Hacks recap: Deb confronts cancel culture in the season’s penultimate episode

At this point in comedy history, “Yes, and…” is arguably the most overused aphorism in the book. Just hearing it conjures images of sweaty black boxes where even sweatier comedians blunder their way through the story of a bear who goes on a surfing vacation, and all of his friends are robots, and the robots have dildos for fingers. (Not that there isn’t a ton of great improv in the world! There’s just a lot more bad improv.)

But the penultimate episode of Hacks season three, which takes the aphorism as its title, asks us to consider it from a new angle. Yes, Marcus will always be grateful for the time he’s spent working for Deborah, and he’s ready to move on. Yes, Ava is a hot mess stumbling from disaster to disaster, and she’s a shrewd student of human nature who’s wise beyond her years. Yes, Deborah has a history of making wildly offensive jokes, and she’s a trailblazing female comedian who was the first person to get fined by the FCC for saying “abortion” on national TV. And yes, she has a tendency to dig her heels in, and she’s willing to learn from her past.

The Late Night desk is within reach; it’s down to her and the X Games guy, and Deb is scheduled to film a test show in a week. All she has to do is make it through a few more charm campaigns. Cake, right? Nope. Thanks to a scheduling gaffe (Kayla texted plumber Damien instead of personal assistant Damien), she’s double booked: She’s all set to fly to Berkeley to accept an honorary doctorate and get interviewed for a New Yorker profile. But she’s supposed to take her annual trip to Palm Springs Pride that same weekend to greet her OG fans—and launch House of Vance. Spurred on by a death glare from Marcus, Deb swears she’ll find a way to do both.

The vibes are very off as Deb and Ava stroll through the Berkeley campus with Meena Elahi (Shakira Barrera), who’s notorious for cutting her interview subjects down to size. Their awkward exchange is interrupted by two frat bros who recognize Deb and invite her to their house party because she’s “mad cute.”

In the dining hall, Meena grills Ava about Deb’s reputation for bullying her underlings. “She has high standards. But if you meet those standards, she’ll take care of you.” Ava’s response is a testament to how much she and Deb have grown over the years (a far cry from that time she spilled the tea to those gossip-hungry British TV writers).

Things are definitely going too well, so it’s time for the other shoe to drop. On her way back from the unlimited cereal bar, Ava spies a group of students huddled around an iPhone watching a viral supercut of the many, many racist, sexist, ableist, fat-phobic jokes Deb told back in the day. It’s bad—like, “widespread protests of the honorary degree ceremony” bad.

Deb is predictably annoyed and self-righteous about the whole thing, especially after Ava advises her to apologize and take responsibility for her mistakes. “You never apologize for a joke,” the older woman shoots back boomerishly. “I’m a comedian! I was just doing my job!”

This defense is, of course, endemic in the standup world. Comedians from Joan Rivers to Shane Gillis have soft-pedaled—or just plain refused to say sorry for—their dated, offensive material. So it’s not a surprise that Hacks is covering this ground; Deborah was well overdue for her Lydia Tár moment. She decides that the best strategy is to ignore the haters and shore up her Gen-Z fan base—at least, the portion involved in Berkeley’s frat and improv scenes.

After the improv show, during which Deb ever-so-smoothly shifts from the topic of pineapples to pediatric AIDS, it’s Animal House time. Of course Deb feels perfectly at home in this literal boys’ club, doing keg stands and getting down with Ava to the Coi Leray’s “Players.” But her escapism is interrupted by a call from Jimmy: The network has canceled Deborah’s test show without offering a reason why.

As usual, the strongest scene of the episode is a Smart-Einbinder two-hander—this time in some bro’s rank, dimly lit bedroom. Deb goes ballistic, lobbing stinkers like “liberal mob” and “I can’t be woke; I’m exhausted!” Ava reminds her boss that she’s not the only victim here, and that the backlash isn’t “a value judgment on your entire being.” When her writing assistant drops the C-bomb (“canceled”), Smart delivers a heartbreaking monologue that cuts to the root of Deborah’s desperation:

“I was canceled before there was even a name for it. They only gave it a name after it started happening to powerful men. The problem is, I don’t have the time to go to Europe and wait it out!” Her voice breaks when she adds, calling back to that day in the Pennsylvania backcountry, “I don’t have any time.”

The last nail in the coffin comes when Berkeley cancels Deb’s degree ceremony. Defeated, she calls Marcus to tell him she can’t make it to Pride after all—and he finally reaches his limit. “I want you to hear me, but of course you don’t, ’cause you don’t fucking listen,” he says with uncharacteristic viciousness. It’s this admonishment from her usually stoic right-hand man that finally reaches her.

