cleo57

I think this show is flirting with Poe's Law when it comes to its romantic comedy elements. It borrows from them so heavily that sometimes it's indistinguishable from the thing it's trying to subvert. Is the show a coming of age tale? Sure. Rebecca is a whip smart young woman who clings to adolescent fantasies and needs to learn that happiness doesn't always come in the form of romance. That kind of sounds like the log line of a treacly young adult novel, but add clinical depression and a few terrible life choices to the mix and maybe it becomes something dark and subversive. But this coming of age narrative is refracted through musical theater and romantic comedy cliches. And the show borrows liberally. Greg runs to the courthouse to declare his feelings. Rebecca and Josh have a semi-romantic fireside moment. Greg and Rebecca kiss in an almost direct recreation of a famous Ross and Rachel scene. Etc. These are scenes that could fit comfortably in a standard romantic comedy, and whatever element of subversiveness they have is somewhat undermined by their adherence to the genre. Sure, on a macro level it's, ahem, a little more nuanced than that. The fireside moment is the result of thousands of dollars and plenty of scheming, and her big kiss with Greg happened right after the dream ghost told her to forget about the guys. But on a micro level, it's hard not to react to these scenes like you would when watching a regular romcom. I think part of the disconnect is that the show isn't subversive in the way we've come to expect. It doesn't flout our expectations by taking well-worn tropes and flipping them on their heads. It takes these tropes at face value and then asks: what could motivate a person to act like this in real life? Why would the funny bff be over-invested in their friend's love life? Maybe she's a lonely middle aged woman with a failing marriage and an insatiable need to live out her own unfulfilled dreams via an unsuspecting friend. Why would a smart, professional woman move across the country for a boy she hardly knows? Maybe she's clinically depressed, desperately unhappy, and looking for some small sliver of hope to latch onto. Why is the sarcastic bartender who eventually gets the girl so sarcastic? Maybe he's an almost-alcoholic with a sick dad and a terminal aversion to emotions. Whatever subversiveness this show has comes from deepening pre-established tropes, from coloring in threadbare character types with psychological nuance and emotional authenticity. Add to this the fact that the show looks like a low budget Meg Ryan movie and I'm not surprised that people are semi-invested in the romantic pairings. Compare it to a show like Girls. Girls is also a coming of age story about a 20 something woman searching for happiness. Her romantic relationships are also lenses through which to gauge her personal development. But it looks and feels like an indie dramedy, and it largely eschews the romcom beats so prevalent in Crazy Ex Girlfriend. As a viewer, it's easy to maintain distance from the romances on Girls, because they zig and zag in a way that undermines my fundamental desire, as a human and a girl, to watch people on my TV set kiss. Is Crazy Ex Girlfriend a coming of age story? I hope so! I would be very happy to watch that show! I'm just not quite sure that it is that show. Not yet, at least.

I found this episode emotionally exhausting. I watched this finale and the Better Call Saul finale on Monday night, and if you'd asked me beforehand which I expected to find more draining, I'd have said the latter for sure. Nope. So kudos to Rachel Bloom and company, I guess, for making their tricky little romcom into an exhausting television event. Sometimes you don't know what you want until confronted with all the things you don't. Rebecca having sex with her childhood boyfriend atop a magic carpet while Lea Salonga sings in the background is apparently all the things I didn't want. I watched that entire sequence with mounting horror; I didn't really think Rebecca's vague, post-dream ghost attempts at emotional health would stick, but watching her retreat so fully back into fantasyland, eyes wide and full of febrile hope, certain for the umpteenth time that Josh Chan was the answer to all her problems…well, it was a punch to the gut. And Josh's expression in that final moment when he finally realizes that no, Rebecca isn't the cool, chill, anti-Valencia, was the perfect way to deflate the moment. I appreciated it on a narrative level. Obsessions like Rebecca's wax and wane, and her night of disappointment with Greg was reason enough to slide back into princess mode. But it left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I can't help but wish that this show, which is about people trying and failing but most importantly trying to be happy, hadn't ended on such a caustic note. And speaking of characters failing at happiness, Greg. Rebecca really wasn't asking for much during their final scene. Just the simplest admission of affection would've probably done the trick. He was right to think that Rebecca wasn't over Josh (though his behavior turned this into a self-fulfilling prophecy). But it was Rebecca and Greg's final scene that was tinged with real emotion, filled with the romance of what could have been. Despite the fact that he was operating at peak garbagery during this episode, I can't help but root for them a little bit. He's terrible, and she's terrible, and their terribleness doesn't really fit. His self-loathing ends with him vomiting his feelings into a bucket, and her self-loathing ends with her backsliding into the worst kind of childhood fantasies. But I do kind of hope those two self sabotaging trash heaps get their shit together. Eventually, someday, in the far distant future. Eh. Maybe I'm a romantic.

