Welcome back to your beloved soap opera, now decked out in the fancy threads of a prestige drama. Seriously, folks, if you're on the hunt for a show brimming with subtlety, this ain't your cup of tea, buddy (and yeah, I'm talking to you, buddy). But hey, that's half the fun! This show is overflowing with self-righteous monologues, brawls erupting at every corner, dramatic entrances at doorsteps, and characters dropping lines like “You don’t want to get in a pissing match with me, all I do is piss” with deadpan seriousness (Holland Taylor, you absolute treasure this season!). Honestly, I was utterly—UTTERLY—stunned that the episode's centerpiece was a dinner party, and not a single drink was hurled in someone's face. Though later, someone does go ahead and smash a bottle of wine onto the floor, so maybe that counts as a win for chaos. Anyway, this show is a wild, absurd journey, and you know what? It's always at its best when it fully embraces that absurdity.
So, yeah, the heart of “It’s Like the Flu” is this grand welcome dinner party thrown for Alex, with all the key players from TMS in attendance, and let's just say the air is thick with tension. Let's rewind a bit and set the scene leading up to this shindig at Cory's swanky hotel penthouse. Cory drops a bombshell on Bradley: not only is she not getting the evening news gig, but they're snatching up her new TMS co-anchor instead. Oh, and brace yourself—it's Alex who'll be rejoining her on the show. Needless to say, Bradley is furious. She feels betrayed, lied to by her so-called friend, and tells him to go screw himself. Literally. She decides to play the “I'm sick” card and stays away from the show for a solid three weeks. Now, you might be thinking, who can call out of work for three weeks when their job performance is already under scrutiny and still keep their job? Excellent observation! During a meeting with her agent, Bradley is convinced that not being fired means UBA needs her. She thinks she's got the upper hand, that she's in control.
But she's not. I mean, her line about “let’s remember who pays who in this room” was pretty slick, but she's got no clue what's really going on around her. After three weeks of this nonsense, Cybil orders Cory to give Bradley the boot. Cory does his best to convince Bradley that she might think she's sticking it to UBA, but she's only shooting herself in the foot. Why doesn't he just come out and tell her she's about to get the axe unless she starts playing nice? Who knows? Cory loves being the secret puppet master, that's for sure. Actually, scratch the “who knows”—that's a given. Cory thrives on being the covert conductor of chaos. Anyway, that's the vibe Bradley's bringing into this dinner party.
Meanwhile, there's Alex. You'd think she'd be a bit more cautious as she and her agent Doug (Will Arnett) meet up with Cory and Stella in Alex's new, ridiculously opulent executive office, but she seems to swallow Cory's tale of giving her the hero's return she deserves hook, line, and sinker. After everything that's happened, Alex, please, just a smidge more skepticism, okay?
Admittedly, Alex seems to be out of her element. She appears racked with nerves about her return, carrying a heavy burden of guilt—likely for a multitude of reasons. Her role in the culture at UBA, the tragic death of Hannah, and the act of abandoning Bradley to face the ensuing chaos alone are all likely weighing heavily on Alex's conscience. That brief, tense encounter where she retreats into her old dressing room, only to bump into Eric and explode at him when he naively assumes she and Bradley were once close friends, seems to underscore this point.
All of this palpable tension and emotional baggage follows Alex into the dinner party. While Cory is the only one who seems genuinely pleased by Alex's return, everyone else musters a facade of cheerfulness to welcome their returning colleague. Well, almost everyone. Mia, Yanko, Alison (Janina Gavankar's talent feels woefully underutilized in this role!), and even Stella attempt to don their best smiles. But there's one person who refuses to play along: Daniel. When Alex hugs him and inquires about his well-being, he coldly responds, "You mean since you screwed me over? I'm doing just fine." And when Alex tries to make amends for promising him Bradley's co-anchor seat after she successfully ousted Bradley—a promise that led Daniel to turn down the offer to co-anchor YDA, only for Alex to subsequently implode the network and then vanish—Daniel remains unmoved. She professes her desire to do better this time around, her sincerity palpable, but Daniel isn't having any of it. He delivers a cutting remark about how it took Hannah's death for Alex to finally "come to her senses." You can't win over everyone, Alex.
