Too Much – Season 1 Episode 5

Published: Jul 15 2025

After half a season comprising 30-minute episodes, "Pink Valentine" treats us to an immersive, hour-long journey back into Jess's past with Zev. While "Ignore Sunrise" lingered on their initial encounters, "Pink Valentine" expertly reverses the narrative, presenting a condensed narrative of their unraveling. As anticipated, chaos ensues between Jess and Felix, albeit in unforeseen manners.

Too Much – Season 1 Episode 5 1

Earlier in the season, I expressed reservations about "Too Much" prioritizing plot over character development. However, I was premature in my judgment: "Pink Valentine" is all about character. Every aspect meticulously crafted to offer a comprehensive portrait of Jessica Salmon, spanning her ill-fated romance with Zev, her family dynamics, and her inner turmoil. Up until now, Jess's eccentric behavior had been largely overlooked—Felix saw beauty in her at all times, even when she acted erratic after Jonno's party, or when she accidentally set herself aflame. But in "Pink Valentine," her bizarre antics are simply that—bizarre. They lack humor, charm, or coolness; they are poignant. Yet, they are undeniably Jessica.

During the episode's first act, I found myself contemplating how, despite Jess's frustrating traits—her self-absorption, detachment, and skewed priorities—one cannot fault her for losing her composure after being dumped for someone resembling Emily Ratajkowski, and subsequently learning that the new object of her obsession is best friends with someone embodying Adèle Exarchopoulos. The French actress portrays Polly, infamous for her tattoo, accompanied by two counterparts, all close to Felix.

Jess encounters the Pollys at the "Hackney Donkeyfest," where Felix's band is performing. Similar to the dinner at Jonno's, this serves as another test for the couple, albeit this time Jess ventures into Felix's world. Felix leaves Jess with the Pollys as he prepares with his band, and she promptly determines to discover which Polly graces Felix's derriere. The answer presents itself unbidden—as Polly One (Exarchopoulos) leans over the bar, Jess spots "FELIX" tattooed on her back. Jess loses all composure. She inquiries if Polly and Felix had a sexual relationship, to which Polly nonchalantly replies in that typical French manner, stating they were "lovers" for a decade before realizing they loved each other better as friends. Jess is bewildered by this revelation.

Meanwhile, Felix becomes utterly engrossed in the band's activities, virtually ignoring Jess in the process. The Pollys inform her that, to their knowledge, Felix is not sober, a revelation he steadfastly denies at the episode's conclusion. Coupled with her disorienting recall of breaking into Zev's place, this news proves the final straw, pushing Jess to opt for ketamine. Initially, she had been attempting to maintain sobriety, perhaps out of solidarity with Felix. However, as the night's events increasingly unravel against her, she abandons all restraint. Polly One endeavors to reason with her, asserting that Jess has no cause for jealousy – their relationship with Felix had only brought out the worst in each other, and they are better suited as friends. Jess strives to heed her words, but through her alcohol-hazed vision, Polly metamorphoses into a feline.

It is heart-wrenching to observe the Pollys scrutinizing Jess, whom they promptly accuse of "killing the vibe." At Donkeyfest, Jess's insecurities manifest into reality: not only are these girls cooler and closer to Felix than she is, but they also show little inclination towards befriending her. That being said, it's challenging to feel too sympathetic towards Jess; she herself displays little interest in getting to know the Pollys. While encountering individuals from different facets of one's lover's life can be exhilarating, offering glimpses of them unseen before, Jess exhibits minimal curiosity about Felix's past before their meeting. Her primary focus lies in solidifying her own standing.

Whether Polly Three's decision to send Jess home stems from genuine kindness (as she kindly assists Jess through her panic) or mere bitchiness remains unclear. Regardless, she advises Jess to lie down with a cozy pillow and "navigate through her memories." Upon arriving home, Jess follows her advice. She tries calling Felix several times, apparently forgetting that he is on stage performing at a show she missed entirely, before ultimately surrendering. This marks the transition into a nested narrative, flashing back eight years to their charming meet-cute in Brooklyn's Alligator Lounge, where Zev and Jess first crossed paths in Williamsburg.

At first glance, everything about Zev exudes an enchanting charm and sweetness. Michael Zegen, who portrays him, masterfully commands the scenes with a sharp wit and an effortless confidence. He cleverly procures pizza tickets for Jess at the Alligator Lounge when her friends abandon her. On her 29th birthday, he waits outside her office with a cupcake, confessing his love for her for the very first time. He dotes on her nephew and showers even more affection on her grandmother, gently rubbing her feet. His rapport with Jess's family is so impressive that Nora implores her husband, Jameson, to emulate his behavior. The strained relationship between Nora and Jameson serves as a forewarning of impending troubles: they harbor a mutual hatred, their contempt only heightened by the honeymoon-like bliss shared by Jess and Zev.

However, things gradually take a turn for the worse once Jess and Zev begin cohabiting. Initially, it's minor issues, like his distaste for the excessive pink in their apartment. Soon, he accuses her of being selfish for not addressing her "anxious attachment style." When his Ivy League friends gather for a dinner party, he reprimands her for steering the conversation towards "Vanderpump Rules" instead of discussing Lacanian jouissance (I groaned inwardly). He criticizes her fashion sense and, after they finally enjoy a heartwarming moment at her nephew's school play, encourages her to simply "embrace her role in life," much like Polly Three will do years later. Jess finds the play bittersweet, elating her yet filling her with regret over the lack of "invigorating creative experiences" in their life together, contrary to her expectations. Zev counters that he writes every night, insisting the difference lies in her belief that a creative project only matters if it gains recognition. He claims that her overvaluation of performance is a flaw, an absurd assertion given that every artist yearns for their work to be seen.

