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TV ratingAll our TV reports in one place. "I could not help but notice that this house was filled with women."
"Oh, yes, flooding with estrogen. Vagina wall to wall. It's like a matriarchal dystopia. "
We have now reached the penultimate episode of Better things The third season, so there is no better time to step back and look at the situation as a whole, and how much Pamela Adlon has adapted with talent. It is a mosaic of distinct pieces that, even more than in previous seasons, have been slow to reveal how well they are doing. Better things has always been more episodic than serialized, but in the third season, Adlon has embraced both styles in a more transparent way than ever before. Each slice operates on its own, from "nesting" to "toilet," and each new episode helps me better understand the previous one. Even when haunted themes and letting go – both in the sense of detaching from toxic people and letting go – were not always transparent (see again "Toilets"), a week of hindsight allowed to put these pieces back in place.
The new season was built on the hugely touching finale of Season 2, when Sam tightened his circle again – not chasing Alex out of their kids' lives, but limiting him to giving them up. But in one of his many refreshing demonstrations of honesty, Better things demonstrated the unintended effects of this protective gesture, as well as those that preceded and followed it. Duke had visions of his grandfather, Murray Fox, because his own father is mostly absent from his life (aside from the occasional call to a smartphone that she quickly lost). This prompted Sam to talk about his father, although unlike Phil, she never really pushed him out of his mind. Shortly after their first appearance at Sam, they fell back into their old routine; he even tried to give him a romantic advice.
But Murray is not the only ghost of the season: although Sam thought he had broken his last bond with his ex while getting rid of all their role-playing props, he still haunts her and her daughters. It's the youngest girls who are more vulnerable, though; In addition to Duke who was in conflict over the phone Xander had given him, we saw Frankie raising his father on several occasions, including his electrifying performance in "Get Lit". Earlier, Frankie had asked Sam why she had left Alex, but Phil had interrupted him. She will not have much more answer in tonight's episode because Sam still does not seem ready to talk about it. But a media is introduced to solve the problem other the situation of the ghosts, to the chagrin of Phil, who spent the first moments of "Get Lit" trying to clean the house of all the extra psychic energies that hide there. Her response to the psychic's description of the spirit proves that she did not totally divorce the memory of her late husband.
Whether communicating with spirits or not, the psychic continues to talk about the mistreatment of Sam by Frankie. Even though he applauds his tip, he warns her to use it responsibly – she does not need to point her sharp tongue at Sam every time she has it. # 39; occasion. Adlon is still as good as she is resting and leaves someone else to blame, but I do not want to mention the excellent performances of the rest of the cast, especially Hannah Alligood. . She works herself in a perverse moss with these remarks on "the muzzle in the hollow of the privilege," but she deflates quickly when it is reminded that Sam is not his enemy. Finally, the medium encourages girls to do what we saw Sam do all season *, be it Xander or a dangerous work environment: "avoid toxic people". Even when Max seems reluctant, he tells her to think of Xander as "someone who has let you down". If their father wants to be in their lives, he will have to make an effort; their opening is no longer a given.
With such an extremely cathartic moment, the episode almost looks to start upside down, but the writers Joe Hortua and Ira Parker have much more at their disposal in this excellent half hour of television . As soon as the company is gone, Max (and later Frankie) starts treating Sam like a doormat. Max may have already forgotten the lesson, but Sam has not done it yet, having found a pipe on the stairs (within the reach of some teenagers aged 11 and 14), she rightly chews Max and him said to go away. I want to believe that it will stay, but the way Sam reacts to Frankie's abandonment in the second half of the episode makes me think that she will continue to suffer the abuse.
Sam has been the focus of much of Season Three, which has captured all the anxiety and changes we experience long after puberty. But the series also made great use of the slightly shorter duration of reading for children – they have crossed all kinds of milestones, including puberty (Duke), college (Max), and in this episode, Frankie takes a new step with Sam. We also have a better idea of their passions and their current interests: Max dreams of becoming a photographer (for the moment) and Frankie, who we learn he has skipped a note, speaks in language spoken. She puts this talent to work tonight performing with two classmates at the eponymous festival. She speaks almost as if she were directly confronting Sam about the "little lies we tell our little ones," but Sam is far too proud to feel attacked. Sam is moved by Frankie's gift and performance; basically, she probably feels at least slightly responsible for her daughter's ability to express herself.
But Frankie grew up and, at some level, moved ahead, putting a physical distance between them just when Sam thought they were about to get closer. It's sad to watch, even if it sounds right, and it fits perfectly with the rest of the episode, as well as the biggest bows of the season and even series. In the first season, Sam admitted that she had essentially restored her momentum with Phil, in his dynamic with Max, Frankie and Duke. She's ready for them to scream at her, picking on maybe even hating her sometimes. What she is not quite ready to do is to be forgotten by them – she can endure becoming obsolete in other areas of her life, as she has attested throughout the season, but not with his daughters. Yet, while she walks around the lobby in the last moments of 'Get Lit', unrecognized by teens who smoke grass with Phil on the patio, she briefly becomes a ghost in his house, only visible for the type of postmen carrying Plan B and Hemingway.
The last act of "Get Lit" is simple, elegant and devastating. This highlights a new stage in the lives of the women of the Fox, a step that has not yet arrived, but when it will be, it will undoubtedly be managed with the same emotion that Adlon showed in guiding his family of televisions in the past three seasons.
Observations lost
- *: Something I saw in the comments, but that I did not really mention before, is that David is a pretentious person who could violate his ethics. I can see that; I guess I've never really seen Sam take any of their sessions seriously, which explains the lack of a therapeutic relationship, but that's a valid argument.
- Frankie's creaks were beautifully symmetrical about their grunts followed by mocking Sam-like grunts.
- For my part, I would like to know more about all the witches of Phil's lineage.
- Regardless of what you think of the spoken language (one of my colleagues is fiercely opposed to it), the sequence of performances was much more dynamic than it had the right to be, especially given the constraints of time. Good job, teen poets and editing team.
- I can not believe that the season is almost over! There has been a lot of talk this year of "the good second season", but Better things is crushing it in the field of the "third exceptional season".
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