It's a timeless narrative: A boy encounters a girl, their courtship blossoms into a whirlwind of romance and sexual escapades tinged with the dark undercurrent of a handful of manslaughterous incidents. Together, they welcome a child into their world, settle into the tranquility of suburban life, purchase a house, and deliberately end one more life, followed by another, albeit unintentionally. Sworn on a pinky promise, they vow: No more murder. Yet, as the spark in their relationship fades, one wonders: Are they truly living?
Six months have elapsed since Love took Natalie's life. In therapy, Love and Joe present themselves as a mundane, unremarkable suburban family. Joe finds himself engrossed in lawn maintenance, uttering the comedic gem, "The lawn is the foyer of the home," which evoked genuine laughter. He convinces himself that his life has become so monochrome and devoid of passion that he no longer indulges in solo pleasures, not even in the shower. Moreover, his libido wanes when intimate with Love, who fails to ignite his desire due to her absence from committing or concealing homicides. They prioritize Henry's happiness above all else, believing that parenting is a testament to sacrifice!
Love reveals to the therapist that Joe struggles more than she does in forging friendships; his sole companionship stems from his workplace, where "friends" translate to Marienne, the latest target of his infatuation, doomed from the start. Though Madre Linda's social scene leaves me, like Joe, underwhelmed, I commend the therapist for urging Joe to cultivate friendships outside his marriage—wise advice that more couples should heed.
Love's makeup gleams throughout the episode, a sight as exquisite as her attire. This meticulous grooming may signify her complete assimilation, but who cares? Joe's slick, douchy appearance for the family photo is also a masterpiece of styling that perfectly encapsulates his character. Kudos to the hair and makeup department for their exceptional work this time around.
Perhaps Love's radiant complexion hints at a secret: She remains in contact with Theo, aiding him from afar by arranging Ubers when he's too inebriated to drive and reminiscing about their fiery kiss. The cliché of the bored housewife yearning for an illicit affair with the hot next-door teen fits seamlessly into the suburban TV tropes bingo card. Additionally, when I discovered their plan to enroll Henry at Ashman School—despite all the hoopla about relocating to Madre Linda for its stellar public schools—I was flabbergasted.
I adore the irony-free mantra Joe constantly chants to himself, "Maybe I am the problem?" Indeed, Joe, you've hit the nail on the head; you're a certified nutcase! When Joe retreats to the library, a sanctuary bathed in soft, warm lighting, embraced by the security of hardcover tomes and their adoring enthusiasts, Marienne mercilessly teases him about his appearance, likening him to "Patrick Bateman on a Venetian gondola." For reasons that seem eerily normal, Marienne coerces Joe into posing for her and indulging her flirtatious inquiries about his cherished childhood literature, all the while intending to create an illustration that bears no resemblance to him. While I couldn't care less about Marienne's participation in the illustration contest, I must admit, she's an improvement over Guinevere Beck, whose aspiration to become a writer amounted to dramatic flops on her bed, fleeting laptop glances, melodramatic sighs, and laptop closure. It's refreshing to witness a woman with some semblance of perseverance.
Joe's budding friendship with Sherry has unfortunately tethered him to Cary, a man who revels in discussing the secret to achieving "truly orgasmic barbecue"—by slaughtering one's own meat. Thus, Joe finds himself ensnared in an all-male hunting expedition, seen as the sole path to reaffirming his masculinity. Unleash the primal instincts! Frankly, based on Cary's graphic descriptions, I harbored a fleeting hope that they'd all engage in a woodland orgy, but alas, that was not the case. Once again, I find myself captivated by the pervasive gender norms in this purportedly progressive milieu. It strikes me as somewhat anachronistic, given the setting, doesn't it?
Meanwhile, Sherry's juicy gossip reveals that Theo arrived intoxicated for a midterm and subsequently took a leave of absence. Theo drops by to see Love, and Joe's timely entrance catches him in the midst of a revealing conversation. Theo taunts Joe with a "Richard Yates-level attention to detail," a stinging insult indeed. Love confesses about the Uber incidents, prompting Joe to channel his inner Adam Driver from "Marriage Story," shouting while pounding a wall in frustration. I scribbled in my notes, "Why don't Love and Joe just... open their marriage?" Alas, they're committed to the archaic notion of making it work: Men as hunters, women as hosts of children's birthday parties, husbands and wives limited to monogamous kisses, and no felonies committed by anyone.
