As you are all acutely aware, I hold a steadfast belief that one can only unlock their utmost potential by abandoning half-measures and diving headfirst into the chaotic abyss. It took nearly the entirety of an eight-episode stretch within a ten-episode season, but behold, the moment we've been anticipating has finally arrived! Let us delve into the murky waters of an open marriage.
Joe, who amusingly brands himself a "serial monogamist" (more akin to a serial manipulator), astonishingly believes that opening their marriage is the panacea for their failing relationship. Hardly surprising, given his malformed perspective shaped by years devoid of healthy social interactions and informed solely by outdated relationship manuals penned in an era when women's rights were but a distant dream. Joe struggles even to grasp the notion of consensual non-monogamy with an open mind, unable to fathom, "Hey, it's not my cup of tea, but I fully comprehend its appeal for others."
How I wish we could linger longer with Love's voiceovers in episodes such as this, where Joe's intentions are as transparent as glass, while her motives intrigue me far more. For example, her enthusiasm for this arrangement seems genuine, yet is it merely a facade masking her nefarious designs (her attraction to Theo, her strategic closeness with Sherry), or does it stem from authenticity?
Initially, I thought Joe's proposal for an open marriage was a ploy to bed Marienne with Love's blessing. Instead, it transpires that his true intention is to shatter their marriage so that Love can effortlessly sever ties with him. Joe, your lack of self-awareness sometimes lends this show its comic relief. However, in scenarios like this, it merely grates to hear you recount how Love once embodied a "free spirit," and now your life is in shambles. Clearly, it's her fault, not your insatiable madness.
Joe subtly brings up James, Love's ex, now armed with unassailable evidence of her involvement in his demise. Love reveals that James balked at the prospect of fatherhood, using his illness as a shield to deflect her anger. Joe's internal response? Oh, absolutely, you offed this chap. Love decides that swinging "isn't me," to which Joe concurs, amending it to "it isn't us," having conveniently forgotten the wisdom imparted by therapy and the essence of individuality within a relationship.
Is anyone astonishment-struck to learn that Joe surreptitiously entered Marienne into an illustration contest without her consent? I detest such occurrences in shows where personal boundaries are flagrantly violated, and the aggrieved party decides to brush it off without so much as a hint of anger. This, Marienne, is a clear warning sign!
Love, fascinated by the idea of opening up their marriage, confronts Joe with her desire to embrace fun and wildness. Let's face it, hasn't Cary and Sherry's dynamic become infinitely more intriguing now that we know they engage in swinging? They openly discuss their fantasies and decide to confide in Sherry and Cary, who appear marvelously prepared for this arrangement, complete with a non-disclosure agreement (NDA), albeit I understand that enforcing such agreements can be notoriously challenging.
Yes, I find the way Sherry and Cary feed each other baked goods rather unsettling. But, oh, how I admire their swift abandonment of this mission upon sensing that Joe and Love's relationship lacks the solid foundation necessary for such endeavors. Cary's assertion that "a bisexual man is a truly optimized man" earns him extra points for wit.
I shall gloss over the mundane details of Marienne's custody hearing and Joe's role as a character witness, for it promises only disappointment—her hopes inevitably dashed by a judicial ruling that aligns with Joe's eventual, self-serving decision to "save" her and Juliet's lives by resorting to drastic measures against Ryan.
Back to the thrilling narrative: Love and Joe's quest to rejuvenate their supposedly dull (but actually murder-ridden) relationship. Love attempts a role-playing scenario in the yard, which takes an unexpected turn when Theo, clad in a Jason Sudeikis-at-the-Emmys-inspired tie-dye hoodie, mistakes her seductive gestures for an invitation and throws a football nearby. Theo, realizing Joe's watchful gaze, hastily retreats, prompting me to scribble in my notes: "Theo, save yourself from these psychopaths, please!"
Joe, feigning jealousy despite his self-professed emotional detachment, pretends to be perturbed to arouse Love's passion and rekindle their wild side. Love, mistaking a fleeting orgasm for a solidified relationship, eagerly texts the babysitter to proceed with their plan.
Theo manages to slip into his father's office, where he's confronted with an intricate surveillance system. Initially, I presumed he'd be terrified by his dad's omnipresent spying on the entire town. However, it transpires that what truly unnerves him is the footage capturing Joe punching the wall, perilously close to Love's face. Matthew informs Theo that he's probing into Love due to her ties to Natalie "and, consequently, to you." Theo can't abide such baseless accusations and roars that none of this will revive Natalie. In response, Matthew orders Theo to gather his belongings and return to his mother's place.
