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Tag: Alex Borstein

  • Luke Kirby Felt “Destined” to End Lenny Bruce That Way on ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’

    Luke Kirby Felt “Destined” to End Lenny Bruce That Way on ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’

    This post contains spoilers for The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’s series finale. 

    The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’s Lenny Bruce has always been dreamy. Sprinkled like pixie dust across 16 episodes of the show’s five seasons, Luke Kirby transformed the real-life comedian into an irresistibly tortured “fairy godmother” of stand-up to Rachel Brosnahan’s Midge. 

    Scenes between the pair, crackling with chemistry, hold that same dreamlike quality—their interactions existing in a bubble outside of reality. But in the series finale, when Susie Myerson (Alex Borstein) encounters a rambling, rumpled Lenny Bruce at a San Francisco comedy club in 1965, that bubble is beyond punctured. And for the first time since playing Bruce, Kirby was meant to bomb. “It was a little alarming to suddenly be met with silence and coughs, but I felt like it was definitely appropriate,” Kirby tells Vanity Fair. “As much fun as it’s been to exhibit this man for all of his charm and magnetism, and for somebody who aligned himself so much with an idea around truth, there is another truth that we had to address.”

    Kirby brings some of Lenny’s disarming mysticism to a Zoom call about the show’s final season. Petting Big Homer, the curly-haired dog that sits atop his lap, the actor apologizes for his “screwy” internet connection and admits he’s still carrying Lenny inside him. “He’s still lingering around, swirling,” Kirby says wistfully. “He’s been such a good friend to me that I don’t really feel like I have to abandon him. It’s sad, scary to say goodbye to something that does feel so destined to be.”

    Destiny is also top of mind in Midge and Lenny’s final scene. Huddled together in the booth of a Chinese restaurant following their snowed-in tryst from the season four finale, she tries to master the art of an indecipherable autograph as he reads her a gushing fortune cookie message. “You mark my words: Very soon, in the not-too-distant future, you will be paying for the Chinese food,” he says with reverent certainty. She’ll go on to perform a star-making set on the fictional Gordon Ford Show, and he’ll succumb further to the personal demons and substance abuse that have slowly begun to bleed into the Maisel universe. 

    Philippe Antonello

    But the series was never going to depict Lenny’s death on screen, cocreators Amy Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino told Vanity Fair. As Kirby says, “They never wanted to veer into anything that could be interpreted as ghoulish or just making a big thing out of something that really maybe wouldn’t feel earned in the context of the show we’ve made,” adding, “I totally appreciated that and agreed with it. But when I saw what they did, I thought it was really quite beautiful. It, to me, closed the ring on the story of Midge and Lenny.”

    That aforementioned Chinese restaurant scene was the last Kirby filmed on the series, and although the day was “really sad,” it also brought joy. “In one of [Lenny’s] last interviews, there was a recording where he was asked: ‘Why do you do it?’ And he said, ‘Because it’s fun.’ The way he says it is so sincere,” Kirby explains. “I tried to abide by that idea on this job.”

    Kirby’s performance on Maisel has earned him an Emmy for guest actor in a comedy series and a seal of approval from Kitty Bruce—Lenny’s daughter, who gets special acknowledgement in the finale’s credits. “When I was starting to do the research, it felt clear to me that he wasn’t pursuing a career that was designed to stir up trouble, or wreak havoc on the zeitgeist,” the actor says. “He was really somebody who wanted to do comedy, but for whatever reason, his way of being was problematic for certain institutions. Those institutions made it their mission to, if not destroy him, certainly hurt his reputation and his livelihood. And he had to meet that face-on.”

    These days, Kirby is reflective about Lenny’s tenderness, as well as his tenacity. “I do keep coming back to a couple things he said around what it is to be a person. He is the man who said, ‘There are never enough I love yous.’ He’s the man who said, ‘I damn the people who would keep the lovers apart,’” Kirby recalls. “For all of his irreverent comedy and stuff he got in trouble for, to me, it feels like it was rooted in a real love for being alive and for people.”

