Some Things to Love in Season Two of "Divorce":
-Smart graphic design. The NYT has published an entire piece about one critic's fondness for the opening sequence of "The Good Fight." (Understandably. That's a delightful opening sequence.) I'd like to say something similarly breathless about the (quick, plot-less) opening of "Divorce."
All you see is the word "Divorce," in caps. There's a jaunty little tune in the background. The "O" in "Divorce" splits into halves, and the "O" seems to pulse, like a beating heart. The halves pull away from each other, then bounce back inward, then away, then in, then away again. Tension builds. (I'm reminded of the opening of "Six Feet Under," which involved, as far as I recall, two people releasing themselves from a handshake.)
After a moment of the pulsing, all of the color suddenly drains from the frame. The music stops, and on the "button," the final note, a period appears. "DIVORCE" becomes "DIVORCE." .....And the period means everything! It suggests the END: end of marriage, end of opening sequence, end of statement. Delightful. As pithy, in its way, as the opening of "Sex and the City." And even more minimalist.
-Frances's brave battle. The end of the season involves many moments of plausible, interesting small-mindedness. The artist whom Frances has cultivated suddenly commits an act of betrayal--an act that is human and understandable, but still not great. And what's worse: The artist can't acknowledge what she is doing. She pretends the behavior is something that it's not. The lunch-table fight that results is smartly written. Three cheers, also, for Frances's abrupt break-up with Stephen Pasquale. Frances papers over the fact that her marriage ended with her own act of adultery. When she finally 'fesses up, Pasquale--having been betrayed by others--can't really control himself. He calls Frances a trainwreck--unfairly--and it's clear that the response he is having actually has very little to do with Frances. An adult--whom we've liked, in other scenes--is behaving childishly, behaving badly. We wince because we know Stephen Pasquale has a Better Stephen, buried somewhere under this weird anxiety and rashness. Interesting, unusual fare for television.
And then Frances--like the artist, like Pasquale--has an intemperate moment. She cannot let her children go to Italy for the summer with her ex--and how dare he ask! She will be so lonely! In the final minutes of the season, Frances surprises everyone--and surprises herself--by recanting. "Take the kids to Italy," she says, to Robert's voice mail. "Just please don't make it a nonstop gelato tour. Please show them the Titians. And the Caravaggios. And the Duomo in Florence." Frances has been moved and buoyed, throughout life, by visual art--she describes an early trip to a gallery as a moment when "life suddenly made sense"--and now, in her early fifties, she is giving a gift to her kids. Something she herself would have appreciated, years ago.
Frances knows she has done the right thing, and she celebrates by jumping around, crazily, on the oversized trampoline in her backyard. Fade to black. One of the better season finales in recent memory.
-The hair. From the blonde curls of "Ed Wood" to the big voluminous look from SATC to the more restrained, straightened phase we're seeing in "Divorce," SJP's hair tells a story, and it's a story I want to hear. The voluminous hair made a surprise reappearance recently--for a "Sex and the City" throwback ad--and I was so happy to see it. SJP wore a bizarre tutu with a gold top and dramatic makeup, and she used the familiar quippy cadences of an SATC voice-over: "I couldn't help but wonder....isn't it obvious? You do a little thing--and help create a lot of good...." The play on "little, lot": vintage SATC. Carrie Bradshaw, in this moment, is talking about how purchasing a Stella Artois can help bring water to people in Africa. Or something like this. Carrie's heart is, once again, in the right place.
I miss SJP. I'm sad that "Divorce" will get only six more episodes, and it will not return for quite a while. God bless that woman. Bring her back.
-Smart graphic design. The NYT has published an entire piece about one critic's fondness for the opening sequence of "The Good Fight." (Understandably. That's a delightful opening sequence.) I'd like to say something similarly breathless about the (quick, plot-less) opening of "Divorce."
All you see is the word "Divorce," in caps. There's a jaunty little tune in the background. The "O" in "Divorce" splits into halves, and the "O" seems to pulse, like a beating heart. The halves pull away from each other, then bounce back inward, then away, then in, then away again. Tension builds. (I'm reminded of the opening of "Six Feet Under," which involved, as far as I recall, two people releasing themselves from a handshake.)
After a moment of the pulsing, all of the color suddenly drains from the frame. The music stops, and on the "button," the final note, a period appears. "DIVORCE" becomes "DIVORCE." .....And the period means everything! It suggests the END: end of marriage, end of opening sequence, end of statement. Delightful. As pithy, in its way, as the opening of "Sex and the City." And even more minimalist.
-Frances's brave battle. The end of the season involves many moments of plausible, interesting small-mindedness. The artist whom Frances has cultivated suddenly commits an act of betrayal--an act that is human and understandable, but still not great. And what's worse: The artist can't acknowledge what she is doing. She pretends the behavior is something that it's not. The lunch-table fight that results is smartly written. Three cheers, also, for Frances's abrupt break-up with Stephen Pasquale. Frances papers over the fact that her marriage ended with her own act of adultery. When she finally 'fesses up, Pasquale--having been betrayed by others--can't really control himself. He calls Frances a trainwreck--unfairly--and it's clear that the response he is having actually has very little to do with Frances. An adult--whom we've liked, in other scenes--is behaving childishly, behaving badly. We wince because we know Stephen Pasquale has a Better Stephen, buried somewhere under this weird anxiety and rashness. Interesting, unusual fare for television.
And then Frances--like the artist, like Pasquale--has an intemperate moment. She cannot let her children go to Italy for the summer with her ex--and how dare he ask! She will be so lonely! In the final minutes of the season, Frances surprises everyone--and surprises herself--by recanting. "Take the kids to Italy," she says, to Robert's voice mail. "Just please don't make it a nonstop gelato tour. Please show them the Titians. And the Caravaggios. And the Duomo in Florence." Frances has been moved and buoyed, throughout life, by visual art--she describes an early trip to a gallery as a moment when "life suddenly made sense"--and now, in her early fifties, she is giving a gift to her kids. Something she herself would have appreciated, years ago.
Frances knows she has done the right thing, and she celebrates by jumping around, crazily, on the oversized trampoline in her backyard. Fade to black. One of the better season finales in recent memory.
-The hair. From the blonde curls of "Ed Wood" to the big voluminous look from SATC to the more restrained, straightened phase we're seeing in "Divorce," SJP's hair tells a story, and it's a story I want to hear. The voluminous hair made a surprise reappearance recently--for a "Sex and the City" throwback ad--and I was so happy to see it. SJP wore a bizarre tutu with a gold top and dramatic makeup, and she used the familiar quippy cadences of an SATC voice-over: "I couldn't help but wonder....isn't it obvious? You do a little thing--and help create a lot of good...." The play on "little, lot": vintage SATC. Carrie Bradshaw, in this moment, is talking about how purchasing a Stella Artois can help bring water to people in Africa. Or something like this. Carrie's heart is, once again, in the right place.
I miss SJP. I'm sad that "Divorce" will get only six more episodes, and it will not return for quite a while. God bless that woman. Bring her back.
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