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.
