Underneath the general blandness of Ted Lasso‘s latest season finale are hefty emotional themes that get lost in the shuffle. Pivotal conversations about grief and the inevitable cycle of life and death are strewn in between ludicrous storylines—not least of all Zelda’s. Sorry to Tracey Ullman, but this better be the last we see of her awfully written character, who proves to be entirely purposeless in “Being Alive.”
But I digress: Season four has felt unmoored throughout. It’s an improvement on the third season, to be sure, but that was a low bar to clear. The show has clearly lost the sweet edge and skillful execution of its early run.
The finale—penned by, who else, Jason Sudeikis and Brendan Hunt—chugs along because it has to. “Being Alive” merely touches on feelings that Ted Lasso has more astutely grappled with before, especially in season two when Ted sought Dr. Sharon out for therapy. The happy-go-lucky coach opened up about his father’s suicide, how it affected him, and why he resented his dad for overworking and then “quitting.” As things start to come full circle, Ted realizes there’s a good chance Henry could start to resent him. After all, Ted has been so busy coaching Richmond games that he’s missed his son’s football matches for most of the season.
Everything between Ted and Henry is—or should be—Ted Lasso at its poignant best. And yet, the lack of focus on this parent-child relationship so far reduces its significance in the finale—it’s rushed, rather than organically developed. After Mae’s wake at the pub, Henry heads upstairs and fires a heavy shot at his father, asking him how Ted’s dad actually died. At first, Ted goes along with the lie that Henry’s grandpa fell down a flight of stairs. Later, he comes clean in a conversation that, in a classic Ted Lasso move, we don’t get to hear. This specific complaint is less about hearing Ted repeat what we already know about his upbringing, and more about not seeing how he tells the story now as a father himself and what Henry’s response is. And dare we include Michelle in this conversation at all, considering she’s just one floor below at the pub?
Mae’s death causes a lot of other changes, as almost everyone questions everything after it happens. Keeley—dealing with morning sickness—says as much. But how does she internalize this huge change in her life? Who knows, because Ted Lasso hasn’t bothered diving in. Her storyline has regressed to “Keeley’s pregnant now so we must find ways to keep her bedridden.” Meanwhile, Roy is offered a head coaching position at Chelsea, a job he eventually accepts with his girlfriend’s encouragement. Rebecca doesn’t take the news well at all before naturally relenting and wishing him good luck with a tight hug.
Rebecca goes through her own ups and downs in “Being Alive” in a way that proves Ted Lasso doesn’t know what to do with this character anymore—a strange development because she was a confidently written co-lead before. Rebecca and Higgins, upon finding out (offscreen, duh!) that Zelda is the one secretly buying up the shares, act out dramatically in front of her at a shareholder meeting, making her believe she’s won this game of chess. But Rebecca’s winning move occurs when she brings Zelda’s BFF, Hugo Riddles, out because he helped Rebecca figure out the truth. Fed up with Zelda’s insults, Hugo turned on her. But how does this matter in the grand scheme of things? Zelda, an over-the-top and one-note character, barely holds any value, so to give her and her random friend this weight in the finale is confusing and a waste of precious time.
Despite this twist, Zelda and Rebecca own an equal stake in the club. That changes with the reveal that Mae obviously left her shares to Rebecca, giving her the upper hand. I’m sorry: Was poor Mae killed off for this? Couldn’t she have just transferred her 2% to Rebecca while, you know, “Being Alive”? Not only does Zelda seem aimless now, but so does this big character death. Funnily, when Rebecca confronts Zelda over her actions before promptly forgiving her, she asks “What happened to women helping women?” Let me twist that question for Ted Lasso a little bit: What the hell happened to making a season about women in full force? Keeley, Rebecca, Mae, and Zelda have suffered (or made us suffer) in different ways.
Speaking of, Rebecca ends this season by proposing to her long-distance boyfriend when he visits her in her office. After ruminating over how life is messy and that’s a good thing, she decides to jump into the deep end. She always enjoyed marriage, she tells Ted, but got caught up with the wrong person. Apparently, Matthijs is right one. If you say so, Ted Lasso, because you certainly made no effort to show so in season four. It’s hard to buy into a relationship when they haven’t done the legwork to sell it. But in the words of Michael Scott: “BFD. Engaged ain’t married.”
