by Chris Feil
E7 - "Babar the Borible"
I haven’t been quite sure what to make of this season of Transparent. Whereas the two previous seasons were fairly bold in creating seismic arcs for all of the Pfeffermans, this season felt like a chamber piece full of half-steps towards global politics and religion. The journey to Israel was an intriguing way to continue expanding the family history and contextualizing the show’s themes. But by the end of the season, the religious elements of the seasons feel more tangential and underdeveloped. Odd that as Transparent’s literal world got bigger, the show got unsatisfyingly smaller...
On the other hand you have Allie coming to terms with a journey yet to come, so perhaps this season was built as a primer for eventual closing chapters. In hindsight, the show has been laying the groundwork for Allie’s own gender journey, her own childhood trauma’s yet to be fully named. Even if Maura somewhat extrapolates on Allie’s confession of uncertainty, Maura is the one to understand her daughter’s displacement. When she leaves the family to return to Lyfe’s camp, her emotional state is as concerning as the potentially unsafe journey.
Sarah and Len’s forced confession of their own is comparatively trivialized, the triad relationship becoming more exhausting than its worth. Or maybe Sarah and Len are just themselves exhausting - it’s the Pfeffermans, who’s to say?
E8 - "Desert Eagle"
Though many of the season’s subplots go underdeveloped, the relationship between Maura and Moshe is meaningfully so. There is no illusion to the lack of depth in his engagement - even if he is doing as much as can be expected, it still stings that he is only so interested in his children’s lives since abandoning them. When asking Moshe if he has any questions about her life, Maura is given some antiquated masculine ideas and minimal compassion. Even the casualness of the reveal of Maura’s aunt’s Nazi-era trans identity stings with his shoulder-shrug demeanor. As ever, Tambor’s silence contains multitudes.
The revelations of the past are Shelly’s burden this episode, bursting out in the desert at the end of the episode. This moment is like the flipside companion to last season’s To Shell And Back heights, here her expression more spontaneous and devastating. Without control, Shelly proclaims her childhood abuse and unleashes a lifetime of abandonment issues that followed. In one rush, the tapestry of Shelly’s nagging, her passiveness, and the Mario of it all comes together as one open wound. It’s as unexpected and and calamitous as such monumental real-life confessions often are, and once again Judith Light delivers a season-high acting achievement.
E9 - "They Is On The Way"
If the last episode was an effort in shared pain, this one is about shared joy. Here those sidelined religious themes I mentioned at least drift in as vague spirituality. The Pfeffs make it to the Dead Sea for a float session, a major moment of calm after Shelly’s explosive confession. Of course Maura can’t really contain the conversation with Allie, letting out both more details than she should share and her own interpretation.
But there is some quiet healing for both Shelly and Josh. For all of their mutual and separate baggage, it’s rather beautiful how the show brings them together to solve a simple problem. In helping his mother overcome her fundamental fear of water, Josh also allows himself to care for someone else out of pure selflessness. In all of the rage and sobs that came before, this was a quiet moment that cut just as deep.
E10 - "House Call"
Save for Shelly coming to the rescue to kick out the Airbnb guest (honestly, what was this story line?), this is a relatively subdued finale but with a few cliffhangers for next season. Len and Sarah tumble into one final fling with Lila because of course the do, and due to recklessness, we might have another Pfefferman on the way. Allie decides to stay in Israel but Lyfe’s camp is ransacked before she can return, leaving her more alone than ever. The relief of the episode is that Josh gets serious about his sex addiction, promising that we might get some story for him next year.
And the season ends with another return to Jesus Christ Superstar, “Everything’s Alright” perhaps as much of a foolhardy comfort as it ever was.