Ava's abrupt dismissal could very well have marked the most poignant denouement to the Girard Creek bribery saga, yet it hardly signaled the demise of this fiery character. This is Ava, after all, whose resilience knows no bounds. The poignant scene of her surrendering her ID badge might have tugged at our heartstrings, but the more plausible scenario is witnessing her spring back to life before her footsteps even faded from the school's threshold. Ava's departure was never a foregone conclusion; she is too intricately woven into the show's narrative tapestry for such a neat and tidy exit. Patrick Shumacker, the co-showrunner, reaffirmed this in an interview with TheWrap, stating unequivocally that Ava's "journey is far from over… it's a longer game, one that won't be resolved in a hurry."
While Ava's future hangs in limbo at the episode's close, we glimpse a facet of her character unseen before. For the show's audience, her termination serves as a monumental plot twist, rocking Abbott Elementary to its very foundations. Yet, within Ava's universe, the school is but a thread in the intricate web of her life – hardly her primary revenue stream. Ava, who has casually dated basketball star Andre Iguodala, graced the cover of Inner City Doomsday Preppers Magazine, and even inspired a hookah flavor, is more about what Abbott will lose without her than the other way around.
Gregory is the first to grasp the rapid unraveling that ensues in Ava's absence as he stumbles upon the first of many hurdles in his role as interim principal. His reign commences as meticulously mild-mannered, with a morning announcement reading so lackluster it could only be outdone by Ira Glass himself. Gregory's renewed ambition to become principal is entertaining to witness – much of his character development has stemmed from his inability to deviate from his rigid life blueprint. Now, he returns to his goal as a mature, well-rounded individual… albeit not too well-rounded, as his neuroses remain as prominent as ever. His descent into Type-A puzzle-solving madness begins when he realizes he cannot decipher Ava's enigmatic filing system. The ensuing chaos rivals the intellectual prowess displayed by Brooklyn 99's Ray Holt (RIP Andre Braugher) and Amy Santiago.
Melissa seeks his assistance in updating a student's file to reflect a garlic allergy (poor soul, imagine a garlic bread-less existence). Yet, when Gregory attempts to locate the folder, he is baffled by Ava's peculiar notations. Gone are the days of the "hot dad scale"; phrases like "Natalie Anderson Blood vs Water 1" now serve as the sole clues into Ava's mind. I was as perplexed as Gregory until he mentioned Boston Rob. My age may be showing, akin to Bravo's beloved Ciara Miller, who was unaware of Boston Rob's charm in the early 2000s, knowing him solely from The Traitors. Melissa, however, being a "warm-blooded, mostly straight woman who was alive in 2003," immediately grasped the Survivor connection. The pair embarks on a binge-watching spree, but realizing it would take an exorbitant amount of time to watch the series in its entirety, they have no choice but to seek the mastermind's counsel herself.
This particular episode serves as a crucible for Barbara's character evolution, as she embarks on her role as the music class instructor. My grievance remains consistent with my earlier sentiments this season; it would be refreshing to witness Barbara transcend her stubborn persona and engage in diverse narratives. While there are glimmers of her gradual growth, and Sheryl Lee Ralph's portrayal of her signature quirks remains as endearing as always, I yearn for deeper exploration. Notorious for her inflexibility, akin to Gregory, Barbara faces challenges in connecting with a newer generation of students, compelling her to adapt her teaching methodologies. Her task with the older pupils is monumental, for they are not as readily placated as the kindergarteners, whose fresh perspective on the world is innocent and curious.