Despite their relationship teetering on the brink, Zev agrees to adopt a dog with Jess. The little companion, whom she affectionately names Cutesie, brings her a glimmer of happiness, especially when Zev is away God knows where. However, her joy is swiftly extinguished when Zev insists she "get rid of" Cutesie after a nasty encounter with another dog at the park. The owner, a harbinger of doom, attacks Jess for no apparent reason, and instead of supporting her, Zev sides against her. Sounding like a disapproving father, he scolds her, "You want the thing so bad but aren't willing to put in the work."

Until this juncture, Zev's conduct had merely qualified him as a certified jerk, but it was the dog incident that unveiled his true malice. His dark nature only deepened after he crossed paths with Wendy Jones at a social function. Zegen portrays Zev with laser-sharp precision, convincingly embodying both the malevolent lover and the witty charmer. The mere prospect of another woman in his life turned him completely against Jess. His indifference to the heartache she faced in letting go of "Cutesie" was appalling. Even more distressing was Jess's chance encounter with him on a coffee date with Wendy in their neighborhood.

At work, a mere gesture from a P.A. named Casey—bringing Jess a latte, unlike Zev who hadn't even bothered to ask if she wanted coffee when he brewed a pot for himself—was sufficient to ignite her longing for affection and love. By this time, her need was so desperate that one forgot her initial shtick of seeking the spotlight. Jess's confidence had been shattered; she was a woman diminished.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a buried, hidden fragment of compassion within Zev. After all, he had once loved Jess. But when she revealed her pregnancy—the father could have been either Zev or Casey—and confronted him about it, also breaking up with him, he displayed not an ounce of emotion. Their confrontation would have easily won gold at the Gaslighting Olympics, had such a competition existed. Credit where credit is due: Zev was a master manipulator. He somehow managed to twist the situation so that it was Jess's fault for not breaking up with him sooner, allowing "someone who wanted him to have him." He even called her a cunt. The brutally realistic portrayal of this scene left one breathless, despite already knowing Zev's awfulness. It put us right in Jess's shoes, facing a coldness that neither her past experiences with him nor we as spectators could have prepared for.

Lena Dunham employed every tool at her disposal to craft a genuine character out of Zev and a gripping narrative of his relationship with Jess, all within a span of just over half an hour. "Pink Valentine" felt like a feature-length film condensed into a television episode. And with our current understanding, Jess's obsession with Wendy gains an additional layer, transitioning from two-dimensional (a somewhat endearingly crazy girl obsessed with her ex's fiancée) to three-dimensional (an abused woman struggling to break free from her abuser and reclaim her identity). In a multi-season show, we might have delved into the nooks and crannies of Jess's relationship with Zev across several episodes, but as it stands, the Gordon-Levitt version packs a potent punch.

The episode's crowning achievement lies in its ability to blend heart-wrenching sadness with relentless humor. The script masterfully fosters an intimate bond between the viewer and Jess, with Stalter's performance rising to the challenge, drawing us deeper into her world. Her portrayal shines brightest in the scenes where Jess contemplates and ultimately undergoes an abortion—it's as though her emotional journey alongside Zev on the rollercoaster of life has brought her even closer to Jess's turmoil. As Jess weeps silently throughout the procedure, her tears flowing unabated from before the anesthesia kicks in to the moment she awakens, the poignancy is palpable.

Yet, amidst this sorrow, there's levity. We chuckle as Jess's sister and mother whisk her away from the city, back to Long Island in a taco truck, her mother serenading her with Carole King's "It's Too Late" in a heartfelt attempt to lift her spirits. They make a pit stop at a roadside animal shelter, where they adopt their beloved old friend Astrid, hinting at a potential turning point. This optimism persists through their move to London, their encounter with Felix, and even when Jess awakens post-Donkeyfest to find Felix in her apartment, thanks to Gaz. Felix inquiries about her abrupt departure from the festival, and when she accuses him of being "coked out" and ignoring her, he clarifies that it was merely stress over the show and a bout of diarrhea. Jess is taken off guard; given all we've witnessed, we understand her inclination to blame herself for driving him away. In a sense, she had; her behavior towards the Pollys was erratic, and she wasn't as supportive as she could have been. However, Felix is merely embarrassed about the show—he confesses, "I feel like I'm in a wedding band"—and his openness, coupled with his stark contrast to Zev, prompts her to confess her love for him. Felix, however, cannot reciprocate. He admits he would if he knew how but struggles with expressing it. The moment is brutally honest. Though kind, his response leaves her reeling. How does one recover from such a revelation? Why can't life simply unfold as we wish it would?

This is the rom-com's clever trap. Initially, you're skeptical of such fantastical, impractical love. But by the time the genre acknowledges your doubts, conceding that, yes, it is unrealistic, you find yourself emotionally invested, almost tempted to throw something at the screen in frustration and disbelief.

View all