And then there's the long-awaited reunion between Alex and Bradley. When Bradley finally arrives, the two share a lengthy, awkward embrace, and it's clear from Bradley's demeanor that she's already over this whole ordeal. During dinner, as Alex pitches show ideas, Bradley rolls her eyes and sighs audibly. When Cory delivers a grandiose speech about how these two women have "changed the course of human history for the better" (Cory thrives on drama and hyperbole), and announces a major PR campaign centered around Alex and Bradley's reunion, culminating in a high-profile interview special, Bradley appears anything but enthusiastic. When Alex inquires if they're on good terms, she receives one of those "I'm fine" responses that clearly means the opposite and is instructed to schedule a meeting through Bradley's assistant. That's about as much as Alex can stomach of this dinner party, and she decides to make her exit. She delivers a little goodnight speech, her smile masking a myriad of emotions, about how she's been working on herself, attending therapy, and acknowledging her past mistakes. But her speech culminates with a bold declaration: she wants to be on TMS, and she's not going anywhere. That concluding statement says everything you need to know about Alex's intentions; she's here to stay, whether you like it or not, so you might as well get used to it.
As you might well imagine, Bradley doesn't take kindly to that notion at all. She trails Alex out into the hallway, and the two women finally unleash the clash they've both likely been itching to have ever since that fateful hug—or at least, Bradley has been. She's determined to make Alex understand that things are going to be different this time around. Bradley Jackson is nobody's "goddamn sidekick!" She's Alex's equal, and she wants Alex to be abundantly, painfully aware of that fact. And do you know what Alex fires back? "Good." She doesn't want Bradley to just roll over and accept whatever scraps are thrown her way. That's not the job, not by a long shot.
This only serves to enrage Bradley even further. Much of her fury stems from the fact that Alex abandoned her to fend for herself, even after promising to stand by her side when Alex decided to leave the show. "Sorry I was having a meltdown," is Alex's flippant response. Again, Bradley is left seething at how the conversation is unfolding. There's a lot of shouting, and an exorbitant amount of profanity being hurled back and forth.
Finally, Alex attempts to cut through the chaos: "A friendship with you sounds like a really bountiful journey," she quips sarcastically, "but the truth is, we were only on-air together for three weeks." "We don’t owe each other a thing," she tells her new—yet old—co-anchor bluntly. There's simply no way Bradley is going to get what she's after from this argument (honestly, what does this woman even want from Alex? It seems to change by the day). So, as the elevator doors begin to close on Alex, Bradley hurls one last, cheap shot: She brings up Chip. She reminds Alex that she worked with Chip for 15 years; she might not owe Bradley anything, but doesn't she owe Chip at least something?
You see, when Bradley first got wind of Alex's return and was at a loss, consumed by anger and bitterness over what to do, she called Chip to get the inside scoop on their former colleague. And let's just say, he doesn't exactly have the fondest memories. Which makes perfect sense, considering it doesn't seem like Alex even bothered to send him so much as a "thank you" text after his heartfelt, soul-baring voicemail. "She'll make you feel like the most important thing in the universe," he tells Bradley, "and then you turn, and she'll push you off of a cliff." She's only in it for herself, he adds for good measure, and if he ever sees her again, he "will have words for her."
Chip can rail against Alex all he wants, but when she shows up on his doorstep—Bradley really did hit a nerve there, apparently—and tells him she wants him to be her producer and that "it would mean the world to [her]," the only words he has for her are, "When do I start?" Oh, Chip. Chip. Chip. Chipper. You've only got yourself to blame for whatever comes next!