Not even the poor Lady Greyhounds’ get proper time in this episode. It’s their final, sold-out game at Nelson Road. Even the former AFC Richmond players drop in to watch, including Dani Rojas and Sam Obisanya. But we don’t get to see the end of the match—in an absurd editing choice, “Being Alive” just cuts to the shareholder meeting. All we see of the team is what we already know: Lizzie’s ex is a piece of shit, Siobhan and Niamh are the most fun sisters, Shannon is the team’s breakout star now that Gemma is benched, and Madi and Margi are complicated exes. Yeah, this team has bonded, but it’s too bad the show hardly allowed its viewers to bond with them. The only one unscathed by Ted Lasso‘s bizarre treatment of its female characters is Alice Chilton, who has had a fantastic season-four run, cemented by her exceptional turn in the finale. We deserve a season or show entirely about her because Tanya Reyn
When Alice was introduced as a grumpy assistant coach, she pointed out how Rebecca never even considered her for the job she flew all the way out to Kansas to hand to Ted. But it was also clear that Alice had some learning to do herself when it came to teaching the players, minus the tough sarcasm. She’s done exactly that, and is a crucial, beloved part of this team. Heck, she even joins the Diamond Dogs (And Cat) when Nate visits just in time for Roy to walk in to ask the dudes and Alice for advice. Roy is nervous about becoming a father, with each guy (Ted, Beard, Higgins, Nate) and Alice discussing parenthood in one way or another. Alice’s tip is my favorite: “Don’t disappear when you feel inadequate.”
Roy’s fears about becoming a dad are grounded in reality; one that Ted Lasso badly wants to comment on, as seen with Ted’s arc or the other complicated dad-child relationships on this show (Jamie! Rebecca! Nate!). And yet, like it has with almost everything, Ted Lasso loses its way with a surprising inadequacy. There’s only so much the committed performances from Hannah Waddingham, Tanya Reynolds, Brett Goldstein, and Jason Sudeikis can do. Is it still fun to see these familiar characters banter? Yes, but the Diamond Dogs scene is a reminder of how good we hadback when the show invested in coherent character dynamics. There are a few touching moments in “Being Alive,” like Roy opening up Ted’s gift of the little green statue or Alice earning her promotion while Ted voluntarily takes a demotion to assistant coach so he has more time to spend time with Henry. At the same time, Ted Lasso is no longer a coherent TV dramedy; it’s a string of very few commendable moments begging for a reaction. And most often during season four, that reaction was a shrug.
Stray observations:
- • Keeley, in response to Roy musing whether they’re inadvertently responsible for Mae’s death because they’re bringing new life into this world: “Who the fuck do you think you are? Thanos.” (A hilarious thing to say to Brett Goldstein, who made one brief MCU appearance and was never to be seen again).
- • Speaking of Goldstein, his facial expressions are off the charts when Beard tells the story of believing Jane was pregnant for 11 months. Yikes.
- • Jane pops at Mae’s wake in a hot dress and accidentally injures Beard in the process. This whole endeavor, and some words from Matthijs (of all people), make Beard reconsider his actions. He opts for a fresh start not by shaving off his beard, but by going bald like Rebecca’s fiancé. Perhaps in season five, Beard travels the world and rarely shows up?
- • Emma Stone and Richard Schiff are starring in Jane’s West End play about her relationship with “the Bearded Coach.” Sure, Jan.
- • With Roy gone, will new-ish girl dad Nate take over the men’s team? Currently, he’s the head coach of the Polish national football club, and he has a daughter with Jade. They’ve named her Athena, presumably because the two met in a Greek restaurant.
- • Mae leaves The Crown And The Anchor to the three Looney Tunes-esque regulars with one instruction: “Don’t fuck it up.” They likely will.
- • Rebecca tells Roy that she wants his and Keeley’s child to call her Auntie Supreme. Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, but it does fit Rebecca.
- • Brandi Carlisle softly, beautifully sings the Ted Lasso theme song in this episode instead of Marcus Mumford.
- • That’s all from me, folks. As a former Ted Lasso fan, I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed. But I hope you had a better experience. And maybe we’ll do this again for season five in 2029 or something.
Saloni Gajjar is The A.V. Club‘s TV critic. Want to make sure you’re seeing more of her recaps and reviews? Add The A.V. Club as a preferred source on Google.
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