There is an excellent series we are watching that is coming to a conclusion after 6 years, including the two years off for Covid: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. If you have not seen it and have a tolerance for rude language and jokes, go for it. With the exception of last year’s season, which was only OK, the writing and acting are almost beyond belief. We are taken on a ride with Mrs. Maisel – Midge – through the late 1950's and early 1960’s as she gets married, has two kids, does the household routine of an upper-middle class New Yorker of that era , gets divorced, and then relentlessly pursues her life-long ambition of becoming the greatest and best stand-up comic ever. This has never been anything close to my ambition; however, in the series we are treated to the mores and standards of the time, are brought up-close and personal with many of the famous performers of the era (some with thinly-veiled name changes), and are handed a delicious tray of some of the greatest comedic characters ever.
We do not like that Midge sleeps with the amoral and oft-times repulsive Lenny Bruce in last year’s series – one of several reasons to downplay that one as the worst – but we (and I mean everyone) loves the character of Suzy, a dyke-ish woman in her thirties from the wrong side of the New York tracks who happens to be able to play piano and, somehow, can quote the classics. She is Midge’s agent, and at some point, a mob hit is put out on her for something I forget – maybe muscling in on someone’s territory – but she is able to make “friends” with the two hit-men, who then work a deal for her with their boss. She will not be killed, but she will from then on be owned by the mob and have to pay them a percentage of her client’s take.
This is not that important for most of this and last year’s series, when it first occurred, but in the latest episodes, it suddenly becomes a central issue. Mrs. Maisel’s Ex – the man who caused the divorce by his philandering – still loves Midge. When he finds out about the mob connection to Suzy, he offers his own nightclub to the mob as long as they never touch Midge. They agree. Years later, the FBI discovers his workings with the mob, and he is arrested during a service at a synagogue which he is attending with Midge and family (kids, in-laws, parents). Just before he is cuffed and dragged off by the G-men, he hands Midge a piece of paper describing Susy’s involvement and his own sacrifice. He gets several years in the pen, where Midge shows her loyalty and gratitude by visiting him weekly. But she learns to hate Suzy.
Thus, we are left with this background as we pass further into the latest episode. It is many years later, 1991 I believe, and Suzy and Midge have both become enormously rich and successful. We are taken to a scene where Suzy is being roasted by the infamous Friar’s Club as it used to be, without ANY censorship or restraint. The guys speaking of her at the podium are remakes of the famous in real life. They are unbelievably witty, at complete ease, and downright scary with their aggressive jokes. As they talk of Suzy, we are treated to brief takes from their heavy-drinking party that is held afterwards, in between speakers at the roast. In the after-party, they tell us all the rumors of what Suzy really, really did to earn her success. Her shear gall in pursuit of her goal is both comic and frightening, as are the famous who talk of her, who are so privileged and confident in themselves that we know that they would eat us alive, commoners as we are, were we ever to attempt to join them. These guys are performers and producers and handlers of the rich and famous who have, just like Suzy, done everything and done everything to everyone to get to the top. They are bright, talented, tough, and ready to crush whatever gets in their way.
So it goes at the roast and the in-between scenarios until we come to the surprise finale to the roast: Midge joins the roast on a Skype screen projection (I know –did they have that in 1991? Something might be off here, either my remembrance of the date or their grasp of tech history, but it is not important to the overall story). Here she tells them all that yes, she and Suzy have had their arguments, and, yes, the last was a doozy, but she is ever grateful for how Susy has made her a star. More than that, she tells all with full sincerity that she is most grateful for her friendship and would like to get together to mend their differences. Here, the hard-bitten Suzy tears up ever-so-slightly, and mumbles quietly to her aide to “make that meeting happen.” We are touched.
We are touched even more – to the point of transcendence, really – when they play Love Song by Lesley Duncan (1970), the superb version performed with Elton John way back when, as the action winds down and the credits play. Here the story leaves us with this dichotomy: the arrogance and bluster of hard-boiled, ruthless people who make it to the top juxtaposed with the deep, unsatisfied and never-ending need by these same people for personal friendship, connection, and love. One, we understand, destroys the other. As this sinks in, Love Song, essentially played on two chords with a single arpeggio (musician talk for a repetition of pattern, or pick on guitar), lulls us into its lyrics:
You say it’s very hard/ to leave behind the life we knew.
But there’s no other way/ and now it’s really up to you…
Love is the key we must turn
Truth is the flame we must burn
Freedom the lesson we must learn.
Do you know what I mean?
Have your eyes really seen?
With the music, we witness a beautiful thing. We come to know for certain that all these successful people – many of whom would be dead now if they were real – are missing this big chunk in their lives because they have mistaken success for personal fulfillment. They seem enviable with their wealth and fame, but without that chunk, most if not all are far poorer than the rest of us, although we could all do better. In the song we hear waves and rain and seagulls and we understand that every element of social status will someday pass. As it leaves us, we realize that our loves, our friendships, and all those beautiful simple times with nature and companions will be what we miss most.
Yes, we have all heard this again and again over the years, but do we really believe it? In this series, written by and about those in relentless pursuit of success, this truth is illustrated so perfectly; this truth that we were meant for so much more than our ambitions, even as this ‘more’ is so much less.
Love is what we came here for
No one could offer you more
Do you know what I mean?
Have your eyes really seen?