I don't really understand what they're doing with Greg either. If they were trying to lampshade the ridiculous romcom trope of rushing off to confess love, they didn't lampshade it enough. As you say, it was a moment of him realizing something he already knew. This does not make for a very narratively exciting realization, and it does not have any bearing on Rebecca's feelings. What did he expect to happen? That if he confesses his feelings more ardently that she'll come around? Greg obviously has not read Pride and Prejudice, because if he had he'd know that you have to let the lady's feelings change first before you make your superior second proposal. Something I wish more shows/movies did subvert when it comes to the final act feelings realization is that those sorts of realizations often have short life spans. Sure, Greg might have been overcome by feelings as he watched Rebecca lose valiantly. But would that surge of feelings have lasted the two hour drive in traffic to LA? Nah. Greg has been presented as being pretty smart. By the time he got there he would've logically remembered that she was making out with Trent the last time he saw her, that she almost certainly has a crush on Josh, and that his feelings do not affect hers. He would have realized he was on a fool's errand. Rather than seeing him arrive at exactly the right moment, I honestly would have preferred a shot of him sitting in his car, stranded in LA traffic, glumly realizing that his grand moment of self discovery basically amounts to nothing. Sometimes I think Greg's purpose on the show is to be the only character with full view of the metanarrative. He's privy to all of it: Rebecca's schemes, her love of Josh, her intelligence. He knows that Josh's cheerful passivity makes him easy prey, and he knows that Rebecca and Josh would likely be doomed if they ever got together for real. But he can't do anything about it and it's driving him crazy. He's the straight man with full view of the chaos and no ability to intervene. I'm not actually sure that's the story the show is trying to tell. But it's the most sense I can make of his story so far? I do think they've kind of made a muddle of his characterization in the episodes after the holiday hiatus. I also think the OMWF kiss is a great comparison! It was the same combination of rousing emotional moment buoyed by background music and oh no this is a terrible idea. And I also hope the show follows through on the oh no this is a terrible idea aspect of the kiss. I don't mind messy romantic relationships on TV, but I don't really want to watch a show that asks me to actively root for a stalker to end up with her stalkee. Some of the Josh and Rebecca scenes in the past few episodes have been sweet and earnest in a pretty uncomplicated way. (For example: the West Covina reprise on the bus and the campfire scene.) I prefer it when their scenes have that undercurrent of wrongness, so I liked that their kiss was punctured by his horrified expression. But I also agree that Rebecca and Josh are not dynamic enough, especially when the show tries to play their relationship as sweet.

I'm still enjoying this show a lot. Unlike other people in this thread, I don't feel like it's suffered any great lapse in quality or that it's too tonally jarring. Having said that, I thought this episode was only okay. And when episodes of this show only ascend to the level of "okay," it reminds me that I don't actually like its fundamental conceit. I like the songs, the barely contained sadness, the funny tag scenes, the incisize portrayal of mental illness, the high energy performances. I like the vibe of it all, the brightly colored camp coating a deeply felt emotional core. But I don't actually like the part where the show is about a girl who moved across the country to stalk a boy she barely knows. I know it's a feminist deconstruction of the trope, but I'm not sure every trope needs to be subverted. Some tropes should just be allowed to die. When this show is at its best, I forget about the fact that I'm not actually very interested in Rebecca's pursuit of Josh. I enjoy aspects of this pursuit. I like her as the chaotic agent of change, blowing into a world of strip malls and pretzel stands and forcing everyone to confront the lies they've been telling themselves. But then there are the countless scenes of Rebecca, ball of manic energy, lying to Josh, endlessly forgiving dimwit. I've had enough of them, honestly. I loved the textmergency episode, and that felt like the apex of that particular comedic narrative. Rebecca piled lies on top of lies until even Josh knew something was wrong. His ability to turn a blind eye to her brand of crazy snapped, and there should have been consequences. But here we are again, after what felt like a moment of actual catharsis, back to law offices turned into NASA control rooms and Paula's ridiculous schemes. They pushed the reset button a little too hard. I really do feel like this show is doing a pretty good job balacing all of its parts. But it's perpetually tap dancing along the catastrophe curve, where one wrong step could render it unwatchable. It's as though the writers set themselves the task of writing a romcom with the highest degree of difficulty. What if we took an inherently anti-feminist plot and made it feminist? What if we wrote a love triangle where none of the parties are in any way compatible? What if our heroine pivoted between Looney Tunes and accurate portrayal of depressione every 5 minutes? Etc. It's comendable that they're succeeding thus far, but there's a reason that other high concept sitcoms often abandon their concept after a few episodes (for example, Cougar Town). A lot of the time, a wacky premise becomes too much of a constraint. And if the writers are really committed to Rebecca's love for Josh, if they really believe that it could span seasons without becoming a millstone around the show's neck - well. Maybe they're just more creative than I am. The thing about Walter White is that the writers were able to balance the cathartic excitement of him defeating his enemies with the emotional toll it took on his family and loved ones. He became a villain very early on in the show's run, but there was still visceral pleasure to be had when he outschemed an evil drug dealer. Walt's antagonists were usually bad enough that his victories were enjoyable. And every time we the audience thrilled at Walt's latest scheme, we became a little bit complicit in his moral trajectory. But Skyler and Walt Jr. and Jesse were always there to remind us of the damage Walt caused; they forced us to recontextualize his 'awesome' moments. Their pain made every cool sciencey thing he did a little less cool. With Rebecca, the cathartic excitement and the pain is all pointing in one direction: Josh. I can't get invested in her pursuit of him, because she's willfully lying to him at every turn. I can't get excited because of the potential pain she's causing him, and he's just too dumb and naive to push back against her manipulations. He's not an evil drug dealer. He's just a nice, sweet bro who should find a nice, sweet lady to settle down with. I mostly just want Rebecca to leave him alone.

