So far in season five, Hacks has moved expeditiously, summarizing the blowback to Deborah’s fiery (and final) late-night monologue, bringing back familiar faces, and breezily establishing what goal Ava will attempt to accomplish with her friend and collaborator: headlining a show at Madison Square Garden. Tonight’s episode, “Number One Fan,” immediately introduces another hard-as-nails industry veteran—Alanna Ubach’s Amanda Weinberg, the steely booker for the Garden—and a new obstacle, which is also Amanda Weinberg, who doubts that Deborah has MSG-levels of appeal. Despite praising her stint on Late Night, she thinks Deborah would be better suited for Radio City Music Hall or Webster Hall. Poor Damien lugged that Jeroboam of wine around New York for nothing.
There’s barely any time to register Amanda’s comments that, in order to play the World’s Most Famous Arena, you have to be “the center of the cultural conversation.” And even though she’s having another very public feud that she hopes will see her “[take] down Bob Lipka, and his censorship of me, and [speak] truth to power,” it can’t readily be said that Deborah currently occupies that position. Leaking video from the not-so-secret comedy show in order to get around what’s effectively a gag order was an ingenious move on Ava’s part, but “Number One Fan” gives no indication that it did spark discourse beyond the initial wave of reactions. But if we’ve learned anything about Deborah (or Ava, for that matter), it’s that she thrives on being underestimated. So, after making one last bribe—er, bid—to win Amanda over, Deborah heads back to Las Vegas to galvanize her fan base to lead a grassroots campaign on her behalf.
The Little Debbies’ fervor is legendary, having previously taken down snack-food retailer and mid-range designer websites, and we just got another taste of their devotion in “EGOT.” But when Deborah arrives at her booth at the Day Of 100 Stars Vegas convention, the air is thick with resentment. Ava gets more love in these early moments as she meets her first fan, Cindy (Leanne‘s Hannah Pilkes), who follows her around the convention center, lavishing praise and making astute observations. “It’s kind of crazy how you’ve changed the whole trajectory of her career,” Cindy notes, which, despite the reveal at the end of the episode, is a fair assessment and also precisely the reason I’ve felt Ava was ready to take the lead more. Obviously, Deborah did a lot of the work herself, but she would have never reached the first-woman-late-night-host level without Ava challenging her to be more introspective and trusting. Now, it took a lot for Ava and Deborah to get here, and with the finale less than two months away, I’m hardly eager to see the team break up. But I’m glad to see someone point this out to Ava, even if it was all a ploy for Cindy, “a third-generation Little Debbie,” to get Deborah for herself.
Deborah’s homecoming (second-homecoming?) starts off tensely, with the Little Debbies, including Ezekiel (Guy Branum, who also wrote one of my favorite episodes of the series, “Join The Club”), airing their grievances. What follows is a funny sequence of Deborah’s fans voicing complaints to her as if she’s customer service. They tell her that when she “went Hollywood,” she abandoned her duties as their idol, leaving them to figure out Christmas themes, car insurance, and political affiliations for themselves. They feel so neglected that Ezekiel’s even thinking of switching allegiances to Kathy Griffin! Deborah takes umbrage, of course—”Maybe I should start over, get all new fans. People are born every day”—but a heartfelt tribute from a fan (Bayne Gibby, who is great in so many things, including The Comeback seasons one and two, and here, where she holds what can only be described as an unholy piece of fan art) shames her to the point of needing to step away from the crowd.
Deborah’s interactions with her fans have often been fraught, especially when they involve poorly made jeggings. But “Number One Fan” takes a closer look at their relationship, employing none other than Ann Dowd to spell out exactly what each party gets from the other. “They support us; we show up for them…. They want to feel like they’re in a relationship with you,” Dowd explains in character as an actor in costume as an alien. Their exchange is memorable, not least of which because it sees two acting greats share a screen, but its bluntness feels like an unintended consequence of the brisk pace that’s marked these early episodes. Lucia Aniello, who directs “Number One Fan,” and Ariel Karlin, the Hacks stalwart who wrote the episode, are certainly well-positioned to weigh in on the dynamic between fans/viewers and a performer/show. Along with the other series co-creators Paul W. Downs and Jen Statsky, they must have a lot to say about having expectations and having to live up to them. There just might not be enough time to express it all, at least not as slyly as in the past, when trying to establish the show’s legacy at the same time that they’re ending it. (I also can’t shake the feeling that Tim Bagley beat Ann Dowd to this revelation in season three’s “Yes, And.”)
In the end, Deborah and Ava get their wishes. At her surprise 30th birthday party, which has all of her favorite things and most of her favorite people—hi, Jane Adams!—Ava is serenaded by 2000s pop star (and my sister’s crush) Jesse McCartney, which is apparently something she journaled about as a tween. But it’s safe to say that what Ava was actually hoping for was to finally clear the air about what happened on their last night in Singapore. Realizing that Deborah feels bad about having been so mean, Ava’s tried to absolve her through jokes. (“I didn’t survive growing up in Massachusetts by letting a drunk person’s insults affect me.”) “Guilt looks good on you,” Ava cracks, but, for now, she’s also content to admit that Deborah wasn’t wrong: “You are my only friend. What hurt me was that you said it was weird, ’cause I don’t think it is.” Her honesty prompts Deborah’s own admission, which is that, though she’s always been popular, she’s spent most of her adult life without close friends. That’s not a new observation for the show; Ava’s pointed out, albeit in a very different tone, that most of Deborah’s relationships are transactional or business-related. But saying it out loud helps Deborah banish the guilt she’s been feeling and just in time for a beleaguered Amanda Weinberg, who’s drowning in sequins and other packages from the Little Debbies, to offer her a date at Madison Square Garden (9/11, which could lead to some truly terrible marketing ideas for someone with Deborah’s history).
“Number One Fan” moves the story forward and allows for a trip down memory lane (for Ava, it goes as far back as an eighth-grade obsession with hermit crabs), which seems to be the M.O. of season five so far: big swings paired with callbacks. Right now, it doesn’t look like moving in circles so much as taking a victory lap, which is a bit self-congratulatory but also potentially quite bold. Free of Bob Lipka and any real industry backing, Deborah and Ava are now calling the shots, and Hacks is calling its shot with its final season.
Stray observations
- • Depending on what year the show’s taking place, offering Amanda “two shares of Berkshire Hathaway Class A stock” might have been tantamount to a $1.4 million bribe.
- • Schaefer & Lusaque & Randi continue to build their fairly niche agency, signing Renee O’Connor of Xena fame just as they could use an infusion of funds. It’s all very convenient, but if that bothers you, just tell yourself “A wizard did it.”
- • “I’m bringing back Deborah Plus!” No, we don’t need more streamers!
- • “That’s all [fans] want. That and a T-shirt only some people are allowed to get.” That convention held 100 stars and at least a couple of profound truths.
- • I’d like to think that, in our world as well as that of Hacks, Ann Dowd inspires the kind of devotion that would lead a fan to train their anus to hold a stamp well enough to paint a portrait of her.
Danette Chavez is The A.V. Club‘s editor-in-chief.
Keep scrolling for more great stories.