We open on intertwined feet. NUDITY ON GIRLS! Nope, clothes. Adam and Hannah are goin’ strong. He makes sure she takes her take her OCD pills and checks her tongue. Meanwhile, Marnie, another child, snuggles up in her old Rainbow Brite sheets, remembers she’s sleeping in her mom’s totally uncool apartment, and harumphs. Shoshanna’s slumming it in some dude’s top bunk as his roommate conducts internet research inches below. And Jessa glumly pretends she’ll finish washing a dish before getting real and chucking it into the trash. Let the real losers do it. Loose, muted sweaters and unrelenting half-British condescension at any cost are the new black.
GIRLS. You know you missed it!
Don’t think Adam gets off easy for all that sh*t he pulled with Natalia (Shiri Appleby) at the end of season 2. She’s in Ray’s coffee shop with her feisty blonde sidekick (Amy Schumer) when that “big and tall, dumb slice of dogsh*t” wanders in, having dropped his keys down a subway grate. Is he new here? The world is full of holes, man. Put your keys in a pocket.
Natalia very gently expresses her general discontent with Adam’s continued filthy existence without her. “I just kinda thought you’d come back with an explanation.” Oh hell no. Schumer, you’re up: “Okay, well maybe she has trouble complaining that she was f*cked like a piece of meat and was told she’s all you need. All right, well, guess what? She’s pregnant….How does it feel to abandon your son? Yeah, feel it. It’s yours. It’s f*cking yours.”
There’s no baby. But there could have been. “You could be impregnated by this f*cking donkey, and you’d never know it because he f*cking disappeared.”
Luckily, the revelation that the girl standing next to Adam is the Hannah enables Natalia to reconnect with all the bile inside her (scattered DNA dispatches from Adam, eww). She gives Hannah the ultimate “You are so much less hot than me it shouldn’t even be legal” full-body scan and really lets Adam have it. I feel this deserves a meaty transcript:
“So you know what you have on your hands here, right? You know that you have an off-the-wagon neanderthal sex addict sociopath who’s gonna fuck you like he’s never met you and like he’s never loved his own mother. And then you’re gonna cry, because that’s what you do. Does he like to eat you out from behind? Does he bite your neck? Does he sound like a dying dog when he’s f*cking you and he shoots his cum all over the place like it’s goddamn confetti? F*cking in my hair. I had to get a goddamn blowout after I left your place. I hope you two just enjoy your urine-soaked life f*cking like the two feral animals that you both know you are. You’re gonna end up with a baby that you don’t know how to care for. You’re gonna f*cking kill your kid. You’re gonna give it SPOILED. FORMULA. You’re not gonna get any milk out of those tits. I just hope that you enjoy the f*cking life that you’ve chosen. And we? We’re not paying the check, thanks.”
That is a whole lotta awfulness in one breath. Is it weird that the thing that resonated for me the most is “enjoy your urine-soaked life”? I mean, that baby sh*t is f*cked up beyond belief, but Natalia was upset, and she’s a woman living in the show Girls, so I get it. Spoiled formula. Small tits. She went there. People everywhere are just mean mean mean, at the bitter core. Brutal is this urine-soaked life.
Okay, time for some more real talk, rehab-style. Jessa’s seething with superiority in a support group full of troubled over-sharers. She hides her perfectly shaped mouth under her sweaterblanket and, when finally prompted, admits it’s just so awkward “watching everyone try and get it up for each other.” Well, why doesn’t she share her feelings with the group? Fine: Jessa spouts out a series of lies (that are probably true, especially how she feels so alone and without a life vest). “Is that what you guys want? Because I can do it. I’m really good at it.” Oh, Jessa. The thing is, no one wants you to perform. You are not in demand, not here. Especially if you’re acting. To borrow your own quote: “It’s really exhausting and boring.”
The rehab director sits down with the milky-skinned Best Actress in a Self-Contained Drama Series nominee. (The director, by the way, is Deborah Monk, who’s been in basically everything, but true fans of fine film will best recognize her as Maureen’s overbearing mother from Center Stage.) Jessa barely protests that she’s actually doing really well in rehab. She’s made some really ugly friends and she doesn’t even mind! Wait, why is Jessa in rehab anyway? “I’m only here because it’s what my grandmother would pay for. I give her 60 days, and then she gets me a plane ticket, and rent, and actually there are these boots I want — they’re called Uggs. They’re from Australia.” Ha! Well, now she’s just gone too far. That’s how you know she’s lying: Jessa would never wear tall slippers mass-produced for the lowly proletariat. There’s no reason for her to be here at all.
NEXT: The CUP is chocolate