    In Maisel’s fifth and final season, Lenny appears just twice: in the finale and in the premiere, where Midge runs into an especially disheveled-looking version of the comic at JFK. She vows to not “blow it” with her big break. “I’m gonna hold you to that,” Lenny replies. 

    Savannah Walsh

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  • ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’ Earns Its Name in the Series Finale

    ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’ Earns Its Name in the Series Finale

    This post contains spoilers for The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’s series finale. 

    The four words that gave The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel its name weren’t uttered until the final act of the series finale. Bestowed upon Rachel Brosnahan’s Midge Maisel by Gordon Ford (Reid Scott) after a star-making set on his late-night TV show, the moniker became a symbol of an Upper West Side housewife choosing to become something more.

    “Midge bought into an immature fantasy as a young woman, of house and husband and children and postcards and the right bench and temple and the brisket and ‘the rabbi’s coming, the rabbi is coming.’ That was the be-all, end-all for her,” cocreator Amy Sherman-Palladino told Vanity Fair. “And when she discovered this burning ambition in herself, something she didn’t even know was there, she followed it to the very end.”

    Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino, both real-life and creative partners, are well attuned to the power a show’s final season holds. The pair couldn’t end Gilmore Girls, the beloved series they created and shepherded for six seasons before exiting amidst behind-the-scenes drama, on their own terms. (Netflix’s 2016 revival series allowed them something of a do-over.) When I spoke to the pair, Succession had just killed off Logan Roy—though they practically put their fingers in their ears to resist spoilers. The weekly unfurling of Maisel’s final act caused its own brand of stress: “Every week I’ve got to up the Prozac,” Sherman-Palladino said. “Up the dosage, up the dosage, baby.”

    The Palladinos, who spoke to VF prior to the ongoing writers strike, talked about ending Maisel in a tight five—from tackling Lenny Bruce’s death to dreaming up Midge’s star-studded future.

    Vanity Fair: Much of the season is framed with flash-forwards into Midge’s fame and the ramifications it had on her children. How did you pick which snippets we’d see?

    Daniel Palladino: It was an idea that we had flirted with since season two. We tried something too early, so we felt like we should save it for the last season. Picking and choosing them was just really trial and error. We didn’t want to overdo it, except in episode six, “The Testi-Roastial,” where we did flashbacks within flashbacks.

    Amy Sherman-Palladino: We had so much story to get into this season because we needed to wrap everybody up. It really became, what is the big punch? Because you could think of a bunch of funny flash-forwards that would be entertaining to watch—but what is the story punch? That automatically weeded a few things out. And then a couple got weeded out by the fact that we just did not have enough days. We tried to control time, and they wouldn’t let us do that.

    Palladino: In a nine-episode season, we tend to come up with 11 episodes of stuff, and then we try to pound them into [the allotted number] or we start eliminating. It’s inevitable.

    How much of Midge’s future that we don’t see have you filled in for yourselves? I’m assuming you know the identities of all her husbands.

    Sherman-Palladino: We know who the husbands were. 

    Palladino: Approximately. We were strongly implying that Robert Evans was one of her husbands. We implied that Quincy Jones cheated on Peggy Lipton at some point, but it’s fiction—

    Sherman-Palladino: We didn’t say marriage. He didn’t put a ring on it.

    Palladino: One of the things we were flirting with was seeing her with her husband later in life, and that was on the board until the very, very last second.

    Sherman-Palladino: We wanted to show Midge and Joel much later in life—that they both have significant others off in the background, but they were only concerned about each other, and just wanted to hang with each other. They were always going to be this couple, whether or not they were with other people. That was the one sequence we couldn’t figure out how to fit into the schedule. It was just too many days and locations. But we put the picture [of the two of them] in the last episode, and the picture basically did the same thing. The man who’s on her vanity table that she says goodnight to every night is the man that she couldn’t be with. So sometimes, those things become happy accidents.

