Just Like Swans, “Hacks” Mate For Life
Spoilers for the series finale of “Hacks” ahead.
"Hacks" hasn’t been in my life for very long. I only started watching it last September, the morning after Hannah Einbinder won her Emmy and famously smouldered at the camera before declaring “Go Birds, Fuck ICE, Free Palestine,” into the mic. Instantly I was struck with the sense of love at first sight that precedes every great celebrity crush.
Jean Smart holds Deborah Vance’s swan-themed salt and pepper shakers.
I inhaled the show in the two weeks that followed the Emmy’s, and despite it being so new, it felt so comfortable to me, as if the story was waiting with open arms to take me in its embrace for four whole years. I immediately saw myself in Hannah’s portrayal of Ava Daniels, who starts the series as a mid-twenties dropout struggling to find work as a writer. One thing about Ava Daniels that the show will not let you forget, is that she is a self-identified bisexual. This meant a lot to me, as a queer woman starting yet another pride month still in identity limbo, to see Ava be proudly bisexual but still primarily pursue other women. Oftentimes in media with bi female characters, you see the opposite. I mention her bisexuality and lean toward female partners because it is, at least in my opinion, integral to understanding the amorphous blob of affection and messiness that is her and Deborah Vance’s relationship.
The finale presents you with their relationship, front and center, even with some scenes paralleling the way the show started. Deborah reveals Chekov’s cancerous mass to Ava, (previously mentioned and successfully hidden well in the fan service episode featuring fake dating and a full, enthusiastic kiss between the two women), and refuses chemo, wanting to go out on her own terms. She mentions an assisted suicide place in Germany, somewhere she can peacefully put herself to rest after a Parisian vacation she wants Ava to be there for. At first, she refuses, but right before Deborah boards the plane, Ava is there, rolly bag and condition to do hard drugs in hand.
Over the course of the trip, the assisted suicide lingers behind every precious moment, shadowing every little touristy thing to the point where Ava can’t enjoy it anymore. This culminates in an argument in the middle of the episode that will surely give Jean and Hannah one more Emmy, or at the very least a nomination, each. But at the end of the day, this argument reinforces one of Deborah's biggest faults - she has to be in control of her own narrative. From the very beginning to the bittersweet end, it is clear that Deborah is scarred by the media painting her as the bitter arsonist ex-wife. As a hack comedian. Just like in life, Deborah wants to control the narrative of her death. She doesn't want to be remembered as sickly or frail. Deborah Vance can never display weakness.
Ava Daniels (Hannah Einbinder) wears her swan baseball cap while trying to acquire a venue for Deborah Vance (Jean Smart). “The Garden,” (5×9), “Hacks.”
But in a moment that breaks the argument, Ava tearfully begs “Please don’t leave me,” a sentence that echoes throughout all five seasons of their tumultuous relationship. Deborah gets emotional, but doesn’t budge, and Ava leaves, going off to pray for seemingly the very first time in her adult life.
It isn’t the prayer that saves Deborah, though. When Ava has finally accepted Deborah’s choice, they share a meal, and Deborah starts joking about the worst things about being dead that she can’t appreciate because she isn’t alive. It’s this riffing with Ava, pulling jokes out of the air between them in this beautiful moment that Deborah decides she has more to live for after all. Because what has her life been, if not creating and laughing with the girl in front of her? The writers pull off an incredible parallel to the first ever episode, where Deborah chases Ava down her driveway with a pitch for a better joke than the one Ava presented to her. “Sending your son to the woods with a bunch of other horny, gay teens, the only thing you’re gonna convert him to is a top from a bottom. That’s the better joke!” In the final episode, Ava is trying to board their train in time, with Deborah taking a moment to soak in her decision to live. Deborah eventually catches up, pushing through a crowd and pitching the last joke of the series- “The worst part about dying is that I can’t even enjoy being bone thin. That’s the better joke.”
There is a soul-tethered connection they have that transcends the definition of platonic or romantic. Deborah and Ava are two hearts that cannot laugh without the other, therefore they are two hearts that cannot beat without the other - and that is the most earnest, beautiful portrayal of female relationships we have received on TV this decade.
Like Deborah’s swan-themed salt and pepper shakers, like Ava’s swan-themed baseball cap, whether romantic partners or best friends – hacks mate for life.
