Shrinking Recap: Grieve Hard

Three episodes in, Jimmy is convinced his new and unconventional therapy methods are paying off. Sure, his overfamiliarity with his patients led to an altercation that left him with a black eye and Sean with yet another assault charge, but that’s behind them. In fact, Jimmy has only steered harder into the skid, inviting Sean to crash at their pool house as long as he needs. Right up until the episode’s final scene, Jimmy has at least two successful case studies to point to: Alan and Grace. Thanks to his spontaneous interference during a first date, Jimmy convinces the former to let down his braggadocious front and introduce the real Alan, leading to a second date. Grace is a bigger success story; since leaving her husband as Jimmy insisted, she has begun to let go of some of her people-pleasing tendencies.

Of course, the final scene reveals the truth: Not only is Grace lying about living with her sister in Vancouver, but she’s lying about having left her husband. Still, even if Jimmy’s recent change of methodology were as effective as he thinks, it’s clear he’s only putting so much effort into his patients to distract from his pain. It’s like Paul says: Jimmy may believe that he has been grieving Tia for too long, but in reality he hasn’t been healing at all. He’s been more concerned with numbing — first with sex, drugs, and alcohol, and now with his latest work project. He needs to slow down and start letting himself feel.

Paul teaches both Jimmy and Alice the same therapeutic exercise he uses when he gets overwhelmed: Turn on a sad song and feel the full force of your sadness for 15 minutes. When Jimmy has the awful idea to try it out during a bike ride, he ends up yelling, “Fuck you, Phoebe Bridgers!” and flips over a car door. The whole scene almost feels reverse engineered from that punchline, although I might’ve liked a more personal choice for Jimmy’s song since Alice used “I Know the End” already. The real comedic highlight is when the car’s driver immediately asks, “How are you already crying so hard?”

At least Jimmy is slowly learning what matters and reconnecting with his daughter, finally reaching a small breakthrough when she joins him to quietly share a frozen pizza for dinner. I like the show’s restraint in maintaining some coolness between the two; there should be something to work toward, and for now, it’s nice to see them sharing some company. Jason Segel nails Jimmy’s barely disguised glee at the prospect of growing closer, setting a hand on Alice’s shoulder before retracting it with a resigned “Yes, I know” after she tells him it’s too much.

Shrinking’s depiction of loss tends to ring true, and this story is no different. In the year since Tia died, Alice has processed her grief more productively than her dad, but the pain still bubbles to the surface at unexpected moments. When Sean throws out a plant that used to belong to her mom, for example, Alice is surprised by her own visceral anger. Later, when she laughs at a ridiculous sex joke from a friend, the sensation clearly feels unusual to her, like a relic from before the loss that changed everything. It’s downright guilt inducing, but Alice knows she needs to just keep working through those impulses. She deserves to post smiling selfies like any teenager.

“Fifteen Minutes” continues the work of building out Shrinking’s ensemble, setting aside therapy scenes in favor of exploring the coping mechanisms of the therapists themselves. Paul is coming from a place of pride at first when he swiftly dismisses Gaby’s idea to drive him to work every morning so he doesn’t have to drive with his Parkinson’s. He even retakes the driving assessment to ensure he’s technically safe to drive. In the end, though, he backs down, agreeing to carpool. He can be stubborn, but he knows when to accept help.

By the end of the episode, Paul is ignoring Jimmy’s calls, angry and unsure of what to do after learning about Jimmy’s tenant. But we know their reconciliation is inevitable because this whole ensemble is starting to resemble an extended support system. Like Liz, Paul has been there for Alice when Jimmy hasn’t. And it turns out Tia and Gaby were best friends, with Jimmy more often the third wheel than an actual close friend of Gaby in his own right.

The subplot of Gaby dealing with her impending divorce is a little simplistic, with some cliché beats; I’m not sure this needed to be a secret she was concealing, and Jimmy’s outsize reaction feels a bit … well, outsize, even considering the obvious projection that Paul calls out. But the story allows for one of the sweetest Jimmy-Gaby moments yet, when Jimmy reminds her she can’t fixate on the possibility of Nico bottoming out again because of her; she needs to live for herself. It’s a nice ending, with Jimmy and Brian both pivoting smoothly from celebrating the death of a friend’s marriage to mourning it.

Guilt is a common theme in this episode; Alice is uncomfortable with the feeling of moving on, and Gaby worries about the effects of leaving such a serious and meaningful relationship. But maybe the most interesting and satisfying emotional beat of the episode for me is the moment when Gaby feels reticent to bring up her own pain over losing Tia. Divorce story line aside, it’s genuinely moving to see Jimmy acknowledge that Gaby lost someone a year ago, too, proving that he can be there for her as a friend even if his own sorrow ostensibly “outweighs” hers. Shrinking can sometimes be a little corny, but those moments of truth and connection make it worthwhile so far.

Progress Notes

• I’m pretty meh on the “Karen” scene, honestly.

• A funny line delivery from Heidi Gardner, especially toward the end: “I’ve completely stopped doing things to make anyone else happy … which isn’t true at all, because I just said that to make you happy. I’m sorry, and I’ll probably send you a sorry card.”

• And a perfect sarcastic delivery from Harrison Ford: “Makes sense. Divorce is always hardest on the co-workers.”

• “I have resting dead-wife face.”

• I anticipate having more to say about this in upcoming recaps, but I’m still not sure where I land on Liz. She’s basically the nosy neighbor archetype, but it feels like everyone’s reactions to her are a bit overblown.

• This week in Segel physical comedy, a nice throwaway moment: Jimmy starts to raise his drink to his lips while asking, “How’s he doing with his sobriety?” only to set it back down when he remembers what they’re talking about.

• Is there really a perception that peeing before bed is only an old-person thing?