    Savannah Walsh

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  • In the Penultimate Episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, We Learn A Truth Already Well-Known: It Doesn’t Matter How Talented You Are, You Always Need An “In”

    In the Penultimate Episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, We Learn A Truth Already Well-Known: It Doesn’t Matter How Talented You Are, You Always Need An “In”

    As the final season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel comes to a close, all bets are off concerning Miriam’s (Rachel Brosnahan) big break. The one that viewers are made certain to know arrives via the various flash-forwards that occur throughout the season. And yet, the way things are going in the present for “Midge,” it’s difficult to fathom where or when her bona fide stardom might possibly enter into the picture. Sure, she’s managed to secure a writing position (referred to as the “lady writer,” of course) on The Gordon Ford Show, but from that moment onward it feels as though Miriam is destined to stall and languish forever in the writer’s room, her sole purpose to “fulfill a quota.” Worse still, her boss, Gordon Ford (Reid Scott), is hellbent on maintaining a rule about never bringing any of his own writers onto the show as guest comics. Even after his producer, George (Peter Friedman)—the man who came up with the nonsensical rule in the first place—is fired.

    With this in mind as episode eight, “The Princess and the Plea,” begins, Miriam is still unaware after all this time that Susie (Alex Borstein) is well-acquainted with Gordon’s wife, Hedy (Nina Arianda). The nature of their marriage, however, is one of convenience—for both parties involved. With Hedy’s “swings both ways” sexuality and Gordon’s penchant for other women (including Miriam), their “flexible” marriage works best for their needs while also accommodating society’s during that period. As for Hedy, her clout with and influence over Gordon is made evident after she proves her worth yet again by pulling strings to get Princess Margaret (Kate Abbruzzese) on the show. This, in turn, allows Miriam to, once again, prove her own worth by writing the funniest jokes for the princess, a coup that doesn’t go unnoticed by Hedy.

    Sidling up to Miriam at Toots Shor’s after the show to compliment her, Miriam tries to be modest by saying she just came up with the concept, but “the boys helped make it funny.” Oh how internalized misogyny gets the better of many a talented woman. Luckily, Hedy is there to tell Miriam, “Don’t. If the credit’s yours, take it. If it’s not, take it. That’s what the boys do.” Miriam relaxes at the thought of such advice, and the conversation shifts to Miriam’s manager, “Susan.” This, incidentally, being the title of season five’s fourth episode, in which viewers are at last given full confirmation of Susie’s long “hinted at” (a.k.a. overt) sexuality.

    With Susan being the more “femme” version of Susie’s name, it’s clear she was an entirely different person back then—and likely a far less jaded one. Nonetheless, Hedy refers to her as said name when they run into one another. Or rather, Susie runs away from her upon the two locking eyes in the hallway near the elevator of The Gordon Ford Show offices. In effect, she pulls a Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) seeing Steve (David Eigenberg) on the street and running the other way in season two of Sex and the City (in an episode called, naturally, “Ex and the City”).

    Chasing Susie through the just waxed floors of the lobby, Hedy reminds her that she played lacrosse (ultimate “code” back in the day for being a lesbian) and she will catch up. Which, of course, she does—but not until Susie has made her way outside, reminding Hedy that she was on the lacrosse team for all of two hours. She also reminds Hedy that she betrayed her in the worst possible way, making “plans” and “promises” only to end up ghosting her (at least, that’s the assumption). Hedy insists she did nothing wrong, she was twenty-two—“what promises can you make at twenty-two?” As far as Susie was concerned, there were plenty to be made, and kept. And as far as Miriam is concerned, the same goes for Susie, who has promised her repeatedly that her time will come. But it’s simply not, and there are only so many doors that can keep opening to her unless one is broken down entirely.

    Upon speaking with Hedy at the bar, Miriam realizes “Mrs. Gordon Ford” has been the door all along. Shocked at the revelation that Susie withheld this information from her (though it will be far less shocking than unearthing her mob ties, which Joel ends up having to protect Miriam from), she can’t believe Hedy is so out in the open with her fondness for “Susan,” telling her, “Pembroke. Class of ’48. We were roommates” by way of explanation. Miriam, who isn’t exactly blind to Susie’s sexuality, can likely guess that “roommate” is a euphemism as much as a reality. So incensed that Susie would keep this information from her, she ambushes her at Grand Central as she gets off a train from Baltimore.