With her CEO’s words fresh in her mind, Deb subjects herself to a student town hall about her garbage takes. With Ava and Meena watching on, she issues a brief apology for her shitty jokes, then sits down and listens.

Marcus’ weekend isn’t going much better. From his poolside perch in a scene-y Palm Springs party house, he passes his days downing cocktails and putting out both personal and professional fires. He has to talk down House of Vance attendees who are peeved that Deb isn’t there to sign their memorabilia, fields a call from Jimmy warning that the company may have to ditch QVC if they get the talk show, and has a drunken one-night stand with an ass-tattooed fanboy who tries to steal Deb’s phone number while Marcus is asleep.

While stewing over his thankless job, Marcus encounters Reggie (Tim Bagley), one of the “Little Debbies” he met at the activation. But this one’s a gentleman: When Marcus delivers the news that Deb won’t be gracing them with her presence, Reggie is the opposite of angry. “You can’t stop being a fan now that she’s got more of them. We loved her before anybody else did, and she loved us before anybody else did. That’s not nothing. We just have to share her now.”

It’s a reminder to both Marcus and the audience that, for all of Deborah’s blind spots, she’s always been an icon for and fierce advocate of her gay fans. (That pediatric AIDS charity she was bragging about earlier? It’s not just a PR move.) Marcus knows that his role at the head of Deb’s empire has given him the life he’s (marginally) enjoying now. But when Reggie tells him that “sometimes, good things come from letting go,” he leaves a voicemail for the QVC guy about that job offer.

Back at Vance Manor, Ava is reading the published New Yorker article to Deborah and the corgis. To their surprise, Meera has cast her in the kindest light possible, under the circumstances. The piece hinges on a quote from Ava herself that’s a reverse of her memorable insult from the season-one finale: “A hack is someone who does the same thing over and over. Deborah is the opposite—she keeps evolving and getting better.”

But then—disaster! Kayla has made good on her terrible idea to Tweet that Deb’s gotten the big gig, regardless of whether or not it’s actually true. The woman of the hour is irate until—a miracle! Jimmy pulls into the driveway with the news that she landed Late Night after all. The network only nixed the test show because Deb had already proved herself the night she guest hosted.

Deborah is engulfed in a bear hug from her entire dysfunctional chosen family (sans Marcus). Then, she shares a look with Ava that speaks to all the blood, sweat, tears, and venom they’ve both sunken into this dream. (Somehow, I have a feeling our girl won’t be returning to her office at On The Contrary.)

“Yes, And” falls short of Hacks excellence, particularly among the other episodes in this standout season. The timing of Deb’s scandal/honorary degree/job offer is a little too convenient, and her reaction to being canceled by America’s youth a little too predictable. (So is their reaction to her; a student’s lengthy complaint against Deborah at the town hall has the artificial sheen of the writers’ room.) But those beautifully teased-out scenes between Deborah and Ava, as well as Marcus and Reggie, make all the stumbling worth it.

Stray observations

• All the props to costume designer Kathleen Felix-Hager for that stunning white dress/black opera gloves combo Deborah wears in the cold open photo shoot. (Not to be shallow, but that mag spread alone should get her the Late Night spot.)
• Guest stars of the week: It was great to see GLOW alum Shakira Barrera as Meena, bringing nuance to what could have been a one-note character. And I fully cheered when Somebody Somewhere breakout Tim Bagley showed up. There isn’t an actor around who’s better at projecting benevolent wisdom—or delivering lines like “Would Deborah sign my bottle of fen-phen? I’ve had it since the ’90s from when she used to sell it.”
• There’s a fun running joke about Ava asking random college students if she looks like she could be their age—to which they all reply, “I have a girlfriend.” (Ava can’t ever score again after making out with Christina Hendricks. That’s just the law of equilibrium.)
• “Meena, I just wanted to say: I loved your piece about how white people have gentrified jokes about white people.”
• Though he had a meaty arc in season two, Marcus has mostly been chilling on the sidelines lately; so it was nice to see him get some screen time (and a side plot) this week.
• I didn’t know how much I needed to see Deb grimace her way through Zip, Zap, Zop and other overly earnest theater games; there’s nothing funnier than Jean Smart standing stock-still, surrounded by a pack of nerds pretending to be jungle animals.
• Given that there’s no news yet on whether Hacks is getting a renewal, was anyone else a little worried when Ava said the title of the series out loud? (It was giving me big “I call it…A Song of Ice And Fire” energy.)
• “Get me the info for that crisis PR woman I used when I groped Elmo!”