A little blackmail, some devious pranks, and another broken truce later, it’s curtain time for Deborah’s late-night show. “I Love L.A.” opens with a galvanizing sequence of all the work that goes into a production of this size, from building sets to making wigs to finalizing joke/sketch ideas. (Pitches on the board include “Gay Disney adults,” “John Cho”—tell me more—and “Monsta X.”) Queen’s “Breakthru” plays over Deborah’s and Ava’s overlapping training montages, as the ascendant host deprives herself of food to lose weight before the big night and her head writer fully assumes her responsibilities. It’s at once invigorating and grueling, like most creative endeavors you pour your heart into. In other words, it’s a labor of love.
And this is just the effort put into the test show, where the late-night team is supposed to smooth out any wrinkles before the launch. Deborah looks and feels great when she first glides out onto the stage, but she falters when she comes upon the phrase “So this is my second act” in the cue cards. From the season-three finale on, Deborah’s been hyperaware of this being her second chance, but the full weight of this reality hits her during her test run. She has a panic attack that she remains in denial about even after the medic confirms she had one, so she falls back on her old ways, sniping at Ava that her “bad writing is killing me.”
Stacey, their new third/HR chaperone, is there to defuse the situation, just like she’s there to break up the vibe when they’re working or just walking into the building—a physical, persistent reminder of the issues they can’t seem to get over. Deborah and Ava can’t be alone together without Stacey and they work better without her, so episode director Paul W. Downs keeps his two leads apart for long stretches of “I Love L.A.” Deborah takes a trip to the cardiologist (on Winnie’s orders: “I just spent a lot of money at the dealership and I want to make sure I didn’t get a clunker”) while Ava continues to try to connect with her writers, starting with Merrill Markoe. Ava’s properly deferential to one of the pioneering women of late night, noting the disparity in their industry experience while also remaining very much her awkward self by highlighting their age difference. Merrill is unfazed, reassuring Ava that she doesn’t want her job. “I don’t want to call it hell on Earth,” the head writer of Late Night With David Letterman says, “but I mean, it’s a job for a lunatic.” Given the way she destroyed that stress ball in the opening moments of the episode, Ava’s already glimpsed this truth.
While at the cardiologist’s office, Deborah has her own meeting with a TV forebear: Carol Burnett. Even before the legendary comedian tells her that she’s “really happy for you. It’s about time a woman wore the suit,” Deborah looks a little starstruck. Despite everything she’s just been through, or perhaps because of it, Deborah seeks out a connection with the (fellow) legendary comedian. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” Deborah says. “When I was a little girl, I would watch you do that. And it made me feel like I could do that,” she continues—and, as Carol points out, has her own Ava-like moment.
Downs and writer Pat Regan establish a lovely symmetry between Ava’s and Deborah’s stories here, even though they’re on separate paths for a good chunk of the episode. They both encounter someone who helped pave the way for them, making minor faux pas in the process. Coming face-to-face with this broader history leads them to reflect on their personal one, and we see flashes of Deborah in Ava (when she mentally balks at Merrill bringing her dogs to the studio) and of Ava in Deborah (when she gushes over Carol Burnett). Naturally, a reunion seems imminent, but when Ava extends an invitation to Deborah to join the writing staff to watch the premiere’s broadcast, Deborah turns her down, albeit gently, by invoking their chaperone. But that’s okay, because if you’ve been watching Hacks this long, you know that delayed gratification is the name of the game.
At the taping of the premiere, Ava at least finds some comfort in Josefina (Rose Abdoo, who delivers maybe the reading of the episode with “Oh, you are starved for human touch”), who seems unaware that the two leading ladies are on the outs, but then declines Jimmy and Kayla’s dinner invitation. Jimmy, who’s prided himself over bringing and keeping Ava and Deborah together, is a little hurt that his two favorite clients have made other celebration plans, though he hides it behind a rambling (but apt) comment about Joan Didion and Eve Babitz. He and Kayla are waging their own battle over managerial styles; when Jimmy tells her they “have to set an example and lead with love,” Kayla rebuffs him: “You manage your way, I’ll manage mine.”
