Amidst the poignantly titled penultimate episode of the season, "Enough, Actually," a cascade of foretold calamities unfolds with dramatic finesse. In the realm of romantic comedies, the couple's crisis is an indispensable rite of passage. This genre's unwavering belief in love's transformative prowess hinges on its capacity to surmount obstacles rooted in the lovers' inherent flaws. We've delved into the concealed facets of ourselves that emerge when vulnerability strips away pretenses, and we've contemplated the love that persists unscathed once the rose-colored glasses shatter. However, what truly distinguishes the cream of the romantic genre is its candid embrace of life's harrowing inevitabilities: people occasionally succumb to their darkest impulses, committing errors along the way.
We were acutely aware that Jess's Instagram diary would eventually see the light of day, and post-Georgia-Peach and Oriel's nuptials, Felix's relapse seemed all but inevitable. The convergence of these two predicaments promised turmoil, yet what proves both unforeseen and exhilarating in "Enough, Actually" is how these twin catastrophes converge precisely as Jess finds her footing professionally. Life, as we all know, has a penchant for throwing curveballs – all at once. Ideally, Jess would excel in her career, nurture a loving bond with Felix, transcend her obsession with Wendy and Zev, and materialize at least one of the myriad opportunities her London move presented. Yet, such a narrative would border on fairy tale territory, and while romantic comedies teem with fantastical elements, they are firmly grounded in reality. And in reality, chaos reigns.
Since the wedding, Felix has adopted a distant, frosty demeanor towards Jess, a stark contrast to his usual warmth. Jess endeavors to comprehend the shift, both by posing direct inquiries and attempting to reignite their playful spark, but her efforts feel akin to communicating through bulletproof glass. One irritable, hangover-ridden morning, he labels her "dramatic," a dismissive remark that echoes Zev's tone. Rebuffed by Felix, Jess succumbs to her old habit of stalking Wendy's Instagram in the bathroom. Images of Wendy cuddling her reptiles, engaging in product placements, and donning Lois's "ironic Nixon T-shirt" flood her screen. The latter pushes Jess over the edge.
In the kitchen, she crafts a video. "Zev Goldstein, you stole my shirt and bestowed it upon your new bitch. That's not okay, you fucker! Take this message: kiss the width of my ass!" Unlike the clandestine videos of recent months, Jess renders this one public, reciprocating Wendy and Zev's overt affront. Meanwhile, Felix relapses into his notorious bad habits: post-soccer, he drifts to Auggie's, aware of the copious partying amidst the protest organizing. Felix is so desolate that he struggles to articulate even the witty remarks that typically flow effortlessly from him.
Even Nora and Jameson find themselves succumbing to their old, familiar tricks — when Jameson drops by unexpectedly to deliver Dash's "soaking wet" backpack, he catches Nora mid-conversation, just hanging up on a FaceTime call with Jess. She hastily rises to apply her makeup, but Jameson can't contain his impatience, barging in before she's had a chance to finish. Smirking, she informs him that she's preparing for "an event." The sight of Nora, semi-naked and concerned about her appearance just moments before his arrival, ignites something within Jameson. He attempts to plant a kiss on her lips, then boldly asks her to "make love hastily," but Nora stands firm, establishing her boundaries: She refuses him outright. The chemistry between Andrew Rannells and Lena Dunham is always a delight to behold, and in this moment, their vintage rapport shines through vividly.
Felix fails to return home after his visit to Auggie's, leaving Jess to slumber alone ahead of her shoot. Only to be awoken later by her neighbors' vulgar screams echoing through the walls. In "Too Much," the word "cunt" serves as a recurring thread, a trigger for Jess that resurrects memories of Zev's cruelty. Yet, in England, this word is used far more liberally and without the same shocking impact. This subtle detail underscores Jess's struggle to adapt to her new surroundings, unable to divorce the insult from her personal history. Yet, it also speaks to her unwavering principles, despite her reluctance to confront the word head-on. While other facets of Jess's worldview remain faintly sketched due to the dramatic focus elsewhere, her refusal to sit with William, a convicted rapist, at the wedding table, and her aversion to a word used to diminish women, demonstrate her core values, albeit somewhat muddled.
