It started with a brisket. Well, a brisket and a breakdown. When The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel first sashayed onto Amazon Prime Video back in 2017, nobody quite expected a period piece about a 1950s housewife doing stand-up to become a cultural juggernaut. It felt niche. It felt specific. Yet, by the time Miriam "Midge" Maisel took her final bow on the Carnegie Hall stage in the series finale, the show had scooped up 20 Emmy Awards and redefined what we expect from high-budget streaming television.
People still argue about the ending. They argue about Joel. They definitely argue about whether the "flash-forwards" in the final season were a stroke of genius or a jarring distraction from the pastel-colored nostalgia of the Gaslight Cafe. But that’s the thing about Amy Sherman-Palladino’s writing—it’s fast, it’s messy, and it’s unapologetically loud.
The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and the Myth of Having It All
Midge Maisel wasn't exactly a relatable protagonist at first glance. She lived in a classic six on the Upper West Side, had a wardrobe that required its own zip code, and possessed a level of confidence that bordered on delusional. But the core of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel isn't actually about the dresses or the jokes. It’s about the cost of ambition.
Most sitcoms about "making it" show the struggle as a series of quirky mishaps. Midge’s struggle was different. It was lonely. To become the biggest female comic in the world, she had to sacrifice her marriage, her reputation in her Jewish community, and a significant chunk of her relationship with her children. The show never shied away from the fact that Midge was, at times, incredibly selfish.
Think back to the Steiner Mountain Resort episodes. While everyone else was focused on the "Simon Says" competition or finding a husband, Midge was sneaking off to do sets in dark rooms. She was living a double life. That tension—the pull between the life she was "supposed" to want and the stage she couldn't live without—is why the show resonated even with people who have never stepped foot in Manhattan.
The Susie Myerson Factor
You can't talk about Midge without talking about Susie. Alex Borstein’s portrayal of Susie Myerson provided the necessary grit to Midge’s glamour. Their chemistry was the real love story of the show. Forget Joel. Forget Benjamin (even though Zachary Levi was charming). The heartbeat of the series was two women from opposite worlds trying to scream loud enough for the world to notice them.
Susie was the pragmatist. She was the one dealing with the mob, sleeping on a cot in a basement, and carrying around a plunger as a defensive weapon. She saw Midge not as a "pretty girl" but as a "comic." That distinction matters. It’s the difference between a hobby and a calling.
Why the 1950s Setting Actually Mattered
A lot of period pieces use the era as wallpaper. Not this show. The production design by Bill Groom and the costumes by Donna Zakowska weren't just eye candy; they were narrative tools. In the world of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, the way you looked was your armor.
When Midge loses her "perfect" life, her clothes stay perfect. It’s a facade. As the series progresses and she moves into the 1960s, we see that armor start to crack. The colors get bolder, the hemlines change, but the world remains hostile to a woman with a microphone and an opinion.
The show did a fantastic job of integrating real-life historical figures into Midge's fictional orbit.
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- Lenny Bruce: Luke Kirby’s performance was haunting. He wasn't just a guest star; he was Midge’s North Star. His real-life tragic trajectory served as a grim reminder of the stakes involved in "blue" comedy during that era.
- Moms Mabley: Brief but impactful, showing the intersectionality of the comedy scene that Midge often overlooked in her own bubble.
- Jane Jacobs: Remember the protest in Washington Square Park? That was a real moment in NYC history, pitting the legendary activist against Robert Moses.
The Controversy of the Final Season
Let's get into the "20s and 30s" of it all. The fifth season took a massive risk by jumping forward in time. We saw a 60-year-old Midge. We saw her estranged daughter, Esther, struggling with the weight of her mother’s fame. We saw a burnt-out Susie.
