equipped to be at?"
GENIOUS!!!
I'm speechless with this show. It's beyond amazing. I really really love these characters and how much tension there is. I really hope it keeps going for a long time.
They sort of had me forgetting how skeevy and evil Joe is! Until the last 5 minutes.
I liked Beck the best, then Candace.
Love really gets on my nerves.Did they have to make her so loud?
«You can think you’ve run away from something. But actually, you’ve been carrying it with you the whole time. (...) It’s a like a haunted house. Only I’m the ghost. You can get stuck in a place and not even realize it. If you’re not careful, you can get stuck there forever».
—
«Puoi essere convinto di scappare da qualcosa, in realtà la stai portando con te. La casa dei fantasmi. Solo che il fantasma sono io. Puoi restare bloccata in un posto senza accorgertene. E se non stai attenta resti bloccata per sempre».
Loved the finale but I'm not so sure about the fast forward. The makeup was unconvincing and her voice didn't change.
I was expecting the first end credits after the scene with Lenny.
