For more on And Just Like That …, sign up for And Just Like That … Club, our subscriber-exclusive newsletter obsessing over, dissecting, and debating everything about season three.
This week on And Just Like That…, we learn that to be a great writer with real gravitas, you simply have to repeat a sentence three times. You simply have to repeat a sentence three times. You simply have to repeat a sentence three times. Hmm, nope, didn’t work, still aggressively mediocre over here. Thanks for nothing, Care Bear! The big writing magic trick Carrie stumbles upon doesn’t actually work for her, either, but you’d never know it by the way Duncan continues to be gaga for Carrie’s novel about “the woman” and apparently “a man” now, too. Wouldn’t ya know it? This “man” returns to the woman from war but then, in a twist, dies from a wound suffered in a past battle. Do you get it? Anyway, I am still preparing myself emotionally, mentally, and physically for the moment when Carrie Bradshaw’s novel becomes a best seller. God, that’s really going to hurt. That’s really going to hurt. That’s really going to hurt. Nope, still not working!
All of this is to say that after the highly anticipated, much appreciated Aidan Exodus, Carrie has never been more productive with her writing. She is churning those pages out, and Duncan is eating them up. He can’t get enough. He is enamored with Carrie’s writing and Carrie the writer; this is what intrigues her writing buddy and endears her to him. As she tells Seema, men typically see her first as sexy or cute and that’s why they’re interested in her. Duncan is interested in her brain. “He sees me,” Carrie says. “He sees my me-ness.” That’s a perfect setup for Seema to respond that Duncan sees Carrie’s me-ness and Carrie sees Duncan’s penis, but she doesn’t take it. I know with all my heart Samantha Jones would’ve been all over that. Samantha never left a penis hanging.
While Carrie is obviously into Duncan and their refreshing dynamic, she keeps hesitating to just go for it. She hesitates when he uses one of her Jimmy Choos — yes, Duncan gets a tour of Carrie’s closet, which is some real foreplay, if you ask me — to invite her to a party his publisher is throwing, but she eventually says “yes.” Carrie hesitates to wear the Vivienne Westwood dress to said party because she’s scared it will reveal her feelings, but then she turns around and changes into it before heading out. She hesitates when, after the party, Duncan invites her over for a not-writing session, but then she races down her steps and runs into his arms for a kiss that leads to what seems like some satisfying post-breakup sex. As Charlotte tells her friend earlier in the episode, it’s up to Carrie to decide how far she wants to take things with Duncan and she shouldn’t worry about what other people — like Miranda or Aidan — may have to say about it. She is so worried about people telling her “I told you so” that she won’t go after what she wants. It feels very un-Carrie-like. The other part of this whole storyline that feels out of character is how moved Carrie is when Duncan informs her that she is a writer, as if she had been waiting for someone to tell her so she could believe it. One moment, she can tease Duncan for having written more books than he but then has zero confidence the next? Let’s hold out hope, now that we’re moving on from Aidan and, to an extent, Big, dragging Carrie down, she can let loose a little more. The way things play out with Duncan points in that direction: They admire each other deeply, are obviously attracted to one another, but understand this isn’t some long-term love affair. Duncan is headed back to London, but he tells Carrie how grateful he is for their time together, for introducing him to “the woman” and for “giving him a lifeline,” even if she did make him miss his deadline. Even Carrie is like, Whoa, whoa, let’s cool it with the cheesy sentimentality, and that, my friends, is growth.
Hanging out over at Miranda’s place, a couple of other characters could use a similar kick forward in their lives. Steve is back! Sure, he enters the room like someone impersonating Steve from Sex and the City, but still it’s nice to see him. Brady is there too, to pull the classic “soften the blow” good news/bad news switcheroo on his parents: He has decided to go to culinary school … and his drunk hookup, Mia (Ella Stiller), is pregnant with his baby. He doesn’t know her last name, but he does know she’s pretty far along, is keeping the baby, and doesn’t really want Brady involved. Steve is enraged. He wasn’t even this mad when Miranda left him! The show is trying to tie this news to what went down with Miranda and Steve when she got pregnant, but, like, let’s get a grip, dude. It’s not ideal, but it’s not the end of the world. There’s so much yelling and threatening of bodily harm going on here.
