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Ashtyn Miller | Arts & Entertainment | April
Photo sourced from TVInsider
A few months ago I was scrolling through my phone, desperately trying to find something to watch. For what seemed like hours I clicked through show after show, but nothing seemed interesting enough. That’s when I stumbled upon Fleabag. I don’t know what it was (the odd title, unfiltered description, or unique trailer), but something stuck out to me. I hit play and was exposed to possibly the best piece of media I have ever consumed. Fleabag is dark, emotional, witty, and so deeply human. On top of the amazing writing and star-studded cast, Phoebe Waller-Bridge implements fourth wall breaks to draw the audience in even closer. You truly feel as if you are living inside the show. In its two seasons, I believe Fleabag achieves more than most shows do in five or more seasons. It’s truly a great and massively under-appreciated series.
*Disclaimer: Before you continue reading, please take a couple things into consideration. One, there will be spoilers ahead. Two, there will be mentions of sensitive and/or adult topics. Please use your best discretion.
In episode one, we are introduced to Fleabag, a chaotic and self-destructive woman living in London. She is in a relationship with a man called Harry, which is basically a long-term situationship. They break up and reunite frequently, with this episode being no exception to the pattern. Fleabag seizes the opportunity and decides to date around for a few days. This cycle continues for much of season one, introducing us to a wide variety of very interesting men.
We also meet Fleabag’s older sister Claire, who is the complete opposite of Fleabag. Whereas Fleabag is clumsy and very “Type B,” Claire is meticulous and controlling. She lives a seemingly perfect life from the outside; being a successful lawyer with a loving husband and stepson. The audience soon finds out that not all is sunshine and rainbows for Claire. Her husband, Martin, is inappropriate and childish, her stepson is clingy, and she struggles under the weight of her job. Fleabag is the only person truly clued in on Claire’s struggles, and this is what makes their relationship so special. Despite their clear personality differences, they have a deep understanding of each other.
Another character that seems to haunt the narrative is Fleabag’s dead best friend Boo. We learn early on that Boo died walking into traffic, but her true motive is shielded from us by Fleabag. Clearly, something nefarious happened, and Fleabag is guilty to some degree. After Boo’s death, Fleabag is left to run their failing guinea pig themed cafe all by herself. She also is left to take care of the guinea pig she got Boo: Hilary. Interestingly, Fleabag seems to use her care of Hilary (among many other unhealthy coping methods) as a way to escape from the guilt she feels about Boo’s death. We eventually learn at the end of season one that Fleabag slept with Boo’s boyfriend, which causes Boo to spiral. She comes to the conclusion that, in order to earn her boyfriend’s affection back, she’ll walk into traffic and injure herself. Obviously that backfired, and Fleabag is left to deal with the consequences.
Much of season one revolves around Fleabag’s messy life and the ways in which she tries to cope. She avoids her dad because she is uncomfortable around her stepmom (Which, by the way, I can’t blame her. Her stepmother is a very unpleasant woman who swooped in and began dating her father right after her mother’s death). She also avoids a concrete relationship because commitment scares her, and, to some degree, she feels that she does not deserve one. It seems that her life is one blunder after another. Part of you feels bad for her, but it also seems that she brings a lot of her troubles onto herself.
Season two starts off with a very emotionally charged scene. Fleabag is out to eat with Claire, her parents, Martin, and her parent’s priest (who is set to wed them in a few months). In the middle of the meal Claire gets up to use the bathroom, and we find out that she has miscarried. Fleabag, sensing that something is wrong, follows her to the bathroom. After cleaning an oddly emotionless Claire up, they return to the table. Everyone at the table is relentlessly questioning their absence. Fleabag can see that all the questions are beginning to upset Claire and decides to help in the most Fleabag way possible. How is that? She claims that she had miscarried in the bathroom (not Claire). Martin proceeds to say completely awful things about women who miscarry, completely unaware of his wife’s situation. Again, deciding to help, Fleabag punches Martin in the face. This prompts a brawl to break out between the two in the middle of the restaurant.
Fleabag after the dinner brawl
Photo sourced from Refinery29
The Priest is a very complex character. Whereas most priests seem pious and untempted, The Priest seems very human. He cusses and drinks. He has an imperfect family and, most importantly, he questions his faith. His “flawed” nature is ultimately what attracts Fleabag to him, and vice versa. Fleabag sees him as an attractive and deep individual. He not only satisfies her physical desires, but he also allows her to open up in a way that she can’t with anyone else. He is literally the only person to notice her fourth wall breaks for goodness sake. The Priest, however, sees Fleabag as something he can save. In a way, he views Fleabag an incarnation of all his temptations and desires. By leading her towards God he is inadvertently cleansing himself of his sins.