It's date night at the Quinn-Goldberg abode, albeit it would have been held at the Conrads had they not been caught up in a renovation spree. ("Elon's decorator is a genius, albeit excruciatingly sluggish.") The Conrads' numerous suitcases conceal an intriguing assortment of pharmaceuticals and sex toys, soon to be unveiled. Joe's sheer disgust upon glimpsing an array of vibrators and dildos amuses me immensely. Joe, really! It's time to mature. His notion of sex seems rooted in reading Jane Austen novels, where the slightest brush of fingers against a gloveless hand constitutes a bold move.
Sherry and Cary indulge in various rituals to set the mood, including full-body shimmies for "absolute liberation." Their safe word? "Hakuna matata." Joe watches Love and Sherry dance and is suddenly overwhelmed with love for his wife.
The men retreat to another room, where Cary flaunts his extensive collection of medications, offering Joe a pill that "amplifies testosterone like a beast." Then, Cary strips naked and masturbates in front of a mirror, murmuring, "If you can't pleasure yourself, how can anyone else desire you?" Joe is momentarily spared this encounter by a call from Marienne, who reveals that Ryan has circulated an anonymous email to all her contacts, attaching explicit photos of her—a despicable act that rightly infuriates Joe. (California does have stringent laws against nonconsensual pornography/cyber exploitation, so perhaps Marienne has grounds for legal action.) Marienne confides in Joe, "The irony of marriage is that they know you so well, they can hold it against you forever." Joe should really take that to heart, perhaps in front of a mirror. Marienne could definitely use a friend now, but unfortunately, Joe is amidst an orgiastic escapade. A four-person orgy, perhaps? Or merely a steamy foursome? Cary takes Joe's phone to secure it in a vault downstairs. Oh boy.
The couples finally reunited, with Love deeply engrossed in the moment, far more so than Joe. Yet, plows ahead with determination. I commend Sherry for repeatedly inquiring if all is well — for someone who initially came across as utterly self-centered and harsh, she's at least exhibiting empathy and vigilance now. Joe responds by saying he's simply unaccustomed to having an audience. Sherry then advises him, "Look at your partner." Joe's mind drifts off to an excruciatingly dull fantasy, envisioning Marianne donning a white dress beneath the library's butterfly paper tree adorned with construction paper. Seriously?
Love's radiant happiness fades from her face, and she exclaims, "HAKUNA MATATA," before dashing away. Of course, Love senses that Joe's thoughts are elsewhere. Joe denies it, but tensions mount until Love screams, "I KILLED NATALIE FOR YOU!" They pause, horror-struck, wondering if the Conrads have overheard. Returning upstairs, Joe conceals a meat hammer behind his back. Sherry's telltale sign of deceit is touching her elbow when she lies. It's time to probe further.
Sherry and Conrad pretend to be eager to resume their game, but Sherry hugs her elbow, and BAM, we're suddenly in a real-life version of The Hunger Games! Love grabs a knife, while Cary dashes downstairs. Joe retaliates with shards of broken glass. They both seize the arrows from their hunting trip. Ultimately, Joe bashes Cary's head repeatedly until he's unconscious, while Love chokes Sherry until she loses consciousness. I can't help but wonder if any or all of this chaos was captured by a surveillance camera broadcasting live in Matthew's office. This entire sequence is utterly insane and precisely the kind of dramatic tension you should be indulging in all the time!
Joe and Love then deposit the Conrads into the human aquarium and proceed to have the most passionate sex of their lives. (Well, Joe did take that testosterone.) To Joe's horror, he realizes, as if it were an obvious truth, that their love language is violence.
As the clock struck five in the quiet morning hours, Joe was intently scrubbing traces of blood from the car when a visibly inebriated Matthew wandered by, his steps leisurely yet unsteady. Matthew, sensing something amiss, insisted on sharing his suspicion—a fleeting scream had pierced the night, and his instincts told him Joe knew more than he was letting on. Joe dismissed it casually as mere "harmless pranks," but I couldn't shake the feeling that Matthew was onto something.
Meanwhile, Love had conveniently buried the memory of Joe's infidelity during their intimate moments, a betrayal compounded by his involvement with another. Her thoughts were consumed by a far more grim matter: she had imprisoned her best friend and found herself increasingly reliant on Joe, the sole accomplice in their seemingly interminable cycle of violence and murder. Joe, momentarily distracted, chuckled to himself about an upcoming custody hearing, seemingly unperturbed by the gravity of his circumstances.
Returning to the bakery, they glanced at the baby monitor, where Cary and Sherry, trapped within, could be seen pacing anxiously, their fists pounding against the glass. Their plight was dire; the means of their escape—perhaps a hidden spare key—remained uncertain. Yet, amidst this bleak scenario, Love's infatuation with Joe reached new heights, her adoration unclouded by their dark deeds. And in her twisted world view, wasn't that what truly mattered?
