Enormous critical acclaim is nice, I’m sure. It is, after all, what television writers and actors aspire to. But there’s also a joy in being a sleeper hit; a cult show that cruises under the radar but develops an obsessed following. Less glamorous, though, is programming that achieves middling commendations, medium admiration. Prime Video’s The Marvelous Mrs Maisel is in this latter category: good reviews, a smattering of Emmys, and decent audiences on Amazon’s streaming service can’t hide the fact that Amy Sherman Palladino’s late-1950s comedy-drama has always been a touch unloved. As the curtain comes down with its fifth and final series, is it time to reappraise one of the warmest, wittiest shows of recent years?
Sailor-mouthed comedienne Midge (Rachel Brosnahan) is back, dealing with the fallout of her fling with fellow stand-up Lenny Bruce (Luke Kirby). But more than anything, she’s single-minded in her pursuit of a final big break. “I’m not gonna blow it,” she tells Lenny, after she’s offered a job in the writing room of Gordon Ford (Reid Scott). “I’m gonna hold you to that,” he replies. Meanwhile, the management empire of Alex Borstein’s Susie is expanding, Tony Shalhoub and Marin Hinkle – aka Abe (“big old sad floppy clown boy”) and Rose – are facing a string of Job-like misfortunes, and Michael Zegen’s Joel is, once again, having woman troubles. “Can Jews be monks?” he asks in despair. “Because my f***ing relationship track record!”
Writer-director Sherman-Palladino was responsible for one of the great shows of the 2000s in the form of mother-daughter saga Gilmore Girls. Her idiosyncratic vision of Connecticut dynasties was cut short prematurely, after a network change in 2006 saw Sherman-Palladino ousted. But The Marvelous Mrs Maisel has been a chance to fulfil the promise of Stars Hollow. The dynastic quibbling, the rapidfire dialogue, the screwball comedy; all are instantly recognisable Sherman-Palladino trademarks. Only this time, the show is allowed to exit the stage, just as it hits its stride. Ultimately, when the yucks are counted and the hat passed round for tips, Mrs Maisel will be seen as a show about reaching for stardom, not achieving it.
Despite earning Brosnahan an Emmy and two Golden Globes (not to be sniffed at), the role of Midge hasn’t catapulted the actor into the echelons of Hollywood’s A-listers. That’s somewhat mysterious given how naturally charismatic her performance is. The character is aided by a script that venerates her. Sure, she’s capable of bad decisions, but always with a spark of genius, a nugget of emotional honesty. That caring nature might be tested in scenes that flash-forward to 1981, where Miriam’s daughter Esther (now grown-up and played by Alexandra Socha) is in therapy. “Not everything in the world,” she rages, “revolves around my mother!"
It might well be time to give Sherman-Palladino, and her marvellous Maisels, their dues. The show has been hamstrung at times by its rather twee and girlish name (and a typeface that looks better suited to a pink pencil case at Poundland) but in setting and subject, it resembles its Manhattan forebear, Mad Men. The reason why Matthew Weiner’s look at the Kennedy years (and beyond) has cemented its status as High Art, while Maisel has been seen as disposable fodder, might be found in its rags-to-riches depiction of the American dream. Maisel, on the other hand, is more of a riches-to-riches spin on that foundational mythology, which, if less gritty, is probably a more realistic look at modern American social mobility.
Superbly acted, beautifully designed, and lavishly mounted on a vast, Amazon-funded, canvas, The Marvelous Mrs Maisel deserves more love from TV viewers. This final series may prove more divisive amongst devotees – the prolepsis, which opens episodes, is not entirely successful – but the accomplishment over these five series still stands. Even if it takes binge watchers on streaming to help it one day reach its full potential, the show has earned the right to go out with a standing ovation – which, in Midge’s own words, means that everyone goes home pregnant.