    Berating Susie for not telling her about her “friendship” with Hedy, Miriam insists, “She has sway with Gordon… She’s our way in. Tell her to tell Gordon to book me.” Susie clams up at the thought, responding, “We don’t need her, okay? I got this… We are making progress.” Miriam snaps back, “Toward what? Another brick wall? …I’ve been a good soldier, I bat a thousand at work every day and he notices. It would make so much sense for him to give me a shot, but he will not be moved. That fucking brick wall keeps hitting us both smack in the face. It’s two steps forward, three steps back, and I’m tired of it.”

    This, obviously, is a sentiment that so many, regardless of what facet of the creative “industry” they’re trying to “penetrate,” can’t help but feel after years of doing just that: trying. Not to mention the years of being told tired platitudes like, “Don’t give up” or, worse still, that they can look back on this part of their lives as some kind of “kooky,” “funky,” “bohemian” phase. As if a true artist can just “turn it off” that way. Miriam certainly can’t, but her light of hope is undeniably dimming as she comes to understand that her talent and passion ultimately mean nothing without the right “in.” The connection that will finally grease the wheels. More to the point, Gordon’s wheels.

    When Susie demands what can be done about all the “fucking men” that run the world, Miriam replies, “You use whatever you can and you stop at nothing.” But Susie would love to stop at “being required to ask Hedy for a favor.” The wound to her pride, her ego, her firm stance on never giving Hedy that kind of satisfaction—it’s all too much for Susie to bear. And yet, for as great as her love for Hedy was, it’s apparent that her love for Miriam is likely greater. So when Miriam adds, “This is not enough, do you understand?” it definitely stings. Even so, she still tries to dissuade Miriam from cracking into showbiz “like this” by coaxing, “Just stop and think, okay? Do you really wanna make it by having me call in a favor to some chick I went to college with?” Miriam affirms, “Yes! Of course! Have you not been listening?” Her answer echoes the “I don’t give a fuck what it looks like” emotions of every person who has managed to break in through blatant nepotism (with Brosnahan herself being Kate Spade’s [RIP] niece). For, long before nepo babies, non-familial connections and networking were what mattered most (perhaps because the entertainment industry was still germinal then, and not enough stars had yet propagated to create generations’ worth of nepo babies).

    Still doing her best to discourage Miriam from taking this approach, Susie asks, “After all the hard work you’ve done? This is how you wanna get your big break?” Without missing a beat, Miriam confirms, “Oh my god, yes! Who cares how it happens?” But Susie keeps trying to paint a picture of how her talent will be questioned and belittled if she does it this way by telling her to imagine herself on a talk show years from now, what it will sound like if she describes how she got her break—“you don’t wanna say you had to call in a favor from your manager.” It’s then that Miriam delivers the clincher: “I’m not going to be on that show if you don’t do this… This is it, Susie. Talk to her. If you don’t, I’ll always know there’s something you could’ve done, and you didn’t.”

    Susie, as aware as anyone else that it’s not what you know, but who you know that will get you far, finally relents. She concedes to herself that Miriam’s patent talent alone isn’t going to be enough to push her to the next level. Thus, with hat (not) in hand, she finds Hedy at the studio and pleas for this favor, the one that she knows she can call in not just because of their once romantic history, but because Hedy does feel remorse deep down for the way she treated Susie.

    After allowing herself to become vulnerable in this manner, complete with literal prostration as a result of being deliberately positioned beneath Hedy at the foot of the stairs while the latter stands on high, Hedy agrees to “nudge” Gordon. Alas, Susie’s erstwhile lover then inquires somewhat knife-diggingly, “This was hard, wasn’t it? What you just did.” Susie makes no reply as she leaves. For maybe what’s just as hard to do is accept the constantly-reiterated notion that pure talent is so rarely a factor in securing one’s success.

    Genna Rivieccio

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