The Controversial ‘Girls’ Sex Scene That Has Jaws Dropping

It’s no secret that the main characters in Girls have always been plagued with a certain likability problem, well, at least among the viewers with the insistence that their protagonists be likeable. Hannah Horvath and company have been accused of being self-involved, entitled, and bratty. Perhaps this is a bit unfair, since the these terms could easily define the characters on Seinfeld, yet no one ever held that against Jerry and his crew of unapologetic sociopaths.

As the young women progress further into their 20s, however, there’s ample opportunity for them to grow as people and as characters, especially as they face new challenges and opportunities in the new season. We decided to chart their progress by ranking them each episode on a highly scientific likeability scale where the four main characters are ranked from most to least likable. The first episode encompasses the last few days Hannah spends in Brooklyn before saying goodbye to her friends at an erroneously themed “jazz brunch” and then departing for grad school. Here’s how Hannah and the rest of the girls fared.

Shoshanna

If there’s anyone we can guiltlessly root for this season, it’s Shoshanna, especially considering that her character was regarded as not much more than an afterthought during Season Three.

The premiere picks up with Shoshanna picking up her degree from NYU after completing her coursework over the summer. She’s bummed that she didn’t get to enjoy the pageantry of walking in her graduation ceremony, but that disappointment takes a back seat to the psychological crossfire she endures between her two bickering, divorced parents, played by Ana Gasteyer and Anthony Edwards. If anything inspires sympathy for Shoshanna, it’s watching the two Mels — Mel and Melanie — snipe at each other like rabid wolverines over which parent should receive their daughter’s college diploma in the mail. If anyone was wondering how Shoshanna grew up to be such a tightly wound, nervous poodle of a young woman, this scene should solve that mystery.

After surviving that encounter with her parents, Shoshanna bumps into Ray at Hannah’s going-away brunch. She very sweetly apologized to him for trying to manipulate him back into a relationship at the end of last season and then, in true Shoshanna fashion, completely froze up when he hugged her.

All in all, Shosh is demonstrating some actual self-awareness, which as we know is remarkably uncharacteristic for everyone else on the show. It will be interesting to see where this season takes her.

Jessa

Jessa may be second to Shoshanna in this week’s likability index, but it’s a very close second.

In the opening moments of Season Four, we’re greeted by a Jessa imbued with a previously unseen sense of purpose and responsibility. She seems dedicated to helping wheelchair-bound Beadie, the artist she previously helped attempt to kill herself, when Beadie’s daughter Rickie (in an incandescent turn by Natasha Lyonne), who steps in to whisk her mother away to her home in Connecticut. Jessa puts up a fight for Beadie to stay, only to get hilariously reamed out by Rickie, who can’t pronounce the word “unconscionable” despite multiple aggravated attempts. It’s here that we also learn that Rickie won’t be pressing charges after Jessa assisted with Beadie’s botched suicide attempt, so we can all breathe a sigh of relief over the presumed lack of scenes with Jessa in an orange jumpsuit, or even worse, a solemn Jessa sitting at the defendant’s table.

Jessa accepts Beadie’s departure with a certain amount of grace before insisting that Beadie admit that she loves her more than her own daughter. Beadie eventually acquiesces and it is adorable.

At “jazz brunch” Jessa interrupts Hannah’s bathroom mirror affirmations to drop some hard truths on her friend and take over the role of audience surrogate last held by Shoshanna during her Hamptons meltdown. She calls Hannah out for what people in twelve-step programs refer to as “pulling a geographic,” meaning that she’s just changing her location in an attempt to escape her problems. She also accuses Hannah of using the move to Iowa as a cowardly and passive way to break-up with Adam rather than doing it outright. Given Jessa’s erratic and reckless history, including, but not limited, to robbing an employer for coke money, marrying an obnoxious stranger on a whim, and blowing off her own abortion appointment to have drunk bathroom sex in a dive bar, Hannah should probably take a cold, hard look at her own motivations if Jessa is the voice of reason.

