Six weeks into Another Period’s first season, viewers have been treated to Helen Keller (Shoshannah Stern), Mark Twain (Rich Fulcher) and Dr. Sigmund Freud (Chris Parnell), among others, each portrayed by a comedian using what we know now to exaggerate the person’s life then. This week finds Charles Ponzi entering the fray. Played by Ben Stiller, who is also one of the show’s producers, Ponzi arrives to seduce Lillian once again (the two were engaged at the height of Lillian’s sexuality aka the ripe old age of eleven) and secure her family’s money for his infamous scheme.
In an earlier interview, Stiller praised the show’s ability to blend period drama tropes with reality show structures for comedic effect. He also admitted underneath that smart tone the show can be “really stupid at times.” Read into his language however you like, but “stupid” here doesn’t denote a bad thing.
Another Period is goofy at heart, never afraid to be absolutely ridiculous in order to underscore a point. It’s true that sometimes a bit is stupid without further purpose. But more often than not, the show serves up an overwhelming sense of the ridiculous in order to provide biting commentary about life in the early 1900’s, especially when it comes to women’s place and power. How else could it get away with a running storyline involving incest, an episode about a servant being ravished against his will, and Lillian’s being fingered with “romance powder” aka cocaine? If Another Period took itself too seriously (in a comedic sense), these things wouldn’t work and internet detractors would roast the show for its seemingly callous approach to many a touchy topic.
“Lillian’s Birthday” launches on that very ridiculous note with the birthday girl herself throwing a temper tantrum that would make a three-year-old blush. As Lillian, Natasha Leggero is an adept physical comedian when it comes to losing her shit. Her reaction sets the stage for what will be an utterly insane episode. In other words, just another week at the Bellacourt mansion.
Where to even begin? How about when Ponzi fingers Lillian with cocaine, causing her to exclaim, “I feel like I’m eleven again!” Stiller gives a long comedic pause before remarking, “No you don’t.” She’s aged, and he feels the difference. The whole scene could be immensely uncomfortable—in fact perhaps should be immensely uncomfortable—and yet because it relies so heavily on that stupid sensibility, Another Period gets away with it. The quick editing lets the joke land briefly, very briefly, before moving away from the problems inherent with the time period and its expectations surrounding women, sexuality and marriage.
Elsewhere in the mansion, Hortense learns she’s pregnant and undertakes two antiquated methods of aborting the fetus, one where Hamish (Brett Gelman) approaches her with a device out of the medieval era, and the other where she throws herself down the stairs. The show may not seem overtly feminist compared with other voices like Inside Amy Schumer, but by examining what life was like for women at the time and lambasting what little freedom they had (and in many ways still do), it brings a different kind of voice to the conversation. Each episode’s running commentary about things like “non-sons” (Lillian’s word for her offspring before she learns there’s a new term, “daughter”), provides a tongue-in-cheek, feminist approach to history.
Lastly, it’s time Garfield (Armen Weitzman) received some attention. After Mr. Peepers falls ill with a tuberculosis-type disease and the doctor prescribes “love” as the cure, Garfield pleads with the Bellacourts to help. He knows that if Peepers were to hear how they felt about him, he would recover. Of course, they’re not going to do that. A servant is a servant, and crossing into the bounds of appreciation seems absolutely absurd to each and every family member.
Instead, Garfield and Blanche set up the world’s creepiest puppet show with brooms and mops standing in as the Bellacourts. It works. Peepers survives. Weitzman may very well be one of the best things about Another Period. Despite Garfield’s having been ravished (raped) by a visiting female guest, and being assigned shudder-inducing tasks like the daily cleaning of Frederick’s balls, Weitzman plays him so sincerely as to draw humor not from sarcasm or irony or any other more complex form, but from a purity that induces equally deep laughs.
Amanda Wicks is a freelance writer specializing in comedy and music. Follow her on Twitter.