The need for women to speak up for themselves is front and center during the Christmas ad shoot, where Rita Ora steadfastly refuses to wear anything close to elf lingerie. "I was promised the role of Santa in a commercial that celebrated the message that we can achieve anything," she gripes. This is just one of the myriad disasters that befall the shoot: Kim yearns to return home, disappointed that Josie hasn't texted her or followed her back on Instagram since their tryst; Jonno goes missing as Ann, fed up with mothering their kids and their Irish wolfhound Diane, seeks self-fulfillment, such as auditing a criminal psychology class. After making a junior crew member, Jim uncomfortable storms off the set, declaring that he "doesn't take creative advice from those he doesn't hold in high esteem," with Jess, who relays the clients' doubts about Jim's apocalyptic Christmas concept, being the unrespectable person in question.
As the drama unfolds, Jess's phone buzzes incessantly. Her decision to make public the video addressing Wendy's attire choice, inadvertently turned her entire diary page—containing 537 entries dedicated to Wendy Jones—into an open book for all to see. Worse yet, she had tagged Wendy in one of those very entries. The footage of Jess setting herself aflame became an internet sensation, prompting influencers Jake Shane and Alix Earle, as well as actor Owen Thiele, to create their own reaction videos. From her sickbed, Wendy watched the avalanche of responses; Zev texted her with a scathing, "You're pathetic. Fuck you." Meanwhile, Nora attempted to find the silver lining, reassuring her family that such an over-the-top reaction was quintessentially Jess. Nora's intuition proved correct: the internet rallied behind Jess. Alix Earle described her as "unhinged yet relatable," while Jake Shane confessed he might have done the same. And, as Rita Ora wisely noted, the internet's memory is fleeting. Jess alone would carry the embarrassment, a sentiment foreign to her resilient spirit. Initially concerned the videos would derail her nascent happiness, Jess found solace in the internet's support and her unfiltered honesty towards Wendy, Zev, and anyone else paying attention. With Jonno a no-show and Jim gone, Jess did what she couldn't for Jessica Alba months prior: she took the director's chair with assurance.
Exuding confidence, Jess directed the commercial with consummate skill. Adhering to the tagline "lose the bells and whistles," Jess exercised restraint, casting Rita Ora in the Santa suit as requested, eliminating background dancers, and capturing Ora's a cappella rendition of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" under a solitary spotlight. Though the final product didn't explicitly convey that young girls can conquer anything, it was a minor detail overlooked in its universal appeal. Everyone adored it. "I didn't choke," Jess marveled to Felix later. "I rose to the bloody occasion with flying colors."
If only Felix could share in her triumph. Hoxton Grove Estate was enveloped in a pall of negativity, from Jess's quarrelsome neighbors—a group of women vacillating between love and loathing all season, culminating in betrayal when one seduced another's beau—to Felix's listless demeanor. Slumped on the couch when Jess burst in, brimming with tales of her viral fame, positive diary feedback, and directorial debut, Felix could muster only a meager "you nailed it." Fed up with his coldness, Jess confronted him directly, even goading him by suggesting his lack of ambition shouldn't dampen her celebration. She backtracked, tried everything, but Felix remained unreachable.
He exits his apartment, bound for a club, only to loop back to the scene that had kicked off his evening's saga. There, by chance, he encounters Fiona, a former friend from his partying days. They retreat to her opulent abode, where they indulge in more drugs, engaging in soul-baring conversations about the futility of finding genuine love when one's own heart is too battered to recognize it. Under her persuasion, he succumbs to a sexual encounter with her. As dawn breaks, Fiona weeps over her longing for her ex-husband, leaving Felix to slip away in silence. He catches a glance of reproach from Fiona's children, who are diligently working on their homework at the dining table, their judgment plain to see.
Returning to Hoxton Grove, Felix immediately unburdens himself to Jessica, confessing that he's been out "sleeping with an older woman, high on drugs, and drowning in alcohol" since their wedding day. Jessica, with little else to say, instructs him to pack his belongings and leave, informing him she'll be out all day. This moment is poignant, evoking both sympathy for Felix and a yearning for their relationship to mend. Yet, there's a bittersweet quality to it, as it marks Jessica's long-awaited embrace of independence. She's mustering strength in aspects of her life that she alone can cherish: her career, her uncontainable spirit, her innate instincts. Tears stream down Jessica's face, for the situation is undeniably painful and heart-wrenching. Yet, life is often thus. Our resilient protagonist is pushing through, forging ahead.