"Settle for Me" is definitely my favorite. That number sold me on the show, honestly. I can't help but love a show that does a black and white Fred and Ginger pastiche. But in general, I prefer the songs that feel like they have a real narrative reason for existing. The ones ones where emotions are so overpowering that breaking out into song becomes the only appropriate means of expression. "West Covina" (both times it's sung in the pilot) is still maybe the gold standard for this. The first time it's sung it's the cheerful ditty of a girl on the verge of a nervous breakdown, willing away the ridiculousness of her random life decisions through a brightly colored musical number. The second time it's sung it's the half-terrified ballad of a girl who realizes she's had a nervous breakdown and is now stuck with her decision (but also she's made a friend! A real human connection! Maybe it wasn't such a terrible decision after all! etc). I think it's harder for the purely comic songs to tap into the character's psyche quite as well. "Feeling Kinda Naughty" does it well, I think. "I Have Friends" and "I'm a Good Person" are both charged with Rebecca's particular brand of anxiety. But I've enjoyed almost all of the songs, to be honest. The only one that I didn't really like was the yoga song.

This show is just such a delight. This episode felt sort of messy and haphazard, but it still made me so happy (in a candy with a soul crushing center kinda way). Rebecca's relationship with her mom was probably the highlight. The bathroom song was a fabulous entrance, and might be one of the most impressive musical numbers from a writing perspective. Though not as rewatchable, perhaps, as the songs that aren't trying to give the viewers anxiety attacks. Greg's storyline felt kind of like a first draft to me. The insertion of Heather was charming but too sitcomy, and the resolution came too easily. You don't stay that bitter for that long only to have your worldview rocked because a 15 year old tells you you're acting like a douche. They were trying to accomplish too much too quickly, and it didn't quite hit its marks. It did give us a fair amount of insight into Greg, however, who is so much better realized than Josh that it's almost unfair. The episode never directly paralleled Becca and Greg's parental woes, but I think there are some comparisons that can be drawn. Greg actually has the family life that Becca so desperately craves, but is too invested in his own bitterness to realize it. Becca has an abusive mom, and she deals with it by retreating into childlike fantasies and making life-altering, nostalgia fueled decisions. Greg has to shed some of his bitterness and Becca has to get over her fantasies before either of them can be viable romantic partners for anyone. I thought Greg and Heather were surprisingly fun, though I'm not sure I can see them as a long term thing. Her detached deadpan does puncture his ~I'm the smartest loser in the room, ask me about labor reform in the 19th century~ vibe, and they're cute. So maybe that's enough for now. I don't get too much enjoyment out of Josh and Becca, unfortunately, because he just feels too much like an affable cipher to me. I know that's the point, but I don't find it to be a super fun viewing experience. But Pleasant Bro is a trope I've seen done well on other shows, and I think there's potential there. If they could get him 70% of the way to Andy Dwyer territory I'd be satisfied, personally. I also really enjoyed British Paula. The actress is always great, but sometimes Paula terrifies me in a way I'm not sure is narratively sustainable. I get that she is the dark deconstruction of the romcom bff; she doles out terrible advice and uses Becca as a conduit for her own dashed dreams. But like, sometimes she is terrifying to me. Am I supposed to root for the continued existence of their friendship? Because sometimes I do not.