Within moments, she realizes that these older children are less concerned with mastering the "fun-damentals" and more enthusiastic about crafting viral videos. Her lessons on distinguishing between minor and major scales evoke eye rolls, yet everyone's interest perks up when a student showcases a video he crafted on his phone, a remix featuring Barbara's catchphrase "fundamentals," accompanied by the class dancing in rhythm. Unmoved by the music video, Barbara snobbishly remarks, "Honey, that's not a song; it's a cacophony of sounds." Jacob, whose presence in her class is both amusing and typical, senses her hurt feelings, resonating with her frustrations as an educator to the older students. He reminds her of her teaching prowess and encourages her to meet them halfway. Like most of Jacob's advice, his words barely register, except for "You're a great teacher," which lingers in Barbara's mind as she exits the breakroom, determined to figure it out solo.
Initially, she attempts to engage the students in learning chord progressions by analyzing their favorite songs, but assigning extra homework for an after-school club proves ineffective. Inevitably, the storyline concludes neatly and predictably, with Barbara ultimately aiding the students in enhancing their video — acknowledging that sometimes, one must embrace Gen Z for who they are and hop aboard the TikTok bandwagon.
Conversely, Janine remains steadfast to her origins. Ironically, Schumacher revealed to TheWrap that Quinta's idea it was to terminate Ava, but for Janine, this scenario represents her worst nightmare. As Ava returns to the school two days post-audit to collect her belongings, forced to wear a visitor's badge (gasp!), Janine watches anxiously, despite Ava looking better than ever in what could be deemed one of Janelle James' finest wig creations. She probes Ava about her emotional well-being, but the disgraced principal insists she's thriving, with ample time for more lucrative side ventures, including public speaking — a perfect fit for someone embodying the traits of a cult leader. Janine stands in stark contrast to Ava, with her world anchored by Abbott. She cannot fathom a reality where Ava's tenure concludes so devastatingly and vows to seek a resolution with the district. Though her efforts yield minimal results beyond leaving a message with Manny and discovering an appeal option, Janine relentlessly tracks Ava down to what she presumed was her residence but turns out to be her P.O. box (obviously, she wouldn't divulge her home address to them).
Unperturbed by Janine's relentless updates regarding her case, Ava dismissively rolled her eyes at the mere notion of pleading for her old job back, sarcasm dripping from her words as she joked about "giving them a second chance to terminate me." While her colleagues were preoccupied with such matters, Ava's heart lay elsewhere—specifically, with an impending "TEB-Talk" she had agreed to fill in for at the eleventh hour. Janine, sensing the event's tacky aura and its less-than-glamorous venue in Conference Room L of an airport hotel, pushed her former boss to press ahead with the appeal. However, Ava remained as indifferent as ever, her casual disregard sending a chilling shiver down Janine's spine.
So rattled was Janine by Ava's nonchalance that she enlisted Melissa and Gregory in an audacious plot to intercept Ava just before her speech, hoping to persuade her to focus instead on preparing her appeal to the district. But Ava's mind was steadfastly fixed on the task at hand—a speaking engagement that, much to her coworkers' astonishment but not mine, turned out to be an overwhelming success with a capacity crowd.
Reinvented as a life coach and philanthropist, Ava boasted about pulling Abbott from the depths of the bottom one percent, styling herself as the "compass" guiding her devoted audience, who hung on her every word. Meanwhile, Mr. Johnson entertained the throng by firing T-shirts into the air with a cannon. Ava captivated her followers with tales of love blossoming between a "little annoying woman" (Janine) and a "slender man with edamame arms" (Gregory), before reciting lyrics from "Closing Time" as if they were motivational mantras. By the speech's conclusion, Ava's former colleagues from Abbott found themselves queueing behind admiring fans just to catch a glimpse of her.
Janine conceded that Ava was thriving without her principal's role, while Melissa and Gregory implored her for the code to the system. Ava revealed how player names and season numbers correlated with students' names and bus routes, explaining that alerting parents to traffic delays was one of the most frequent uses of student files. Gregory was so impressed by Ava's meticulous system that he was inspired to overhaul his own desktop organization. This small yet telling gesture of care and attention to detail underscored once again how Ava consistently went above and beyond for her community, and I am confident that they will repay her kindness in future episodes.
