What I Want From Season 3 Of And Just Like That

We watched every week, waiting until a dignified hour to put it on. We learned to say “Max” instead of HBO, even downloading the separate app. We wondered what would happen to Lisette’s rental situation. We did it: we renewed And Just Like That.

This is our fault, and that’s why I’m saying we.

Since imagining if this show were good is as fun as watching it, here are my recommendations for season three. (And I’m writing and publishing this the day before it streams because that’s how confident I am nothing of import will happen on the finale.)

First, for the uninitiated: And Just Like That is bad. The viewing experience is like having someone relay it over brunch, whereas the stakes are like a kid playing in the bath (“We’re gonna be late for the Met Gala! My dress is too big! Now it’s too small! Now it’s too big again! And Elsa is there. :)”)

Katelyn, you’re saying this about a show you choose to watch! What would it take to get you to say something positive?? Answer: not much. I don’t need a lot to happen on my TV, plot or character-wise. But I need what’s happening to make fucking sense.

What I would make the dolls do if I were Michael Patrick King:

Carrie

The problem with Carrie is the problem with the whole thing. Her profession, it seems, is Book. This was true in the original series, but she mainly wrote columns that served as a framing device for each episode. Season 1 AJLT brought that into the modern world by having her do a podcast (silly!). Season 2 had her tank the podcast network because she was too embarrassed to do an ad read, thus freeing up her week (that did make me lol, actually). She’s obviously rich now from her marriage to Big, but the less she writes the worse the writing on the show. 

We need a return to the old episode structure. SJP serves at her computer with narration about confidence, or letting go, or the ethics of donating pants you wore right against your body. Everything from there on is in serve-ice to the cunting at hand. Each gal experiences something on that theme separately, or wills our heroine toward the right decision like Raphaelite cherubs. Closing narration et fin, laptop shut.

The fix: Give Carrie a Substack.

Charlotte

With the addition of LTW, we now have two hypercompetent moms with telegenic children and perfect marriage-maintenance sex schedules. With Charlotte back at work, we now have two working moms of this kind. This is giving us a lot of repeat performances: repeat performances from each woman, reminiscent of herself in an earlier episode, and also reminiscent of the other. I think the only way around this is to change one lady’s life significantly…

The fix: Send Charlotte’s children to live on Aidan’s farm.

Miranda

Yes, Miranda is a tragicomic stock character of the modern commedia dell’arte. It’s canon that she gets braces (teeth and neck), eats cake from the trash, and encounters endless sexual humiliations. But the writers have flanderized her slapstick quality to mean she puts up with bad treatment from other people. We got a moment of her standing up to Steve that resolved weirdly (the condom discovery isn’t necessarily proof he’s moved on and been fine this whole time, but possibly that he’s lonely? Hello??). And it was genuinely great how she expressed herself with Carrie about hanging out with the exes. But then a snow plow whipped through, pinning her flat against the front and delivering her right on the steps of Che’s comedy concert.

The fix: We need to remind every one of these people that Miranda has achieved more than them and have her PRACTICE LAW. Maybe there’s a group trip* and they’re all acting like she’s a nag/shrew on vacation, but on the plane home somebody has a legal emergency and it’s like “Is there a lawyer here??”

*(Just kidding, I listen to the companion podcast and know they will never film a(nother) scene outside of New York! Haha!)

Seema

Some of the finest TV I’ve seen this year was the wet hair moment outside the salon. It was such a beautiful depiction of true vulnerability in friendship, bringing your hurts to them and fighting for your connection, which doesn’t stop just because you’re in mid-life. And it got a phenomenal reception online because her monologue spoke to the single friends in a way we rarely get. Then the very next episode she starts seeing one of her clients, even bringing him to dinner with Caidan. Thank god that’s solved!

The fix: This show needs to get some balls and make her actually stay single. We got that with Samantha (only after she’s in an LTR with Smith), but they need to depict someone who wanted the big love and never got it. Too depressing to contemplate? That’s exactly why we need stories about it. We should all be more afraid of being Kathy, who thinks she’s in a relationship but whose husband is pining for Carrie and bad jackets the whole time.

Dr. Nya Wallace

I like writing it that way because I miss Dr. Roberta Bobby. As for Nya: my qualms with how she’s written aren’t about logic or cohesion. Hers are pitfalls that would happen even in the best hands. Basically, I think everyone writing this show is very married, if not literally then spiritually, to the point where they don’t know how to see any true, unconditional upsides to singleness. We get to see her having good sex, but she has to kick her himbo out of bed when life hits too hard while checking IG. Her Valentine’s Day storyline is the kind of condescension (“You go queen! It’s okay to cook for one!”) that gives me an ick for the coupled. And like Seema’s single status, I don’t trust them to do the right thing with her involuntary childlessness, which is missing from TV outside of witches and kidnappers.

The fix: Karen Pittman is featured so little this season because of work conflicts I don’t think how they write her will continue to be an issue. Good on her for finding a way to “dip out” (Sandoval).

LTW

I think the show has actually succeeded in their objective with Lisa in that we love her aesthetic. Her life, visually, is a breath of fresh air from the female dirtbag autofiction vibes of Carrie’s over-bed shelves and Miranda stubbing her foot on Che’s dresser. I can’t deny that she serves, and on a show that was once about fashion this is not unappreciated. Similarly, we all enjoy her persona. Despite not wanting her life at all, I like watching her be mother while literally being a mother. But the vibe-first characterization is comical at this point and has been responsible for some of the show’s oddest pacing. We got two separate scenes of her strutting all the way somewhere because her Lyft…didn’t come? She refused to take the one her husband called? Also: I despise her husband.

The fix: Actually follow up on the vasectomy. I’m not even trying to be funny. The writers can’t take back what they did with abortion (given the present human rights situation that was like, unforgivable) but they can make a choice that would take this from watchable to actually great TV.

Che

This is a really long email. You know why? Because there’s too many damn characters! That alone is responsible for so many of And Just Like That’s problems. 

The fix: Are you going to make me say it?