Throughout the season we see The Priest’s desires weighing on his conscience. The only way to relieve this tension is to shield himself with God. Every interaction with Fleabag is laced with a reminder of his calling. Loaned bibles, hand-selected verses, and theological lessons all build silent barriers between this forbidden romance. And it kills Fleabag. The only man she’s ever loved and he can’t commit.
Love, as they say, always prevails, and so too does it for Fleabag and The Priest. In an emotionally charged scene inside a confessional booth, Fleabag spills her heart out. She wishes someone would tell her what to wear, what to eat, what to love and what to hate. Basically, she feels that she is getting life wrong. After a brief silence, The Priest tells Fleabag to kneel. He then, in a moment of emotional intensity, walks around and kisses Fleabag.
The Priest and Fleabag sharing a drink
Photo sourced from BBC
This, I believe, is one of the most important moments in the entire show. It marks a major emotional turning point for both characters. Fleabag, for one, has finally stopped using humor to deflect from emotional connection and actually opened up. The kneeling especially signifies this, as it demonstrates her ability to submit to someone else instead of being entirely self-reliant. The Priest too goes through a major transformation. For so long he has believed that he is alone in his feeling of unworthyness. Fleabag’s monologue shows him that he has an equal. That someone else is a tormented human seeking solace. He finds this redemption through his servitude to God, while Fleabag finds it in him (a “divine proxy” of sorts). While their dependency on each other comes from different places, it ultimately serves to be a judgement free zone of vulnerability.
The moment does not last long as guilt begins to wash over the Priest. He backs away from Fleabag and kicks her out of the church, telling her to never come back again. Fleabag is, once again, left heartbroken and confused. Another misfortune for the unfortunate girl. She reverts back to her old ways of flings and one night stands. Obviously, she is not meant for meaningful emotional connection.
That is until she hears a knock at her door. She expects to open the door to that night’s random companion, but is instead met with The Priest. At first he claims that he is there to apologize for their last meeting. It quickly becomes clear that he wants more, and again his carnal desires take over. He and Fleabag spend the night and morning together; all previous guilt seeming forgotten.
They meet later that day at the wedding of Fleabag’s father and stepmother. Sharing a passionate kiss before the ceremony, all seems well in the land of “Fleabag and The Priest”. That is until The Priest gives his homily. He talks about the difficulty of love, how it makes you selfish and cruel, and how it’s something you can’t do alone. On the surface it’s a beautifully written speech about the importance of loving the right people, but the underlying message tells Fleabag all she needs to know about the future of their relationship.
At the end of the night The Priest finds Fleabag sitting at a bus stop and sits down. A few long seconds of silence follows before she asks, “It’s God, isn’t it?” The Priest agrees, he has chosen a relationship with God over a relationship with Fleabag. Despite his decision, Fleabag tells him that she loves him. Before he can respond, she tells him to, “let it sit there”. Again she says it, more confidently. A moment of silence follows, and in the most sincere and heartfelt voice, she tells him one last time, “I love you”. He stares at her, takes her hand, and drops one of the most devastating lines in all of cinema: “It’ll pass”.
The Priest leaves, and Fleabag sits in tears. She has lost the love of her life for the last time. That’s when a fox appears. Earlier in the series, The Priest had mentioned how he saw foxes as the symbol for all his internal struggles. Fleabag sees the fox, remembers its symbolism, and tells it, “He went that way,”. In this moment she recognizes that The Priest is still a human, plagued by mortal troubles. That realization is the final piece of growth that Fleabag needs. She stands up, walks away, and leaves us, the audience behind. She no longer needs us anymore. She can live on her own now.
Ultimately, Fleabag is a story about what it means to be human. What it means to make mistakes, and how to forgive yourself. What it means to be vulnerable, even when it’s hard. What it means to love, and how it’s never a waste. Fleabag can make you laugh, cry, scream, and cringe all in one episode. It is the epitome of the human experience wrapped into two magnificent seasons. It is perfect.
Painting of the "It'll Pass" scene
Photo sourced from Reddit
Ashtyn Miller, Arts and Entertainment Editor
Ashtyn Miller, Arts and Entertainment Editor
Ashtyn Miller is a reporter for The Courier. This is her first year on staff. She hopes to strengthen her writing skills and become more comfortable making her writing public.
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