Overwhelmed by the sheer volume of media options as we emerge from the summer TV drought and dive into pilot season? Don’t sweat it, we’ve got another Bingeworthy Breakdown coming your way. Though there’s lots of exciting new shows cropping up, we’d like to re-recommend a tried and true critical favorite. Amazon rolled out the fourth season of their strongest award-winner “Transparent” earlier this fall. This Jill Soloway creation (don’t worry, she’s not going anywhere) centers on the Pfeffermans, a family of distant Jewish Angelenos whose worlds collide when their former patriarch, Mort, comes out as transgender and begins to live openly as Maura. Last season we saw youngest sibling Ali attempt to date her boss, oldest sibling Sarah get into BDSM, and middle man Josh fall apart following the death of his abusive first love. Meanwhile, Maura made futile steps toward medical transition while his ex-wife Shelly fell in love with a parasitic “Jewish Santa Claus.” Everyone was trying to find God, and everyone had fucked up relationships with consent. In season four, the Pfeffermans are back and more lost than ever — literally, in some cases — as they travel to Israel following a shocking family revelation. Even though season four finds “Transparent” once again on shaky ground despite an astoundingly formidable season three, the show’s team turn perplexing aimlessness into a spellbinding spectacle.
Whew! When you can watch an entire show in two days, but you still have to wait a year for the next season, you kind of forget everything. What’s happened since we last saw “Transparent”?
I know, it’s been a while. Behind the scenes, Gabe Liedman (“Obvious Child”) joined the writing and production teams and penned an episode. Trans writing staff member and cameo pianist Our Lady J also helped produce this latest season. Season four gave three new female directors a chance to helm their own episodes, including cast member Gaby Hoffmann and “Suffragette” helmer Sarah Gavron. The show itself picks up a few months after the end of season three: Ali is reeling from a messy breakup with Leslie “Not Eileen Myles” Mackinaw, Maura has rejoined academia, Shelly has badgered her way into cohabitating with Josh, and Sarah is back with Len. Also the opening credits are shorter.
Wait, Len? Like, Sarah’s ex-husband who was irredeemably terrible in season one?
You betcha. No offense, Rob Huebel.
Are we supposed to like him now?
Like him or not, he sure is there. In all ten episodes.
Hmm. Any other shake-ups to our cast of characters?
Cherry Jones’ Leslie has been written out, with Ali’s arc opening on an administrative investigation into the professor’s sexual misconduct. Love of my (and Josh’s) life Rabbi Racquel (Kathryn Hahn) is gone, perhaps because Hahn threw herself full-tilt into Soloway’s other incredible Amazon project, “I Love Dick.” On the bright side, Alia Shawkat joins the cast this season as Lila, an acquaintance of Len and Sarah to whom Sarah is deeply attracted. They have some great sex scenes. Len is also there.
Don’t tell me…
This season, Sarah tries polyamory.
Oy. Why do all the Pfefferman siblings have such an unhealthy need for sexual approval?
An excellent question, and one that they try to answer in the season’s opening episode by attending a Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meeting. It doesn’t really stick for Sarah — that’s where she reconnects with Lila — but it sends Josh down a fascinating and intense path as he starts to confront his sexually coercive relationship with Rita.
What about Ali?
What indeed! Ali is a pivotal figure in this season’s flashbacks, but she’s practically unreadable in the present storyline. Gaby Hoffmann spends half her screen time this season looking ambiguously off into the middle distance. Flashbacks from episode one coupled with nonbinary-related revelations towards the season’s end indicate that Ali is processing how growing up female — and all the unwanted, at times predatory attention that comes with it — has disconnected her (them?) from herself. But she is uncharacteristically quiet this season, with little emotional payoff.
So how does everyone end up in Israel?
Maura, once again flexing her PhD, is asked to give a talk at a Judaism and Gender conference in Tel Aviv. Desperate to get away from her Leslie demons, Ali tags along. The two enjoy new plots for a few episodes — Maura untangles some family ties and Ali squints her way through the Israeli-Palestinian conflict — while everyone else putters around LA. Once Maura learns a shocking familial secret, however, the rest of the Pfeffermans are conveniently flown in. Everyone is together in the Holy Land by episode six.
It’s a Destination Season.
I know. I don’t like them either. These seasons or storylines yank the cast out of their geographical home base in an attempt to shake things up, but usually it just feels jarring and unfulfilling. Josh, for instance, had some incredible scenes working through his childhood sexual abuse in the first few episodes — but it all gets interrupted halfway through the season.
This show deftly navigates cultural Judaism though, you’d think a move to Israel would only compound that potential.
I know, and it does, but it’s not necessarily enough to sustain the viewer as the season progresses and the characters continue to spin their wheels. God looms heavy over this season, as flashbacks show a young Maura give up her female self in a religious compromise to save Ali’s life. That’s one of the strongest threads in the season, but the Israel plot doesn’t do much to heighten it. There is, however, a great scene where the Pfeffermans float in the Dead Sea together and sing a tune from “Jesus Christ Superstar.”
There are two things “Transparent” always does perfectly: soundtrack and temporality.
Exactly. Those strengths haven’t dwindled this season, and they crescendo into a satisfying finale. It’s just that without them, the present-day plots would barely stay interesting. The whole season reads like a grad school thesis — cerebral and interesting, but convoluted. For example, the show takes on the concept of boundaries, both physical (that which lies between Israel and Palestine) and emotional (the lack of boundaries in Josh and Shelly’s relationship). It’s a brilliant idea, and it’s satisfying to see its thematic threads slowly connect throughout the season, but it’s not well-formed enough to cause any real emotional impact. Even the epically underrated Judith Light can’t fully sell what should be a pivotal scene for Shelly at the end of the season.
You obviously feel ambivalently about the season. So, to binge or not to binge?
I’ll begin by saying that I’m not sure you should binge any season of “Transparent” unless you want to trigger a depressive episode, but it’s obviously compelling television. The show continues to boldly tackle difficult issues and delivers in consistency. It’s a strong show with unparalleled performances, and, like a true Soloway creation, it’s a series unlike any you’ve ever seen before. None of that ceases to be true in season four, but the show’s strengths are underserved. The episodes are riddled with strong and weak writing — it’s awesome to finally see a Davina-centric episode, for instance, but who cares about the Pfefferman’s weird AirBnB tenant? — leading a season four binge to leave you with an overall sense of unrest.
There are plenty of worthwhile points leftover from season four that I’m eager to see elaborated upon in season five, namely Josh’s post-Rita life and Shelly’s burgeoning self-confidence. But Ali’s suddenly serious characterization, coupled with the cop-out family vacation, keep season four from ringing true. Maura’s family intrigue is more disruptive than it is compelling, and new secondary characters introduced this season are barely fleshed out. Sarah continues to be the worst, but at least that’s consistent.
Maybe the show is struggling to find itself, maybe season three was so fantastic that any subsequent season was bound to underperform. Whatever the reason, “Transparent” can do better than this fourth season, and likely will next year. It’s not that season four isn’t worth watching, it’s just that fans are used to a higher standard of show. [B-]