TED LASSO - SEASON 2 - EP1 - Don’t Save The Cat, Mourn the Dog (Patreon)

Welcome to TED LASSO Recaps! But let me acknowledge something right from the top. With the Disney+ / Star Wars / Marvel recaps I was able to get into the various issues of those shows with a level of clear-headedness and lack of bias that I’m just not going to be able to exhibit here. That’s because I know people involved with the very heart of making this show. And while I normally never cross those lines (it’s just too damn awkward), TED LASSO is the kind of genial juggernaut that hits the culture and needs a space to be talked about no matter what. I mean, it would be dumb for us NOT to talk about it. So please know this space is mostly for you and I’ll be doing my damnedest to explain why things work or don’t work, just take anything I have to say with the necessary grain of salt. Cool? Cool!

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Awwww, it’s back! That lovely show we can slip into like a warm blanket! As far as recapping it goes, I find it’s sometimes best to approach these things subject by subject rather than walking through chronological plotting. First, we’re going to wrestle with the four big issues at the center of the this episode, followed by a bunch of smaller observations.

The Season Two Existential Crisis - It’s long been argued that sitcoms are about Purgatory and this has certainly been true for shows in the past. Because you would have these characters trapped in an unchanging stasis, always bargaining to try and transcend their bounds, but doing so in a flawed way that always sent them careening back to earth and the status quo. It’s the way Frasier Crane would inevitably fail at putting on heirs, or the way George Costanza’s pettiness would unravel whatever social situation he found himself in. There’s a kind of karma that keeps these people in place, getting humbled, but rarely ever truly learning their lesson or growing. But honestly, all this was really more of a necessity of the older sitcom format more than anything else. It was a product of 22 episode seasons that often went on and on and on for years. The kinds of shows where missing episodes were part of the deal and even “heavy users” could catch about half of them.

Modern viewing is mostly different. Not just because the viewer has the capacity to watch shorter seasons on their own non-fixed timeframe, but because we have hunger for serialized stories that let characters actually grow. And there is perhaps no better example of this than the first season of Ted Lasso, in which all our characters come together, deep conflicts are healed, and catharsis abounds (even if literal winning did not). For season two, the question lies in the basic existential predicament: how do you engage with a show that has already achieved the catharsis in most of its major relationships? Because make no mistake, you need that backbone of real conflict to achieve depth. I touched on in my earlier essay about how “feel good” storytelling actually needs substantial conflicts in order to reach those emotional highs. You need to go low for the highs to feel like a radical difference. It’s impossible to coast on vibe.

So the whole question is “where do you find the lows?”

Apparently in accidental dog murder, but we’ll get to that later. The truth is that season two doesn’t seem all that intent on starting us low or mining the depths of worry (at least not yet). In fact, our upbeat clan starts in the one place of sitcom familiarity: a state of purgatory. All these characters are wrestling with “what comes next” in the happily ever after. And even on the pitch, they’re a team with 7 straight ties (which Ted believes is Karmic punishment at being happy with the almost-tie at the end of last season). On one level, it’s smart not to walk back on any of the growth they’ve established, but I’ll say it now, this season is going to NEED those new core conflicts in order to find the same level of elation. But as for the things that are being set-up, one of the sources of conflict is… perhaps surprising.

Therapy - “OMG they’re gonna do it!” meaning they are going to tackle the subject of therapy head on. Again, the title of the piece I wrote above was literally “The (Much Needed) Therapeutic Evolution of Media” because the show was so squarely about disarming toxicity and getting to the root of issues. Now that it’s being on the nose, I’m actually ecstatic. But I’ve been ardent about the benefits of therapy for years now. It got me to confront so much shit about myself, my life, how I grew up, and give me the tools to keep addressing those things in perpetuity. The other reason it’s important to be on the nose with it, is because it’s easy to wrap up these lessons in folksy wisdom, but so many people are STILL afraid of the clear, clinical essence of it. This is best embodied by Ted himself. For someone so therapeutic by nature, he has all the generalized anxiety and “midwestern skepticism” that we’ve seen prevent people from getting help time and time again (which is why crisis is usually what drives initial attendance). More than that, Ted can’t help but feel a little bit jealous of another person being so able to get through to his players. It’s not that he’s not happy for them, it’s more how it plays into control issues and him literally being shut out of that process (best embodied with The Godfather shot of the door closing). The set-up could not be more clear: It doesn’t matter how “great” or “nice,” you are, Ted is actually the one who needs to buy in the most.

