‘Mrs. Maisel’ is a rebellious antidote to patriarchy
It’s hard to take your eyes off of Midge Maisel when she takes the stage.
Whether it’s at a café in New York’s Greenwich Village or in front of a judge or at her own wedding, the lead of Amazon’s new The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (streaming Wednesday, is a commanding presence, a force who can be as overwhelming as she is funny. She speaks quickly and with purpose, she’s effortlessly funny, and her infectious enthusiasm radiates off the screen like the bold jewel tones she wears. She is the heroine you’d expect in a series about a 1950s housewife-turned-standup-comedian by Amy Sherman-Palladino, the creator of Gilmore Girls.
Mrs. Maisel, played with brassy aplomb by Rachel Brosnahan, might not be the second coming of Lorelai Gilmore, but she is perhaps akin to a lewd great aunt. Wealthy and opinionated, Midge tries and fails to fit into the life laid out for her and so crafts a life of her own.
Midge is at first content with the life her parents (Tony Shalhoub and Marin Hinkle) scripted for her: making brisket, securing the rabbi as a guest for Yom Kippur, even taking off and putting on her makeup while her husband, Joel (Michael Zegen), sleeps. The mother of two also heartily supports Joel’s amateur attempts at comedy.
Joel, however, is a hack who is so insecure that after bombing onstage he admits infidelity and leaves Midge. She drunkenly returns to the bar where he performed and finds herself talking onstage about her husband, and she’s pretty good at stringing together jokes. Her filterless, hilarious rants pique the interest of fledgling talent manager Susie Myerson (Alex Borstein of MadTV). Eventually, the pair start work on Midge’s stand-up career. Maisel stumbles slightly in its second episode, which feels like an alternate pilot. However, once things kick off in Episode 3, the series and its sterling cast shine. Brosnahan is magnetic in a role diametrically opposed to the quiet types she has played in House of Cards and Manhattan. Her performance makes the series work, and she rattles off twisty dialogue with ease. Shalhoub, Hinkle and Borstein are all exceedingly well-cast.
Rather than being nostalgic for the ’50s, Mrs. Maisel pokes at the past, its flagrant feminism ever-present, ever questioning. The series makes parallels between the way Midge performed wifely duties and motherhood and her newfound natural ease onstage. Her standup is an act of rebellion, a profanitylaced defiance of sexism. While her jokes may seem tame by today’s standards, Midge’s daring is made clear when she’s arrested for indecent behavior.
Maisel stays grounded in Midge’s specific (privileged) experience. Like its protagonist’s comedy, the series thrives on the personal, turning one woman’s journey into a story that feels particularly apt as women today are speaking up about harassment and abuse.
Midge may have stumbled into comedy, but it’s just marvelous that she ended up there.