The last time we caught a glimpse of Midge, she had sworn off professional comedy, yet she still managed to steal the spotlight at a party with her witty jokes. Weeks later, she transformed into a semi-professional socialite, gracing a different soirée every evening, delighting the guests with tales of her wife-murdering high-school sweetheart and humorous takes on Hanukkah's inability to rival Christmas. It's Midge in a nutshell: cautious about venturing into the bustling world of Greenwich Village, yet so charming in her uptown sphere that she seamlessly weaved her stand-up into the daily fabric of the Upper West Side.
However, despite her popularity as a sought-after party guest, Midge isn't receiving the remuneration she deserves. Thus, when she stumbled upon an impromptu sketch collaboration with a struggling comedian, Randall (Nate Corddry), he proposed the idea of forming a duo. To Midge, unaware of the legendary Nichols and May, this prospect was novel and alluring, especially the lucrative opportunities in commercials and industrial gigs. But Susie, her manager, saw it as a threat, not only to her position but also to Midge's growth as a comedian. She feared Midge might get typecast as the "ditzy broad" hawking Buicks, rather than the original voice she was destined to be.
Susie's concern is valid, but her role as the "guardian angel of comedy" often overshadows the fascinating character arcs Midge could have pursued. After all, every comedic career is built on countless failures, both on stage and behind the scenes. But with Susie constantly guiding the ship, we'll never see Midge discover that a double act isn't her forte, or struggle with the constraints of commercial work, or suffer a crushing blow beyond mere unpreparedness. Although Midge could undoubtedly use a slice of that Buick pie to upgrade her modest apartment, Susie remains steadfast in her self-sacrificing devotion to Midge's artistic journey. She's a saint, albeit one with a foul mouth, a chain-smoking habit, a penchant for shoplifting, and a voracious appetite for lobsters.
Meanwhile, the time that could have been spent witnessing Midge's career missteps is instead devoted to her family, as Abe is offered a dream job consulting with the geniuses at Bell Labs. It's a refreshing twist, giving the Weissman family a plotline that doesn't revolve around Midge and Joel's tumultuous relationship or their scheming to reunite them. Moreover, it allows Tony Shalhoub to flex his acting muscles a bit more. (His playful act of pretending to be too busy for the Bell Labs gig is brilliant—you can see where Midge inherited her savvy.)
Abe's promotion stands as a momentous event, even attracting a special guest appearance from Midge's mathematically inclined brother Noah, portrayed by Will Brill, alongside his anxious wife Astrid, played by Justine Loupe. Astrid, a former outsider who has eagerly assimilated into the fold, yet still struggles to fit the mold, finds herself grappling with fertility woes and fears that Noah might abandon her, similar to how Joel deserted Midge. (In a heartwarming scene atop the fire escape, Midge ensures her brother's vow not to repeat such a mistake; fortunately, his affection for Astrid is genuine, and the prospect of children does not faze him.)
Astrid's mention of Joel seemed like a fleeting reference in the episode, but he soon reemerges, this time disrupting the family's celebratory dinner by showing up on a date with Penny at the same restaurant. He offers a meek apology to Midge for the awkward coincidence, which Noah and Abe calculate to be a staggering one in between 12,000 and 16,000 chances. Yet, he has the audacity to be dismayed by the absence of her wedding ring, even though he himself is the one who betrayed their marriage by moving in with his secretary. Despite my inclination to find favor in Joel, the show fails to present him in a favorable light. And Penny, whose sole dialogue in this episode revolves around questioning the authenticity of General Tso (a real figure, though his connection to the famed chicken dish remains a matter of debate), adds little to the narrative.
The only redeeming aspect of Joel's appearance is the heartfelt scene it triggers between Midge and Susie, where both women forge a deeper bond around difficult truths. Susie is right in urging Midge to embrace her destiny and stop resisting, but Midge is equally correct in pointing out that Susie, as a personal manager, must also be there for the personal side. "If you're to be my manager, then you must deal with the personal aspects as well. You'll have to listen to me talk about my husband and my children. And you'll have to tell me I'm good, even when I'm not," she says. It's the first time in this tumultuous journey that we see Midge weep, and it's a well-deserved moment. She has been valiantly holding it together, and she needs Susie's support for all aspects of her life, not just the glamorous bits.
It's fortunate that Midge has such support, for her fragile house of cards is poised to crumble. I knew her recent criminal record would eventually catch up with her, and indeed, it surfaces during Abe's background check for Bell Labs. Concurrently, those basement audio enthusiasts have stumbled upon a recording of Midge's first, drunken performance at the Gaslight. Sooner rather than later, the uptown elite will learn of her downtown endeavors, and their reaction will not be favorable.