Then it’s showtime again, and as she makes her way to the stage once more, Deborah’s heart begins to pound, muffling all other sounds—the applause of the crowd, the encouragement from Diana, Jimmy, Rob, and Kayla (who just yells “Fuck ’em raw, baby!”). Just when we think she’s on the verge of another panic attack, it turns out to be a feint: Her microphone was accidentally picking up the sound of her heartbeat, which is something a tech easily fixes. Now it really is showtime, but Deborah stumbles over that “second act” line again. The sound cuts out once more, and everyone but Ava vanishes as Deborah acts on Carol Burnett’s advice about stage fright: “I would pick one person in the audience and I would do the show just for them.” Ava is the person Deborah wants to reach, both in this moment and with her show. Once she accepts this, she nails what turns out to be a great line, now that we’ve finally heard it—”Second act is code for ‘No one wanted to hire me for 40 years, but I refused to die until they gave me what I wanted!'”—and the rest of the show comes just as easily.
Now that the premiere’s in the bag, Ava and Deborah go their separate ways to celebrate what they just accomplished together. But when she notices how exhausted her writers are, Ava takes pity and sends them home instead of making them sip bubbly with her for the three hours left before the broadcast. Deborah, on the other hand, commands—er, invites—Damien to join her after Randy Newman declines her invitation and Winnie bails (to clean up her kid’s vomit, which seems both nice and odd for someone this rich and powerful). Their stories dovetail again as Ava and Deborah both try to salvage the night, with hilariously disastrous (and sexy) results. Ava’s desperate bid to stop her car from being towed by buying a dildo at a sex shop leads to a date with a couple (Medalion Rahimi as Emily and Alexander Koch as Dev), while Deborah’s out-of-character favor for Damien—letting him show her off as his celebrity friend at a gay club—leads to even more uncharacteristic behavior in the form of sniffing poppers and knocking herself unconscious in a go-go cage.
Ava learns she’s still Deborah’s emergency contact when the hospital calls her, much to her boss’ chagrin. But whether it’s because of the “nonconsensually administered” poppers, the knock on the head, or the realization that Ava is the only audience that matters, Deborah lets her guard down. They eventually settle into the ER waiting room, surrounded by injured people, to watch the historic episode of TV they just made. After all the blows to their dignity (and persons), it’s a more fitting setting than a fancy restaurant or Bar Lubitsch. Deborah alternately lights up the screen and the waiting room as she watches her dream come true, while a captivated Ava looks even prouder, if that’s possible. I got a lump in my throat watching Deborah sneak glances at Ava, looking for approval or maybe just recognition—either of what they just pulled off, or of how Deborah’s past and Ava’s future fit together, because after all, Deborah is also one of Ava’s forebears. “If you’re a little girl watching, you can do this too,” TV Deborah says, promising to “keep the chair warm for you.” In the hospital, Deborah looks almost relieved when it’s over and a bit choked up. “Congratulations,” Ava tells her. “You too,” Deborah says, without hesitation. Though it’s been thoroughly tested, and may continue to be, Ava and Deborah’s connection remains undeniable.
Stray observations
- • In a message before the credits, Hacks dedicates “I Love L.A.” to the victims and first responders of the 2024 Los Angeles wildfires.
- • The final scene, which is light on dialogue aside from the TV, is a great example of the give-and-take between the characters and that of Jean Smart and Hannah Einbinder. Downs and Regan, who previously collaborated on the season-one episode “1.69 Million,” show they have a strong grasp of what makes Deborah and Ava work so well together.
- • Not sure what the platonic version of a wife guy is, but Jimmy is gunning for that post with his “Women supporting women, that’s where it’s at” and “I told you, read women.” Women guy? Real-life reply guy?
- • Kayla, trying to convince everyone that Jimmy doesn’t have panic attacks: “He’s heard; he doesn’t freak out all the time.” Master of diversion, that one.
