‘American Gigolo’ Episode 4 Recap: A Hooker with a Heart of Gold

There’s both a sweetness and a sense of humor to American Gigolo that were nearly impossible to see coming based on the source material. In a way, though, it makes sense. You don’t cast an actor as naturally soulful as Jon Bernthal in the role of a down-on-his-luck ex-hustler without trying a little tenderness, and you don’t cast a comedian who can do deadpan as well as Rosie O’Donnell without giving her some funny business to attend to. Skillfully written by Emily Kaczmarek and directed by art-house and television veteran Gregg Araki, this week’s episode (“Nothing Is Real But the Girl”) plays perfectly to these strengths.

The storylines are simple to follow — almost to a fault, honestly, as near-constant flashbacks to previous episodes and the occasional voiceover narration repeating dialogue from a previous scene are laid on too thick and remind us of things we already know perfectly well. Be that as it may! 

Reluctant to start tricking again, Julian takes on a high-priced client courtesy of his friend (?) Isabelle in order to pay the expensive veterinarian bill for that adorable dog who’s been following him around after it gets hit by a car. (Her owner is an unhoused young woman who couldn’t afford it out of pocket any more than Julian could.) What an amazing rationale the show has concocted for Julian going back to work!

Anyway, the client, Anne (Heather Mazur, leaving it all on the floor), is a profane and hard-charging tech exec from New York, in town to attend her high school reunion. When she chickens out, she takes Julian to a dive bar, where he fucks the shit out of her in the bathroom. So far, so good.

But then she drives drunk and nearly swerves into oncoming traffic, forcing Julian to grab the wheel and prompting him to ask her what’s really going on. She admits to having killed her high-school boyfriend in a drunk driving accident years ago, a tragedy for which she never faced punishment thanks to her wealthy parents. Without being punished, she feels she can’t move on with her life. 

But when Julian points out that she literally flew across the country in an attempt to directly face her past, she rallies, and decides to attend the reunion alone so as not to give the impression that she ever loved anyone again after her boyfriend’s death. She also gives Julian $10,000, which he immediately forks over to the vet. Awwww.

Meanwhile, Detective Sunday continues to investigate the murders surrounding Julian. Isabelle, who insists her business is perfectly legitimate, gives her nothing. But Julian’s mother is a different story. When Sunday shows up at her trailer, she flees into the desert, only to stagger back and pass out at the end of the broiling hot day. Sunday takes care of her, fixes her a cold bath, and observes the trailer, discovering that while everything else is covered in junk, Julian/Johnny’s room has been preserved as if in amber.

This jibes with his mother’s memories of why Johnny left: In her mind at least, she recalls sending him to a private school in Los Angeles to get him away from the neighbor who’d been molesting him. (This was done at his mother’s behest, if you recall.) When she reveals that the name of the woman who took him away was Olga — known to Sunday as Julian’s slain ex-pimp — another piece of Julian’s life clicks into place.

Driving home, Sunday calls her ex, a woman named Rachel (Heather McComb). They commiserate about their failed relationship, and Rachel comforts Sunday over the long-ago death of her kid brother, a loss she’d brought up with both Isabelle and Julian’s mom, it being the anniversary of…whatever happened to him. 

Then Sunday goes to the gym and gets asked out on a date by Paloma (Melinna Bobadilla), the receptionist with whom she’d already been shown to have hilariously obvious sexual chemistry. Everything’s coming up Sunday! Well, one thing, anyway.

Finally, there’s Michelle, Julian’s ex-girlfriend. In flashbacks, we learn that they’d planned to officially get together, with Michelle leaving her husband, the night of the murder of the woman who was to be his very last client. (Quite a coincidence, that!) We also learn that while in prison, Julian ended the relationship rather than allow Michelle to tell her husband and hopefully use his money to defend Julian’s innocence.

In the present, Michelle is worried about her missing son Colin (duh) and his potential legal trouble over the murder of the teacher who’d been molesting him. Her husband’s security guy Panish, who actually killed her, concocts a way to get Colin (and himself!) off the hook: have Michelle frame Julian for it, since his photo was at the crime scene anyway. When Michelle can’t go through with it, Panish takes it upon himself to tell the cops this cover story. We’ll see if anyone bites, I guess.

Looking over my notes on the episode, I’m struck by, well, how struck I was by Julian and Sunday’s kindness toward strangers. Even while fucked up on booze and coke, Julian personally carried that dog to the vet, made sure his owner knew where he was, and footed the bill for the pup’s treatment. He’s just as careful with Anne’s feelings as he is with the dog’s physical well-being. And even though his mother initially fled Sunday, the detective waits until she returns, carefully nurses her back to health, and apologizes for wrongfully accusing Julian of the murder he went to prison for. Underneath their diametrically opposed (and morally dubious, depending on your point of view) jobs, they’re both decent people.

And again, the show plays to O’Donnell’s strengths as a comedian in particular. She’s hilarious when Isabelle gives her a drink that’s more fruit than water. She’s hilarious when she tries and instantly, I mean within five seconds, fails to chase his mother into the desert. (“Stop running! Slow down!” she hollers at the fleeing woman as she herself, you guessed it, slows down and stops running.) She’s hilarious with Paloma, as she repeats the reasons she doesn’t have a partner either at work or in life verbatim: “I’m cranky, I’m set in my ways, and I like to work alone.”

As for Bernthal, the dude gets seriously sexy in this episode too — a less surprising element of the show than the kindness or the comedy, perhaps, but a vital one. I loved the way he instinctively smiled when he said “Hi” to Anne during their first phone conversation, as if his ladykiller charm cannot be switched off even when he’s alone. The sex scene in the bathroom is both hot and, well, kind of disgusting, as hot things can sometimes be; Anne winds up in bare feet, one of them resting on the toilet seat, as they bang against the wall. 

And there’s a workout sequence in there too that’s straight outta the Richard Gere playbook, if you’re into that sort of thing. Who wouldn’t be? Just look at the guy! Which is something I’ll happily do for four more episodes this season if the show remains this entertaining in this many ways.
Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.