There is an excellent series we are watching that is coming to a conclusion after 6 years, including the two years off for Covid: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. If you have not seen it and have a tolerance for rude language and jokes, go for it. With the exception of last year’s season, which was only OK, the writing and acting are almost beyond belief. We are taken on a ride with Mrs. Maisel – Midge – through the late 1950's and early 1960’s as she gets married, has two kids, does the household routine of an upper-middle class New Yorker of that era , gets divorced, and then relentlessly pursues her life-long ambition of becoming the greatest and best stand-up comic ever. This has never been anything close to my ambition; however, in the series we are treated to the mores and standards of the time, are brought up-close and personal with many of the famous performers of the era (some with thinly-veiled name changes), and are handed a delicious tray of some of the greatest comedic characters ever.
We do not like that Midge sleeps with the amoral and oft-times repulsive Lenny Bruce in last year’s series – one of several reasons to downplay that one as the worst – but we (and I mean everyone) loves the character of Suzy, a dyke-ish woman in her thirties from the wrong side of the New York tracks who happens to be able to play piano and, somehow, can quote the classics. She is Midge’s agent, and at some point, a mob hit is put out on her for something I forget – maybe muscling in on someone’s territory – but she is able to make “friends” with the two hit-men, who then work a deal for her with their boss. She will not be killed, but she will from then on be owned by the mob and have to pay them a percentage of her client’s take.
This is not that important for most of this and last year’s series, when it first occurred, but in the latest episodes, it suddenly becomes a central issue. Mrs. Maisel’s Ex – the man who caused the divorce by his philandering – still loves Midge. When he finds out about the mob connection to Suzy, he offers his own nightclub to the mob as long as they never touch Midge. They agree. Years later, the FBI discovers his workings with the mob, and he is arrested during a service at a synagogue which he is attending with Midge and family (kids, in-laws, parents). Just before he is cuffed and dragged off by the G-men, he hands Midge a piece of paper describing Susy’s involvement and his own sacrifice. He gets several years in the pen, where Midge shows her loyalty and gratitude by visiting him weekly. But she learns to hate Suzy.
Thus, we are left with this background as we pass further into the latest episode. It is many years later, 1991 I believe, and Suzy and Midge have both become enormously rich and successful. We are taken to a scene where Suzy is being roasted by the infamous Friar’s Club as it used to be, without ANY censorship or restraint. The guys speaking of her at the podium are remakes of the famous in real life. They are unbelievably witty, at complete ease, and downright scary with their aggressive jokes. As they talk of Suzy, we are treated to brief takes from their heavy-drinking party that is held afterwards, in between speakers at the roast. In the after-party, they tell us all the rumors of what Suzy really, really did to earn her success. Her shear gall in pursuit of her goal is both comic and frightening, as are the famous who talk of her, who are so privileged and confident in themselves that we know that they would eat us alive, commoners as we are, were we ever to attempt to join them. These guys are performers and producers and handlers of the rich and famous who have, just like Suzy, done everything and done everything to everyone to get to the top. They are bright, talented, tough, and ready to crush whatever gets in their way.
So it goes at the roast and the in-between scenarios until we come to the surprise finale to the roast: Midge joins the roast on a Skype screen projection (I know –did they have that in 1991? Something might be off here, either my remembrance of the date or their grasp of tech history, but it is not important to the overall story). Here she tells them all that yes, she and Suzy have had their arguments, and, yes, the last was a doozy, but she is ever grateful for how Susy has made her a star. More than that, she tells all with full sincerity that she is most grateful for her friendship and would like to get together to mend their differences. Here, the hard-bitten Suzy tears up ever-so-slightly, and mumbles quietly to her aide to “make that meeting happen.” We are touched.
We are touched even more – to the point of transcendence, really – when they play Love Song by Lesley Duncan (1970), the superb version performed with Elton John way back when, as the action winds down and the credits play. Here the story leaves us with this dichotomy: the arrogance and bluster of hard-boiled, ruthless people who make it to the top juxtaposed with the deep, unsatisfied and never-ending need by these same people for personal friendship, connection, and love. One, we understand, destroys the other. As this sinks in, Love Song, essentially played on two chords with a single arpeggio (musician talk for a repetition of pattern, or pick on guitar), lulls us into its lyrics:
You say it’s very hard/ to leave behind the life we knew.
But there’s no other way/ and now it’s really up to you…
Love is the key we must turn
Truth is the flame we must burn
Freedom the lesson we must learn.
Do you know what I mean?
Have your eyes really seen?
With the music, we witness a beautiful thing. We come to know for certain that all these successful people – many of whom would be dead now if they were real – are missing this big chunk in their lives because they have mistaken success for personal fulfillment. They seem enviable with their wealth and fame, but without that chunk, most if not all are far poorer than the rest of us, although we could all do better. In the song we hear waves and rain and seagulls and we understand that every element of social status will someday pass. As it leaves us, we realize that our loves, our friendships, and all those beautiful simple times with nature and companions will be what we miss most.
Yes, we have all heard this again and again over the years, but do we really believe it? In this series, written by and about those in relentless pursuit of success, this truth is illustrated so perfectly; this truth that we were meant for so much more than our ambitions, even as this ‘more’ is so much less.
Love is what we came here for
No one could offer you more
Do you know what I mean?
Have your eyes really seen?
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