Some fans hated it. They wanted to stay in the 1960s forever, frozen in the amber of The Gordon Ford Show. But the time jumps were honest. They showed that fame isn't a "happily ever after." It’s a grind. Midge got what she wanted—global stardom—but the final shot of her sitting alone in her massive apartment, laughing at a tape of Lenny Bruce, was bittersweet. It confirmed that she chose her career over everything else. Honestly, it was the only way the show could have ended and remained true to Midge’s character. She was never going to be the wife who stayed.
What New Viewers Get Wrong
If you're just starting The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, don't expect a typical comedy. It’s a drama that happens to be very funny.
One of the biggest misconceptions is that it's a "feminist manifesto." It’s actually more complicated than that. Midge isn't trying to change the world for all women; she’s trying to win for herself. She’s often blind to her own privilege. She’s wealthy. She’s white. She has a support system (even if they’re annoying) that looks after her kids while she’s at the Blue Note at 2:00 AM.
The show is better when you view Midge as a flawed protagonist rather than a hero. Her parents, Abe and Rose Weissman, provide much of the emotional heavy lifting. Tony Shalhoub’s Abe Weissman is perhaps the best-written character on the show. His transition from a rigid Columbia professor to a man questioning his entire existence is as compelling as Midge’s stand-up journey.
Behind the Scenes: The Rapid-Fire Dialogue
There is a specific rhythm to this show. If you find yourself reaching for the subtitles, you aren't alone. The actors had to learn "Sherman-Palladino-ese." This involves:
- Speaking at roughly 150% the speed of a normal human.
- Overlapping lines where the end of one person's sentence is the start of another's.
- Constant movement. The "walk and talk" is a staple here, often filmed in long, single takes (oners) that required dozens of rehearsals.
That speed is meant to mimic the energy of New York City. It’s a city that doesn't wait for you to catch up. If Midge pauses to think, she loses the room.
Actionable Steps for Fans and Newcomers
If you want to truly appreciate the world of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, you need to look beyond the screen. The show is a love letter to a specific era of entertainment that is mostly gone.
Visit the Real Locations
While many sets were built at Steiner Studios in Brooklyn, many locations are real. The Gaslight Cafe was a real place in Greenwich Village (though it's now a different business). The Old Town Bar and McSorley’s Ale House still exist and look almost exactly like they did in the show.
Research the Comedy Legends
To understand Midge, read about the women who actually did it.
- Joan Rivers: Midge is heavily inspired by Joan’s early career—the rapid-fire delivery, the Jewish identity, and the struggle to be taken seriously.
- Phyllis Diller: Though her style was different (more self-deprecating and costume-heavy), she broke the glass ceiling Midge is constantly banging against.
- Jean Carroll: Often called the "female Milton Berle," she was one of the first women to do stand-up in high fashion, looking like a socialite but talking like a pro.
Watch the "Oners" Closely
Next time you watch, look for the scenes without cuts. In Season 2, there is a scene at the Steiner resort that lasts nearly four minutes with no edits, involving dozens of extras and moving parts. It’s a masterclass in choreography and shows the technical depth of the production.
The legacy of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel isn't just about the awards. It’s about the fact that it proved a period comedy could be cinematic, expensive, and deeply cynical while still having a huge heart. It taught us that "tight ten" isn't just a comedy set—it's a way of life. If you haven't finished the journey, go back. The final season might be polarizing, but the "Four Minutes" episode is some of the best television ever produced.
Next Steps for Deep Diving:
- Listen to the Soundtrack: The music choices, curated by Robin Urdang, are intentional. The show uses "period-appropriate" music but often drops in a modern song or a musical theater track to highlight a specific emotional beat.
- Analyze the Costume Evolution: Notice how Midge’s color palette shifts from "Pink and Pastel" (innocence) to "Black and Deep Navy" (professionalism) as she gets more serious about her craft.
- Compare the Pilot to the Finale: Watch the very first episode and then the very last. The circular nature of her "brisket" jokes and her relationship with her parents shows just how much—and how little—the character actually changed.