‘Too Much’ Episode 6 Recap: “To Doubt A Boy”

Never let it be said that Jessica Salmon is incapable of recognizing her own issues. In the very first scene of this seemingly pivotal episode of Too Much, she admits to her imaginary Wendy Jones that she ought to be mad at Zev rather than her, but she finds herself unable to channel her anger to him at all. She then tells (or tries to tell) her mother over FaceTime that she has no instincts when it comes men. She misattributes this to her mother’s influence rather than Zev’s, but it’s true! That guy pulped this poor woman’s sense of emotional equilibrium. Which is why it’s so satisfying when, by the end of the episode, she gets it back. 

Earlier, Felix and his band have a disastrous gig at tiny record shop (the owner of which is played by punk legend Don Letts). He attempts to crash at Jessica’s place for an indeterminate period of time after a row (that’s a type of argument English people have) with his bandmate/roommate Auggie in the aftermath. But when Felix accidentally overhears Jess recording an angry Wendy video about how he’s trying to barrel past her boundaries, he decides to pack up and head out after all. 

“You’re probably exhausted by my paranoia,” she says (having changed from the lingerie she tried to surprise him with into a trademark pioneer nightgown.

“I haven’t said any of those things,” he says, both about that and about the stuff she’s paranoid about to begin with. “I told you you looked fucking amazing, and I meant it. Sometimes it feels like you’re fighting with someone who isn’t even here.” He heads off to his ex-girlfriend/platonic-soulmate Polly’s place instead.

Jess, meanwhile, is off to the country side to find a quaint Christmas village for an ad being filmed by big-deal Irish director Jim Wenlich Rice (the infamous “Hot Priest” from Fleabag, Andrew Scott). Unsurprisingly, he’s a snobbish, pretentious, self-obsessed asshole — but in a funny way, like how he’s upset his wife didn’t honor their marriage vows by sticking by his side after he cheated on her, or how he has to argue with people on Letterboxd because “armchair criticism will be the death of cinema,” or how he can’t film the commercial at the location they’ve scouted due to the village’s “malaise.” 

But he’s handsome and successful. Temporarily, at least, offsets enoug of his other shortcomings to convince Jessica to have sex with him. Meanwhile, Polly makes a similar play for Felix’s affections, harkening back to their first mindblowing time having sex together and the way she saved his life at the worst of his addiction struggles. 

It’s love that saves the day, even though neither Felix nor even Jessica says it this time. After Felix freezes when Polly tries to kiss him (a familiar move from this guy), she asks if he loves Jessica, and his non-verbal non-answer tells you all you need to know. 

Meanwhile, Jim interrupts his unbelievably bad dirty-talk game (he tells her to say “direct me!” to him in a Betty Boop voice) with a sudden outpouring of “I love you”s clearly meant not for Jessica but for his estranged wife. Jess makes the decision for them and calls it a night, grabbing an uber home right away. During the ride she gets her sister to relate a sweet story about their dad singing Bob Dylan around the house, perhaps providing her with that male role model she’s been worried she lacked since his death. For a sweet moment, anyway.

It all comes full circle when she makes it to Polly’s and screams for Felix to come out to talk to her. (“There’s a bell,” he points out.) She invites him to move in, which he agrees to do provided she come to him, not her phone, with her problems with him from now on. 

Now get this: That’s exactly what she does! We catch up with them some time later at her apartment, where she’s just wrapping up telling him the whole Zev story. Her conclusion isn’t even “please tell me how bad that guy sucked,” it’s “please understand this my instincts are so screwy because I have all this bottled-up anger at him with no place to go but the wrong directions.” Since music is his outlet, he shows Jess how it works vicariously, by strumming on his guitar while she sings her way through Kesha’s cathartic poison-pen letter to her abuser, “Praying.”

Meanwhile, we even get a little tour of how all our other couples, happy and otherwise, are faring. Jonno is guiding his wife Ann through a crisis of conscience over locking their Irish wolfhound in the garden. Boss is sharing a surprisingly tender moment with Raven (Antonio Aakeel), the coworker he hooked up with through a cocaine-based dating app but was too gakked to perform with. Kim and Josie finally hook up. Jessica’s mom Lois gets home from a hot date with her bad-boy juvenile-delinquent boyfriend from high school, Dane (Nigel Witmey), to comfort her other daughter Nora, who’s bedridden with depression after the breakup with Jameson. I guess we don’t see how Zev and Wendy are doing, but honestly good riddance.

It’s hard to imagine this is the end of Jessica’s trauma and neurosis surrounding relationships and men. In particular, it seems likely there are many difficult feelings moving in together will trigger that haven’t come up yet. The fact that we have yet to hear an “I love you/I love you too” from the pair is a worrisome sign, especially since Jessica managed but Felix didn’t. He doesn’t even tell Polly he loves Jessica, let alone Jessica herself, even though it’s plain that he does.

But man, when director Lena Dunham (who co-wrote this episode with Collier Meyerson) cuts to the inside of Jessica’s apartment and it becomes clear she’s finally admitting, both to herself and to someone important to her that her anger with Zev is a real problem for her, I literally jumped in my seat. That’s a damn breakthrough is what it is, and it’s one neatly set up right there in the very first scene. 

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.