By Spencer Coile
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Look out, world! Midge Maisel is growing up! At least, season 3 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel would like you to believe that. Balancing an impending divorce and a cross-country comedy tour, our plucky heroine (Rachel Brosnahan) is back for another season. With her manager Susie (Alex Borstein) in tow, not to mention her disapproving parents (Tony Shalhoub and Marin Hinkle) breathing down her neck, Midge definitely has something to prove. But to whom?
Known for her rat-a-tat tight dialogue and snappy performances, Amy Sherman-Palladino has cornered the market on a very particular style of sitcom; one that is simultaneously cozy and overstuffed. Packed to the brim with supporting characters and elaborate set pieces, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is bursting at the seams with potential - for growth, for progress. But like any series that had a stellar first season and a somewhat middling second, season three has to make a choice: change with the times or remain stagnant…
It’s the early 1960’s, and things are looking up for Miriam, or “Midge.” She’s opening for jazz singer Shy Baldwin (Leroy McClain) on his international tour, she’s finally about to be divorced from her ex-husband, Joel (Michael Zegen), and she’s begun carving out a name for herself as a comedian. Her career is stretched out before her; what could possibly go wrong? Shall we forget, though, her parents are forced to move out of their posh Manhattan apartment after her father quits his cushy teaching job at Columbia? Or how about the fact that she left her season 2 fiance, Benjamin (the very swoony and wildly tall Zachary Levi) by breaking up with him through letter?
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Midge refuses to acknowledge, let alone take responsibility for some of her actions, however. After all, she has a tour to go on. Throughout the third season, she travels with Susie to Las Vegas and Miami, meeting new characters and developing her comedy. Like in seasons past, Mrs. Maisel comes to life when Midge takes on her comedian persona of Mrs. Maisel - the vulgar comic who talks frankly about marriage, divorce, being Jewish, etc. In other words, it’s her personal life in a nutshell. At times, her jokes tread familiar territory. Still, it’s hard not to feel enthralled when Midge takes the stage, especially with delicious (and still somehow relevant) one-liners like:
Failure is how we grow. Actually, it’s how men grow. It’s how women shrink.
But something that’s especially rewarding about The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel this time around is that art takes center stage. It’s no longer about just Midge’s act. It’s about comedy and singing and dancing; everything that encompasses the art of performance. In the season premiere, Midge has a gig playing for the USO, and rather than witnessing her routine and then moving on to another scene, the camera lingers on the other acts and performers. They’re not necessarily characters we will see again and nor should we (the season already has enough characters to begin with). Yet their performances leave a mark, as an indication that Midge isn’t the only one trying to succeed in the industry. She’s simply one of many.
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Leroy McClain is particularly beguiling as Shy Baldwin. Known for his smooth vocals and effortless stage presence, Shy is shrouded in mystery throughout season 3. Regarded by the band as eccentric and prickly off-stage, he softens whenever Midge is around. She brings out the best in him. But The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel grapples with the possibility that Shy’s best is when he is on stage performing a persona, rather than living it himself. Because just like Mrs. Maisel, Shy Baldwin comes to life when he is singing. His identity is shaped by the songs written by Thomas Mizer and Curtis Moore, the first original songs written specifically for the series. In particular, on its surface, “No One Has to Know” expresses a forbidden love. But when Shy takes to the stage and sings it to an unsuspecting audience, it aches with a desire to be seen, to be fully heard, to be understood. It is romantic, it is melancholic, and, like the additional songs, it’s a knockout.
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However, instances like that are somewhat rare. Therein lies the issue of season 3: Mrs. Maisel is packed too tightly with supporting characters, some of whom leave less of an impression than the one-off performers. Progressively, Midge begins to mature. It’s definitely been a process, where little growth was seen between seasons 1 and 2. The third season begins to pull back on Midge’s insecurities and her flaws. Being a negligent mother is still a comedic afterthought, but it feeds into the character’s selfishness - a trait Joel is quick to point out on multiple occasions.
Still, as our leading lady develops, many of the subplots divulge into nothingness. Shalhoub and Hinkle are as dynamic as before, but they are saddled with storylines that take them nowhere. Hinkle’s, in particular, has never been better. However, Rose is offered little more than more disapproval toward Midge’s stand-up, something already explored in season 2. Matters are made even worse when Abe and Rose are forced to move in with Joel’s parents, Moishe and Shirley (Kevin Pollack and Caroline Aaron). To be clear, all four actors are fantastic, but the characters together are a hodge-podge of Odd Couple insanity. It’s diverging away from humorous and more so into obnoxious. Of course, I could understand if this plot was moving to something that would allow for the characters to grow, but it ultimately doesn’t.
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That is not to say, though, that all hope is lost. Some characters are fleshed out in some really fascinating - and oftentimes beautiful - ways. Susie’s rough exterior is starting to crumble under the pressure of also becoming Sophie Lennon’s (Jane Lynch) agent. Joel is no longer just the petulant man-child who cheated on Midge. And in one episode, Lenny Bruce (Luke Kirby) returns for a night out on the town with Midge in Miami. What begins as an evening of flirtation between the two slowly morphs into a continuation of Midge searching for happiness, at the expense of Lenny’s deep-seated sadness.
Ultimately, the season belongs (once again) to Rachel Brosnahan. At times the series feels stuck, as if Sherman-Palladino doesn’t quite know how to change the show’s rhythm. But Brosnahan is better than ever - especially if you stick out the season to its final episode. Until then, Midge seems to skate through life. Even when hardship hits, she brushes it off with a joke. In the season finale, though, she is held accountable for her actions; for what she has said and what she has done. As the lovely and complacent smile starts to fade off her face, it becomes increasingly clear that Midge still has some growing up to do. It may have come too late, but there’s nothing like a fourth season to get your act together.