But I’m very curious to see how it keeps playing out. Because we have gotten to see very little of newcomer Sarah Niles in her portrayal of Sharon, outside of her no-nonsense approach to the coach’s office banter. But this is also where I acknowledge some generalized worry about how her character could potentially play into the “black lady therapist” trope. Which, yes is a hyper prevalent thing that invokes older, much worse stereotypes and shows up again and again in modern TV, even in things I adore like BoJack. But of course, the answer doesn’t lie in mere avoidance of the trope, but instead getting into the meat of the issue and characterization behind the trope, while embracing the full spectrum of personhood underneath (which thankfully seems to be the case with the new season of In Treatment). Luckily, Ted Lasso is a show that has earned our trust with how it finds the complexity of its characters and you have to trust they will likely do the same here - or in the very least, showcase the ways in which Sharon is really, really funny.

The Yips - Sports breeds superstition. It does because so much rides on non-thinking performance. To wit, I’m not superstitious about anything else whatsoever, but there was one time in baseball I was on a terrible hitless streak at the same time as a losing streak. Then I was late for the next game and realized I hadn’t washed my uniform. I threw it on quickly, felt gross, but I went 3 for 4 and we won… so it immediately got in my head. I don't want to say how long I went without washing the uniform after (despite statute of limitations, I could be thrown in hygiene jail), but it’s insane to think about this now. I did it because physical performance is hard to explain and can so easily get in your head.

To that, the yips are a real thing. Like super real. You build muscle memory to create reaction times so you don’t even really think, but instead move off instinct. And suddenly, things can go wrong. Suddenly you start thinking about all that stuff your body does automatically and then you can’t even tie your shoelaces. You’ve likely had some kind of experience with this, where you can’t do something that’s normally very easy. But in sports, this happens at every level, including professional. Recent finals MVP and all around sweetheart Giannis Antetokounmpo can nail a three pointer in the middle of a fast paced game, but put him on the foul line and he’s suddenly an all-time yipper (except for that last game, thankfully). And in this same playoffs Ben Simmons got so in his head and so scared that he wasn’t taking any shots at all, which prompted Code Switch’s Gene Demby, a major Sixers fan, to tweet, “I’m mad but I’m also seriously worried about Ben Simmons. Like, is he okay? Not basketball okay but okay-okay?” (PS to any NBA fans, he’s one of my favorite follows). The point is the yips are super real and can genuinely destroy careers.

Which is why “Don’t say the Y word out loud!” made me laugh hard, as did almost every aspect of the plot. But I’ll admit, as an audience member, I wanted to see the way The Yips actually get engaged with. I wanted to see the parts of the psychology that need to be unpacked, lest the solutions seem like magic. But that’s where the framing between Ted and the therapist comes into play. Because we, like Ted, are on the outside of it. It has to seem like magic. At least for now. But that’s not to say the episode is lacking in thematic insight on the issue. If anything, the inciting incident to Danny Rojas’ yippy trouble suggests a much bigger theme at play.

On Dogs And The Arc Of Time - If you’ve read me long enough, you’ve probably heard me talk ad nauseam about the problems with Save The Cat, which, admittedly, is actually not all that terrible a screenwriting book. I just push back against treating it like industry gospel because I intensely disagree with some of the core concepts, starting with the very title. Because the idea of getting an audience on the side of character by showcasing noble likability and having them “save a cat” or something is… well, I’ll be blunt. It’s stupid and not what makes us like people. In fact, when we watch someone do noble sacrifice at the start of a story we’re more like “who is this Goody Two Shoes? What!? They think they’re better than me?” No, it’s fallibility that makes us like people. Mistake-filled normalcy. Hysterical Shortcomings. The simple act of spilling coffee on yourself. It’s the kinds of people who make us feel like we’re not alone in our basic struggles. And, sometimes, this involves identifying with those who are part of terrible, terrible accidents.

Like accidentally murdering a dog with a soccer ball.