Aside from the immediate slut shaming, I’d say Miranda has the appropriate level of response — shocked and disappointed, mostly — but she winds up going off the rails over the situation too. She decides to visit Mia, a part-time shampoo girl at a hair salon, at her place of business and not reveal who she is. Instead, she requests her services (yes, everyone is confused that a part-time shampoo girl was recommended specifically to Miranda) and then starts asking her invasive questions about her pregnancy, including if she got a paternity test. The jig is up pretty quickly, and when Mia finds out who Miranda is, she sprays her with the hose at the shampoo sink, and I do not blame her one bit. Don’t get me wrong, Mia seems horrible — she chugs Red Bull, farts with abandon, and decided against an abortion because she realized the baby would be a double Libra and that’s “such a vibe” — but still, there are about one thousand better ways Miranda could have gone about talking to her. Miranda deserves the hose! Cool her off a little bit.
Meanwhile, Seema’s dealing with a different type of mommy issue this week. She finally gets a look at Adam’s apartment, and it is gorgeous. It turns out this rent-controlled, artist-subsidized housing is where Adam grew up with his pottery-goddess mother. She died of breast cancer when he was 20, but he’s a big mama’s boy. He shows Seema a sprawling pothos plant on his windowsill and explains that this was an almost-dead plant he gave his mother when he was 7 and she brought it back to life with her grit, love, and determination. To him, this plant is his mother. But in a sweet way, not a creepy way.
Well, wouldn’t you know, Seema has a late-night cigarette break and in an apartment full of windows decides to open the one closest to the Mother Plant. Then, for no reason at all, she sort of stumbles standing up and knocks the plant out the window. Seema tells Adam she killed his mother and then stops returning his calls, assuming he must hate her and will want to break up. But again, Adam saw the plant as his mother in a sweet way, not in a “that plant is actually my mother” way, and he shows up at her office with a whole bunch of pots full of pothos he propagated from what he could salvage from the knocked-over plant. Seema wants to automatically assume this relationship won’t work out because, for her, they never seem to; she wants to bail before someone bails on her, but Adam is different and he isn’t letting her off the hook so easily. It’s nice! I mean, it’ll probably end in disaster, such is the way of this series, but for now, it’s nice!
This and That
• There’s nothing like catching your creepy Geppetto-ass roommate jerking it to the wooden puppet he built with your face on it to scare you into taking your romantic relationship to the next level. Yes, this is the reason Giuseppe finally agrees to move in with Anthony. A sweeter love story has never been told!
• Sometimes I roll my eyes typing out some of these storylines — ahem, Charlotte has a psychic-energy Zoom that keeps getting rescheduled. (She’s doing unnecessary renovations in her apartment and Rock has taken up tap dancing, among other noisy things.) Ultimately, Charlotte spills to her psychic or meditation guide, whatever we’re calling Susie Essman’s character, that she is still holding on to a lot of fear and stress tied to Harry’s illness.
• Rock was cast as the lead in their school’s production of Thoroughly Modern Millie? I gotta see this.
• After all this buildup with Herbert’s campaign, this is all we get? A quick cut from the family excited for what should be a celebratory Election Night to their returning brokenhearted after Herbert loses? The big takeaway here is that Herbert seems so dejected that Lisa’s little pep talk — a mirror of one Herbert gave her when she felt guilty for a lackluster parenting moment — doesn’t bring him any type of comfort. They’re already going through a weird time in their marriage. Will this make it worse?
• Seema hired her driver back; all is right with the world again.
More From And Just Like That…
