The more things change, the more things stay the same, except for Hannah, I guess. Her life is facing a slew of changes, and it seems like she’s not only changing too, but changing for the best.
We begin with a very typical salad dinner for Marnie that Hannah has orchestrated to tell her about her pregnancy. (Literally the only carb Marnie could stand at dinner is Hannah’s bun in the oven.) Shockingly, Marnie takes the news of Hannah’s impending motherhood pretty well. It’s not until they disagree over informing the father that the typical sharp edges of their friendship show through. (more…)
What do you get the mom that has nothing? Weed gummies, obviously.
Ready or not, here comes mama. Mama’s talkin’ loud, mama’s doin’ fine, except she’s really not doing fine at all. It’s more like Mama’s eating too many weed gummies and vomiting in Chinese restaurants. Let’s see Bernadette Peters try that.
Hannah’s mom Loreen is in town, and she’s in rough shape. These days she’s got a sweet medical marijuana hookup, and spends her lonely days stoned. As she munches on her first gummy worm, Hannah drops the bomb that she’s pregnant. Loreen reacts with a ton of chill, because she realizes Hannah feels like this really is her baby. (more…)
Papa don’t preach, but also Patrick Wilson don’t preach. Just when you thought this week’ episode of Girls, “Painful Evacuation,” was all out of twists and turns, one shocker followed another until we were so overwhelmed we collapsed right into Elijah’s briefs. Hannah’s in trouble deep.
After last week’s stunning “American Bitch,” an episode that I’ve personally witnessed no less than half a dozen conversations about on the streets of Brooklyn since it aired, we’re back in the throes of our core characters’ daily drama. This was an episode HBO withheld from critics/lowly television recappers, which generally means it’s going to be chock full of surprises. Boy howdy, was it. (more…)
Let’s cut to the chase: Last night’s episode of Girls is not the kind of thing that lends itself to the kinds of flip, jokey recaps we typically produce. In fact, being the one to discuss the episode at all feels slightly icky, as it focuses specifically on the experiences of young women placed in uncomfortable positions where power dynamics complicate consent. (I re-read that last sentence at least six times, and I’m still not sure it properly says what I want it to.) Still, the episode necessitates conversation, and I hope this post creates space in the comments and social media for others to weigh in with their takes. (Plus my editor shot down my earlier attempts of getting out of this.)
Two’s company, but three’s a crowd, unless it’s three people going together to Poughkeepsie, in which case you might need that third person to keep your ex-husband from shimmying down the chimney to get his Oxycontin.
Finally, someone is portraying the real millennial Brooklyn. The one that confronts their Oxycontin ex-husband in Poughkeepsie.
Allow me to explain. Marnie and Desi are still being so gross, and they decide to take a road trip to romantic Poughkeepsie for reasons that remain unclear. To help mask the charade, Hannah tags along. While squirreled away in their cabin, Marnie finds Desi’s mason jar full of Oxycontin, because — twist! — he’s been addicted to Oxy this whole time. Marnie, of course, does the entirely wrong thing, smashing his mason jar and stomping on his stash, turning Desi into a full-blown Marky Mark Fear monster, smashing windows and terrorizing Hannah and Marnie for a weird horror movie segment. The whole situation allows Hannah to drop some knowledge on Marnie: Maybe she didn’t realize her husband was pounding Oxy like they’re fucking Mentos because she’s too busy always thinking of her self. Mind blown. (more…)
You can keep Montauk, just leave us the Rockaways.
Beyoncé once said, “The best revenge is your paper,” which is true, unless you’re Hannah Horvath, and the best revenge is writing about how your best friend stole your boyfriend and you didn’t bother warning her about his oral herpes in the paper of record. The final season of Lena Dunham’s iconic, infuriating, painful and sometimes painfully accurate portrayal of millennial aging and angst kicked off last night by setting its protagonist on a path of something that almost looks like success.
Hannah’s “triumphant” performance on the Moth has led to a Modern Love column in The New York Times which has in turn led to some freelance work for something called SlagMag. The editor (played with perfect emotional disregard by the hilarious Chelsea Peretti) sends Hannah up to Montauk to infiltrate (and inevitably fail at) a bougie surf class for bored ladies. She, of course, fakes an injury to her “front arm” and ditches almost immediately, opting instead to down electric blue cocktails and sun her open vagina. It’s not a total loss, though. She ends up on a whirlwind romantic adventure with the hot (but dim) surf instructor Paul-Louis (The Night Of’s Riz Ahmed) that includes sloppy fucking on a beach, Cheetos, Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper and vomiting off the side of a bunkbed. Oh, and an acoustic jam of soft alt-rock, mid-tempo classic “She’s So High.” (more…)