For reasons unknown, Love believes sending Joe on a weekend trip with the guys is the solution. Deep down in her reptilian brain, I suspect Love realizes that ridding herself of Joe is the prerequisite for indulging her desires with Theo.
The manner in which the gentlemen on this expedition regale tales of Cary and his rituals, purported to have salvaged their marriages and unleashed their inner beast, strikes a peculiar chord, akin to some esoteric cult. One can almost hear the gleeful antics of a writer’s room brainstorming Cary’s outlandish mantras. The cardinal rule? You dine solely on what you personally slay. Furthermore, these men are privileged to punch one another square in the face, yet moments later, they can collapse into each other's embrace, sobbing like wounded creatures. Scribbling in my notes, I muse, “Are these fellows about to engage in carnal pleasures, or…?” Alas, it’s merely shirtless hunting that ensues. Personally, ticks would be my paramount concern, but evidently, Lyme disease is a plight reserved for girls and infants yet to embrace their inner beast.
During a nocturnal dash through the forest accompanied by Cary, Joe is goaded into landing a punch on his leader's visage. Cary stumbles over a cliff's edge, leaving Joe convinced he's dispatched him. A dramatic sequence of CPR ensues, but then, Cary resurfaces, as good as new. “I’m invincible,” he declares, thrusting his arm back into socket with a disconcertingly crunchy noise, and labels Joe a “finest example of masculinity.” It’s maddening that not a single peck on the lips transpires among them. Joe believes these men have “embraced his darkness,” when in reality, they’ve done no such thing.
To ensure no detail escapes notice, we’re treated to yet more nostalgic glimpses into The Queen’s Gambit’s tranquilizer den, a place that distinguishes the feeble from the merely forsaken. In this extraordinary episode, Joe could have propelled a bully down the stairs, yet refrained. His dream paramour, the nurse, reassures him of his Good Person™ status, emphasizing he’d remain one had he pushed the bully, given the latter’s deserved fate. Good People™ wield the ultimate power: the unilateral decree on who merits a thrashing.
Abandoned to her solitude once more, Love unexpectedly finds herself once again face-to-face with Theo. Unbeknownst to many, they had once shared an intimate cyberspace friendship, exchanging emails until Love drew a firm boundary that Theo respected without question. However, Theo's ears caught Joe's anguished shouts of the previous night, sparking concern for Love, unaware of her recent violent encounter with a rolling pin right where Theo now stood.
Later, Theo, found guilty of a DUI after an ill-advised joyride on an electric scooter (a cautionary tale indeed; be prudent, scooter enthusiasts!), reached out to Love. She, in turn, decided to impart a lesson by joining him on the scooter, a novel experience for her. Inevitably, they toppled over, and amid laughter tinged with tears, Theo confessed his plans to take a sabbatical, unable to shake thoughts of Love. He sensed her unhappiness, prompting her to seize him in a kiss, leading to an impromptu tryst amidst the dust.
Upon her return, Glamma informed Love that she had witnessed Theo exiting her vehicle and missed a crucial FaceTime call from Dottie, who was anxious to witness Henry's first steps. Though Dottie might possess questionable traits, her advice, albeit blunt, had merit: Love thrived on fixing broken projects, as evidenced by her obsession with her brother and initial fascination with Joe. "Let me put it bluntly: mature. This boy will only divert your attention from your son," Dottie warned, suggesting fine wine as a healthier obsession compared to teenage boys. Nevertheless, Love sent Theo a message, "Never again. Seek someone your own age," a potentially perilous decision considering Joe's history of intrusiveness and possessiveness.
Joe returned home, a transformed man, assuring Love that he trusted her implicitly, a statement that raised red flags akin to a five-alarm fire. Love, however, saw it as a victory, believing their sexual relationship could flourish anew with Joe's newfound savage nature. Joe had orchestrated a bakery alarm as a pretext to leave the house and spy on Marienne, deciding against keepsakes or social media, opting solely for "watching." This, arguably, was the most insidious form of stalking. Joe intended to nourish his "inner beast" discreetly, believing he could manage his obsession without detection or causing harm. Perhaps.
