That’s cold as hell, even as I totally understand Issa’s motivations. It’s been three weeks since Issa and Daniel’s studio tryst, and she hasn’t responded to a single one of his texts.
It can be hard to gauge how much time has passed from episode to episode, but Prentice Penny’s script wisely gets us up to speed. But once he finally corners Issa for a conversation, Daniel comes off far more sympathetic, and Issa turns out to be the asshole. His move initially seems uncool at best and legally actionable at worst. Molly wants Issa to affirm that she doesn’t need therapy, but she doesn’t get the response she was hoping for, another reminder that the title of the show doesn’t only apply to its main character.Īfter the fundraiser hits its stride, Daniel pops up out of the blue. She says she doesn’t want to “go broke paying for a fake friend,” even though her hourly billable rate probably far exceeds most therapists. When Molly acts incredulous about Crystal’s decision to go to therapy, more than anything she’s shocked that anyone is willing and able to admit they have problems worth seeking out therapy for. She felt humiliated even though no one in the room could have possibly known the joke stemmed from a discussion of her bumpy love life. Many people would have laughed off the “Broken Pussy” song as a hilarious callback to an earlier conversation, but Molly saw it as a personal indictment. It’s a fear Molly has been struggling with since the pilot episode. Molly’s no dummy, and she has to know on some level that given her recent streak of bad luck with the opposite sex, maybe she’s the one doing something wrong. Of course, Issa and Molly’s tiff isn’t really about therapy. (Then again, it did take a hell of a long time for her to make her first visit to the beach.) I don’t completely buy that Molly would be so principally opposed to someone seeing a therapist to tune up her life. I also tend to struggle with any story that suggests black people are unable to grasp mental-health issues or why it’s important to treat them. I honestly wasn’t crazy about how that story line was introduced, although there are plenty of Crystals in the world, people who can shoehorn a mention of their therapist into any conversation regardless of length. But just as the fundraiser appears to be shaping up as Issa’s first unqualified win, the cracks start appearing.įirst, Issa half-fights with Molly about the idea of going to therapy, an idea on Molly’s mind after running into a reformed good-time girl they knew from college. Everything is going so smoothly, I even forgot about Lawrence intercepting the suspicious text from Daniel. All her friends are there to support her, as is Lawrence, who’s in good spirits after accepting a new, non-retail tech job. The fundraiser is a massive success, and she personally talks a few donors into making considerable donations. Issa doesn’t fumble the ball in every respect. She’s like the kid who was always told to apply herself in school, then does so and is shocked to fail the test anyway. Issa is brimming with optimism, which is the natural side effect of any “trying on fancy clothes” montage, but she clearly doesn’t understand what she’s committing to. The episode begins with her auditioning freakum dresses for a major fundraiser for We Got Y’all, and telling Molly about how she plans to spice up her life with ingredients she already has in the cupboard. Caring means possibly getting hurt, and trying means possibly failing, but Issa isn’t thinking that far ahead. At the very least, she’s learning that there’s a sacrifice that comes with transforming from Miss Give No Fucks to Miss Give All the Fucks. I’m kidding, of course, but Issa is probably having those kinds of thoughts. So while anybody with basic human empathy will feel for Issa’s plight, let’s be honest: It’s what she gets for trying hard at work. No one ever has or ever will yell out “Bingo!” on them all. Four out of five technically counts as self-actualization. If the pillars of a fulfilled and worry-free life are career, money, friendships, family bonds, and romantic relationships, to be satisfied with two of the five at any given moment would be an achievement.
“Real As F*ck” potently demonstrates one of life’s most durable and frustrating lessons: There’s always a fire to put out. Yvonne Orji as Molly, Issa Rae as Issa Dee.