Ladies and gentlemen, step right into the notorious "The Eisenhower Penis Tour," a grueling journey etched into the hearts of every soul in the glitz and glamour of showbiz, infamously dubbed "the playground of fools and rogues." If you dare ask Midge and Susie, they'd swear that even the devil himself had a hand in orchestrating this inaugural Mrs. Maisel comedy tour. "Someday..." is not just a tale of a high-society Midge venturing into the murky world of dingy motels void of bellhops (horror of horrors!) and, let's just say, bathrooms lacking in hygiene (Oy vey iz mir!). Oh, no, we're delving into beds so unclean, one could almost taste Susie's cheek through the grime. Add to that a string of disastrous dates where Midge's performance was abruptly halted by a kitchen inferno, and the Pennsylvania Harrisburg gig was outright canceled due to the dampness of the heavens. ("The roof has a 50% chance of collapsing," the club manager ominously warned.)
Our ladies' woes do not relent upon their return to the bustling New York. The subtle sexism they encountered in "Mid-Way to Midtown" is now escalated to a level bordering on the criminal. Yet, Midge, as resilient as ever, delivers a captivating set, despite her pre-stage complaints of appearing unwashed and disheveled. (Not that anyone would notice; this is television, and Rachel Brosnahan always radiates beauty, even if she's meant to appear as if she's spent the night slumbering in a car.) However, Ricky, the booker, deems it unnecessary to compensate these two ladies for their performance, citing their tardiness by a mere ten minutes and the lack of alcohol consumption (a crucial revenue stream for such venues, but that's a matter for another debate).
When Susie confronted the jerk to reclaim their hard-earned money, he audaciously imprisoned her in the closet, later dismissing it as a mere "joke." Faced with such a predicament, Midge swiftly sent an SOS to the one person who could make a difference in such a situation - Joel. As 2018 female viewers, we find it profoundly aggravating to witness a man swooping in to rescue two women from a sexual harassment ordeal. (But to the show's merit, Susie herself acknowledges this, asserting that she "would've figured out a way" as she is a formidable manager.) However, we must also consider that this is 1959, and seeking Joel's help was precisely the kind of response Midge would have instinctively chosen.
Despite Midge's "damsel in distress" moments, Joel's actions were commendable. He (a) extracted the money from Ricky without much fuss, (b) demonstrated his courage by punching Ricky, earning Susie's admiration, and (c) cemented his position as Midge's unwavering supporter by chastising the club owner for not recognizing Midge's potential to "put his shabby club on the map" (apologies to the shy autograph girl at the Gaslight. Your services are no longer required).
Oh, Joel, Joel, Joel, you're confusing me to no end. One moment you're intimidated by your wife's brilliance, and the next, you're the president of the Mrs. Maisel Fan Club? I want to advise you to let Midge be, but your remarkable growth is too captivating. Damn it.
Despite the need for Midge and Susie to call for reinforcements this time around, "Someday..." serves as a testament to their unwavering belief that as long as they stand by each other, they shall triumph. It's noteworthy how Midge earnestly requests Joel to teach her the tricks he employed with Ricky, aspiring to navigate her way forward without relying on a man's assistance. As the episode's title suggests, "someday" indeed holds promise for women in their profession, though we all know that the hope Midge and Susie harbor for the future will be interspersed with moments of profound dissatisfaction.
However, "Someday..." is not merely a reflection of the challenges comics encounter on the road. It also delves into what Midge is leaving behind, a warning that Declan Howell, portrayed by Rufus Sewell, had imparted in the previous episode. It seems absence truly makes the heart grow fonder, as Midge, having just crossed into New Jersey, finds herself constantly dialing home to ensure baby Esther misses her (really, Midge, it's more about how you feel, not Esther's!). Despite the fact that Midge hasn't thought about Esther for six months, Abe reassures his daughter that their bond is reciprocal, jesting, "Unless she can fit you in her mouth, you are of no consequence to her at all." Ouch!
The episode shines a spotlight more on Midge's inability to manage her schedule than her neglect of family life. She abruptly abandons her plan to throw a baby shower for her friend Imogene (yay, she's back!) and Rose steps in to save the day. In truth, the only ones visibly displeased with Midge's tour are Imogene and Rose. As for Ethan and Esther, their mother is hardly ever around, so I doubt they even noticed her absence.
Rose delivers the apt punishment for her daughter's irresponsibility, instructing Zelda not to remove a single balloon or cake plate from the Weissman living room. But the lesson Midge should've learned at age seven, not twenty-seven, is that when you create a mess, you must clean it up yourself, whether it's neglecting your children or your best friend's baby shower.