Saving a cat, this is not. And the words of wisdom that Ted offers in the wake of such obvious (if not goofy) tragedy are poetic in the exact way that makes this show so damn resonant: “It’s funny thinking about things in your life that can make you cry, just knowing they exist.” And these words come as a hard-earned part of a story about the arc of time in a pet’s life. It’s the very notion of him getting to take care of a dog in his youth, one who scared him at first, then became familiar, and then was gone from his life all too soon. And all the things it makes him feel to this day.

If we understand anything about writing, it’s that the placement of this story at the start of the episode (and season) is not an accident. For one, it absolutely lines up the same kind of arc of fear that Ted will likely have with regards to therapy, having once been “bitten” in a traumatic scenario before coming to understand the joyous exaltation that comes on the other side of it. At the same time, this story of the dog is a rebuttal to the very notion of stasis and status quo itself. Because what is the feeling of stasis, but fleeting moments like joy and sadness just the same? As Danny conveys to us, “Football is life. Football is death.” And you can’t really engage unless you cherish and mourn those two ideas at once.

Admittedly, where most episodes end by addressing this sort of conflict and putting the thematic stamp right there as a button catharsis, this premiere is more about planting the seeds of the story and getting it’s touches in with all the characters. As for the eventual catharsis, well, we have to see where it goes, don’t we?

OTHER CHARACTER CHECK-INS!

Roy Kent - Keeping with the theme, he’s a man obviously struggling with the purgatory of retirement. He’s retreated to the comforts of yelling at enthusiastic kids and his yoga group who has no idea who the fuck he is, but he also knows what he doesn’t want to be (a pundit / a fan still hanging around the team / a retiree in general). Once again, we shall see where it goes, but I’m curious about why the episode ends on a Jamie tag. On one level it’s more just the continued pangs of jealousy, but more more for a youth that’s clearly passed him by. And on another level, it’s likely something else we don’t know yet.

Rebecca - She’s also in purgatory, but she also gets the fullest arc in the episode - because it’s about not settling for “fine” and realizing the self-worth of why she deserves to be struck by lightning (romantically-speaking). Naturally, I’m curious to see who will be the lightning strike - and more importantly, why they are.

Nate The (Not So) Great - So the set-up of this one is totally there, but doesn’t expressly get called out in the episode. Because twice we see Nate say a pretty dick-ish thing which elicits a stare or rebuttal from Ted. But I think this is actually one of the most interesting little things of the episode, because this is the flip-side of the thing that can happen with folks like Nate. In season one, Nate was the kind of person so trapped in shyness and lack of self-confidence. But part of his big turning point is the time he gets to let loose and “give it to the guys” with the tough talk, which largely worked because we knew the empathy it came from. But what happens when that  same “meek” guy buys into that confidence wholesale? Honestly, it can become just as toxic as anyone else who buys into their confidence without the needed empathy. But I’m guessing this is all a set-up for the same realization.

BEST JOKES / RANDOM THOUGHTS

-“Wow, we’re watching the end of someone’s career.” The Inadvertently Rude Dutchman is my new favorite character.

-No, I take that back. I hope the little girl with ice pack on her head who screams “YOU KNOW IT COACH” comes back because she is my hero

-Nate: “I promise that’s not what i wished for”

-Ted: “Back home when a team is playing unlucky what do we call ‘em?” Beard: “The New York Jets”

-Higgins: “They ordered us Thai- OH NO, I GET IT.”

-The way they both shush during girl talk.

-Ted Lasso, canon planned parenthood supporter.

-“All people are different people” which is a very good line made better because it comes in a very, very good context.

-When I saw Rebecca’s beau I was like “how do I know that guy?” and it seems my reference point for Patrick Baladi goes all the way back to The Office UK.

-Hahaha, I love the use of Aimee Mann’s “Wise Up'' being a stealth callback to the Magnolia conversation about Tom Cruise’s little ponytails. I also love the way the song gently plays during the second half of her conversation as she just stares off camera.

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Overall, my biggest emotion coming out of the premiere is curiosity, which is normally a sign of a show playing cerebral games, but that’s not what’s happening here. We’re just so much in the set-up, which is sometimes hard to go back to when it comes to a show that was delivering SO MUCH catharsis by the end of its last season. But you can’t fall into the trap of judging the set-up of this season by the same standards (people talking about The Wire would frequently fall into this trap). The shape of things will become more apparent with time. And with good writing, often things we were barely noticing were the very things that set the stage for the fireworks that come later.

For now, I’m just enjoying the stasis of where I’m at.

<3HULK