Midge misses her marriage and Rose imagines a boho life in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel premiere
The opening scene of “Simone,” which brings us through the gorgeous halls of the B. Altman make-up counters to the basement where Midge now works as an operator girl, illustrates how one of the primary joys of watching The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is aesthetic. In many ways, the meticulously cool and fashionable world of 50s New York is a larger than life dollhouse, where each restaurant, café, and apartment provides a space for Midge to explore different aspects of her own identity. Through each new setting, even a potentially bleak one, we see how Midge doesn’t wilt. As an operator girl, she is as plucky and resilient as ever, cheerfully helping her exhausted coworkers, all of whom are getting panic attacks from the tedious and constant redirecting of calls.
The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel has always been deeply invested in exploring the tension between our desire for order and our desire for novelty. Unlike a show like, say, Mad Men, where the steady stream of sexism and racism undercuts any potential nostalgia a viewer could have for the 60s, the world of Mrs. Maisel is a more complicated pleasure, one where the viewer is clearly meant to revel in the crisp elegance of 50s fashions, while also being aware of the profound limitations that are placed on a woman as smart, capable, and deeply funny as our heroine.
In “Simone,” viewers are at first invited to re-experience the profound and intoxicating pleasure of nostalgia for the glamour of 50s New York that defined season 1, but we are also quickly ushered into what could possibly be seen as a freer and more bohemian life in Paris. This shift in locations in some ways explodes the vision of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel completely, taking us away from Midge’s immediate concerns of making it as a comic (and making money as a newly single girl) and giving us insight into her mother, Rose, who has decided to move into a humble little apt. in the same little neighborhood in Paris where she once went to school.
After a season watching Rose fret over Midge, it’s a fantastic revelation to see Rose in her own element: smoking defiantly in a run-down apartment with only one chair; adopting an adorable little dog named Simone who she spoils with too many treats; encouraging everyone around her to stay in the moment, rather than worry. In New York, Rose’s identity as a mother and wife have not only been limiting; they have also been unappreciated. Neither husband nor daughter notices that she has been missing for weeks. In fact, it’s only the realization that Rose has not returned in time for his university holiday party that prompts Abe to wonder where on earth his wife is.
If Paris is a reminder that Rose is a woman of multitudes, it’s also a reminder that Midge is not exactly counter culture. Her lecture to her mother is actually rather puritanical, especially her stern reminder that Rose has responsibilities that extend beyond herself:
“You made a commitment to this man,” she tells Rose, “He is your husband. You have to go back to him.”