‘Orange Is The New Black’ Season 4 Finale Recap: All We’ve Got Is Time

It’s only fair to begin this review of Orange is the New Black’s season finale by admitting that I don’t yet know how to feel about the episode. There are good elements, frustrating elements, questionable elements, beautiful elements. It is at once a successful episode of television and an emotionally manipulative hour. It is too easy, at times, and other times it is too hard and too real. In a lesser show, “The Animals” could have been the finale, leaving us with a character’s death as a typical cliffhanger, as Taystee’s sobs of grief echo. Instead, the finale is “Toast Can’t Never Be Bread Again” which goes a step further beyond death to examine the prison politics, to expose the callousness and racism that propel so many of these characters, to dive into the grieving process — how do you grieve when your friend’s body is still laying in the cafeteria where you’re supposed to go eat breakfast? — to try and tell the story of young black woman when she was still alive.

The flashbacks in this episode take on an almost surrealistic quality as they focus on a brief night in Poussey’s life when she’s running around New York City before going to Amsterdam. She gets separated from her friends after her phone is stolen at a Rootz (not Roots) show and ends up in a strange club with drag queens where she has to experience specific joyous aspects of life (kiss, feed), gets high, and dances until she’s sweaty and euphoric. She winds up on the subway witnessing various parts of humanity. She rides on the handlebars of a lit-up bike in a throng of monks who — in my favorite twist of the episode, because it brings the surrealism down to realism — turn out to be the group Improv Everywhere. It’s another way for Orange is The New Black to emphasize how much of a good person Poussey was, how she was young and hopeful and had it all taken away from her. It’s another way for the show to depict the good in order to really hammer home the bad.

In Litchfield, Poussey’s body remains on the floor covered by a white sheet and gawked at by some of the inmates. Caputo is not allowed to call the FBI or the coroner because the MCC needs time to get its story straight. Headed by a duo of two incredibly villainous men (like, cartoon villainous in a way that OITNB usually avoids; they even high-five each other at one point), they try to find a story to present to the public: Was Poussey dangerous? Was she in for a violent crime? Can they say she had a shank? Which COs will corroborate this story? Will any of the inmates? They scour her records — she’s in Litchfield for possession and trespassing — and her Facebook photos to try and paint her as a “thug.” They plan to get privileged Judy King released ASAP and to backdate the paperwork so it appears as if she wasn’t there at all during the murder. When they can’t find proper dirty on Poussey, they turn to Bayley and decide to paint him as a rabid maniac and a loose cannon (using a Halloween photo where he’s Rambo and the knowledge that he’s on antidepressants).

All of this is where “Toast” gets dicey for me. I understand exactly what the writers are going for and why they feel it’s important to really hammer home these parallels to real life: leaving a dead black body on the ground, not immediately reporting what happened, trying to make the victim seem like a “bad” person as a way to “justify” their death. I understand it but at the same time it comes off as so trying, so desperate to make a point that it doesn’t have time to focus on the emotional complexities of black death. “Toast” also spends quite a lot of time with Bayley and while I know that it’s good for OITNB to show another side — the officer who killed Poussey, who didn’t even know that she had died, who was just trying to do his job and is actually, sincerely apologetic — it’s frustrating how frequently the camera lingers on his crying face as he’s being comforted, rather than the deceased’s friends — her family.

I’m not saying “Toast” is a bad episode by any means, but rather that it’s just a hard one to watch and one that can’t accurately be judged after just one viewing. (Also, everything that’s occurring in the real world while I’m writing this makes it especially difficult.)

But let’s talk about the parts that I did love and latch on to. There is a repeated emphasis on the families that you form while in prison. Red is keeping her family busy scouting a new greenhouse (leading to smaller stories between Lorna/Nicky and Alex/Piper) so they don’t find themselves in trouble. Taystee, Black Cindy, etc. are grieving with their family, occasionally interrupted by other inmates who graciously bring them snacks — the prison equivalent of bringing over a dish of food after a funeral. Neither of them really know how to grieve because there simply isn’t a right way to grieve but instead they switch from joking to crying to fucking with Flores to punching Sankey when she starts spewing racism. Taystee goes to work and is candid with Caputo and his cowardice for not calling the coroner or not even calling Poussey’s father. Suzanne tries to feel the weight of Poussey’s last moments by stacking books on top of herself, struggling to understand what it’s like to be unable to breathe; a very drunk Brook eventually saves Suzanne after she’s found underneath a pile of overturned bookcases.

There are moments of comedy that try to keep “Toast” moving along: Leanne and Angie getting hammered off prison hooch and destroying the time machine; Maritza and Flaca putting on face masks so they can look good for the camera; Alison revealing her hair — a bright red that her friends can’t help but laugh at. But all of that is forgotten by the last few tense minutes of the season.

Caputo goes off script during his press conference and refuses to put the blame solely on Bayley, as MCC wants him to, but instead defends his actions. He says Bayley fulfilled his duty and will be back in uniform after a short leave of absence. It’s a small victory for Caputo, who finally stops being MCC’s puppet, but it’s a hollow one. He doesn’t once mention Poussey’s name. He doesn’t punish the officer who killed an inmate. He portrays Bayley as a victim while completely erasing the actual victim. It’s what sends Taystee — who had been hiding behind a desk rather than going to her bunk during lockdown — flying down the halls to angrily yell about what she just heard and to get the rest of the inmates ready to riot.

As all of the inmates storm from their respective dorms to a collective hallway, Humphrey is in the middle and reaches for the gun that he brought into work that morning. Maritza tackles him and the gun flies away, landing at Daya’s feet. Why Daya is the person who gets the gun doesn’t make total sense to me right now (though it does bring in Aleida, who watches the new from the outside) but regardless, there it is. And that’s how this fourth season ends: Daya pointing a gun at Humphrey as the camera dizzily spins around her. Therein lies the best part of the finale: It ends in the middle of things, with a dozen stories unresolved, letting everything linger in our minds.

EXTRA NOTES:

• There are a lot of plots that I didn’t get to including Healy’s brief appearance while drugged up and glancing at the news in the psychiatric hospital; Yoga Jones struggling to convince Judy to use her privilege to get the news out about Poussey (which would be impossible, as she’s caught in the literal middle of everything); Alex leaving notes with Aydin’s name around the prison to be discovered (I like that Alex/Piper were so sidelined that they weren’t even included in the riot); the hint that Piscatella has some shady past in the men’s facility (I suspect it has to do with his sexuality?); whatever the hell is happening with Tiffany and Coates.
• If they didn’t say Poussey’s name at the press conference, then Aleida has no idea whether her own daughter is alive or not.
• “Here it is.” Red has basically been sitting and waiting for a riot, but now I’m worried for her safety.
• Another heartbreaking thing: the repeated emphasis on how good Poussey was (she even looks adorable in her intake photo) and the repeated emphasis on how small Poussey was, smaller than most 12-year-olds; she was not even 100 lbs and posed no threat to any of the officers.
• Gloria thinks that Poussey’s death means things have to change in Litchfield; Sophia knows that things won’t.

[Watch the “Toast Can’t Never Be Bread Again” episode of Orange Is The New Black on Netflix]

Pilot Viruet is yet another freelance writer in New York City who watches everything from teen dramas to wrestling, hosts monthly TV parties, and started a website solely for a .pizza domain. You can follow them @pilotbacon.