The new run paddles happily round in slowly expanding circles via sojourns to Paris and the Catskills, each of which is a crisp retro paradise. We want her to continue playing gigs in Greenwich Village dive bars, sticking out like an elegantly gloved thumb in her divine frocks and shoes that match her handbag, while New York in 1959 zings around her, all pristine shop fronts and gleaming chequered cabs.īut Sherman-Palladino and her husband/collaborator Daniel Palladino (given the show’s theme of men always being half a step behind, it’s apt that the episodes credited to him aren’t quite as strong) know how to prolong a fantasy. Here is the closest thing this series has to a worry: we don’t really want her to. The triumphant last shot of the debut season told us that Midge has what it takes to make it. We rejoin Midge Maisel ( Rachel Brosnahan) – the just-so Upper West Side housewife who, having found out about her husband shtupping his secretary, has stopped facilitating his failing standup comedy career and started one of her own – as she navigates life as both a divorcee and a semi-professional comic. Former Gilmore Girls showrunner Amy Sherman-Palladino’s ribbon-wrapped gift to the world continues, in its second season, to be a fizz, a snap, a fillip, a dance, a total escape.
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