It’s been a tough year for Hannah. After her disheartening experience in Iowa, she returns home to a boyfriend who’s moved on and now, her father comes out of the closet, throwing doubt on her childhood and the one stable relationship in her life, that of her parents. While it’s likely Hannah doth protest too much, her repeated claims that she’s fine and her assertion that her father’s sexuality has nothing to do with her are pleasant surprises. Her therapist (Bob Balaban) was right- Hannah’s handling the changes in her life with shocking maturity.
After the intense and draining “Sit-In”, in “Close-Up”, Girls chooses to continue the narrative not with Hannah, but Adam, following him and Mimi-Rose through their typical morning routine. It’s a good move—viewers already know what Hannah looks like post-breakup, but Mimi-Rose and the person Adam’s become with her are new entities and it’s exciting to see their dynamic explored. As Jessa has said, Adam is lighter here than he has been recently, energetic and optimistic in a way he hasn’t consistently been with Hannah since getting his Broadway break in season three. It’s nice to see, despite how short-lived it is. Gillian Jacobs is a strong addition to the cast as Mimi-Rose, making her entertainingly similar to Hannah in her self-centeredness while diametrically opposed in the way that manifests itself. Mimi-Rose’s revelation that she’s had an abortion without consulting Adam is harsh, making her feel utterly cold and lacking in empathy, but this is countered by her lovely sentiment that she may not need Adam, but she wants him, and to her, that’s far more meaningful. Adam has ricocheted from one end of the spectrum to the other and it will be interesting to see how he handles the emotional whiplash.
In an episode of Community, Britta (played by Gillian Jacobs) once said that an analogy is “a thought with another thought’s hat on.” It may be laboured, clumsy, and teetering on the gobbledygook, but what she said was not altogether incorrect. In fact, that’s pretty much the reason why the scene was funny. Jacob Vaughan’s Bad Milo, in which Jacobs co-stars, deals with a metaphor that, in its execution, feels very much the same way: laboured and ridiculous, but not altogether unfunny.