Hannah

Season Four seemingly hit an invisible reset button on the series. Or, at least, it seems that way since the premiere episode of the season opened the exact same way that the series began, with Hannah sitting down to dinner with her parents. However, instead of being financially cut off by her folks, her father, the wonderful Peter Scolari, is singing her praises and ushering her forward into the next phase of her life, which is enrollment in the prestigious and highly selective Iowa Writers Workshop. It’s a phase we presume her parents are bankrolling.

The fact that she got into the program on a lark is a strike against Hannah in terms of likability with the substantial portion of the Girls audience who are liberal arts college grads sitting on unsold novels and screenplays. The way Hannah seems to stumble into publishing deals and her competitive magazine job, even if it was writing glorified marketing copy, has always raised the hackles of those who resent the relative grace and ease with which the show’s detractors assume Dunham stumbled into her own show business success. In part, these fires were stoked by the fact that Hannah’s talent is always talked about, never actually demonstrated, yet constantly rewarded with desirable and arguably improbable opportunities that she’ll undoubtedly fuck up.

Apparently, she and Adam are still a couple after last season’s cliffhanger. However, things are looking tenuous for the pair given that they haven’t really formulated a plan as to how to carry out their relationship once Hannah ships off to grad school for two years. Hannah does her best to support Adam, especially during his hilarious breakdown over his equally hilarious commercial for a fictional anti-depressant. But she’s not exactly honest with herself or Adam when it comes to her motivations for skipping town. The whole trip to Iowa seems less about pursuing an opportunity and more about abandoning her relationship without having to have the pesky inconvenience of a confrontation. It’s clear that Adam is hurting over Hannah’s departure in his own repressed and emotionally stunted way, yet she goes out of her way to avoid the issue entirely.

As Hannah departs for the airport, and off to the next phase of her life, the scene closes on Hannah’s expression, which seems to telegraph “Holy fuck, what the hell am I doing?”

Marnie

Marnie is kicking off the season by being the far and away more unlikable person on the show.

Her arc begins with Desi the shaggy musician’s face buried deep into her ass. After he detaches himself from between her cheeks, he mutters a breathless “I love that,” which Marnie reciprocates with “I love you.” We can pretty much assume that this union will end up in flames.

When we see Marnie again, she’s getting ready to play a set when Clementine, Desie’s girlfriend, walks in. Yes, she and Desi are still together, and, yes, Desi walks up and kisses her as if he just didn’t have his mouth burrowed deep into Marnie’s ass crack.

Clementine then apologizes to Marnie for accusing her of having designs on her boyfriend at the end of Season Three, despite the fact that it turns out that she was right to do so. Marnie accepts this apology with an infuriatingly well-composed poker face and ups the deceitful ante by assuring Clementine that she never had any interest in her man. She then proceeds to shameless flirt with Desi during the pre-song banter before launching into a set that can only be described as a granola nightmare.

Marnie’s resolve starts to break during the performance after getting heckled by some hyperactive children and Elijah’s beach house ex Pal, who happens to be brunching as a table with three chicks referred to as “the Lisas.” I’d like to believe the breakdown in the middle of her performance was her conscience seeping through, but it was likely due to the fact of her ego being bruised over not being able to captivate the audience of the “jazz brunch.” Also, it should be illegal to combine the words “jazz” and “brunch.”

If anyone is wondering why Marnie turned out to be such a brazen sociopath, some clues may be explained by the presence of her mother, played by Rita Wilson. Wilson is the quintessential stage mom, mouthing along to the lyrics and wielding an iPhone dressed up in a case adorned with what looks like brass knuckles. Bless her.

Marnie shows hints of being a decent person when she shows up at six AM at Hannah’s apartment with a cup of coffee to see her off to Iowa. Otherwise, Marnie is taking the reins over from Jessa as the girl most likely to burn her life down at a moment’s notice.

Maggie Serota is a Staff Editor at Death and Taxes and a freelance writer who loves TV more than life itself.

 

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Photos: HBO