Grace and Frankie Say Goodbye in a Hilarious, Yet Poignant Final Season
Photo by Suzanne Tenner, courtesy of Netflix
Part of what makes Grace and Frankie so great is how low stakes the characters’ hijinks feel—even if they happen to be smuggling drugs across the border—until suddenly there’s far more at risk. The final season of Netflix’s longest-running original series has all of the frothiness and fun of the previous seasons, with one figure casting its long shadow over the main characters: their mortality.
We always knew it would come to this; after all, Grace (Jane Fonda), Frankie (Lily Tomlin), Robert (Martin Sheen), and Sol (Sam Waterston) are octogenarians now. Part of what’s made the sitcom so powerful is its realistic, uncondescending representation of seniors. Grace and Frankie confronts the challenges of growing older, as your body and mind don’t work the way they once did, but also celebrates the rich lives of our protagonists. They have sex, commit crimes, love, lose, and love again. Beyond the realities of growing older, Season 7B also allows the characters—Grace, especially—to confront past trauma and the way it’s affected their current relationships. There’s real soul-searching here.
Just because the characters are more conscious of their mortality doesn’t mean they can’t have fun, though. Season 7B sets up so many farcical plotlines that it puts Frasier to shame (and how appropriate that Frasier alums Millicent Martin and Marsha Mason appear as Joan-Margaret and Arlene, respectively). Whether Brianna (June Diane Raphael) is rushing to stop Barry’s (Peter Cambor) parents seeing her nude photos, or Grace has to trick Nick’s parole officer while also landing a deal with a toilet manufacturer, there’s plenty of silliness to go around.
The writing is also as sharp as ever. Frankie’s throwaway one-liners are gold, and the subtle background jokes (like Sol casually tossing his fork over his shoulder as Frankie bemoans old people eating Asian food with forks rather than chopsticks) make every episode a joy to behold. The supporting players elevate small moments, particularly Martin as the impish secretary Joan-Margaret and Baron Vaughn as the put-upon Bud. Martin delivers every line with a mischievous glint in her eyes, ever the devil on Frankie’s shoulder. Vaughn perfectly walks the line of being the empathetic son of two hippies and an anxiety-ridden Type A eldest child, convinced he needs to do everything just so to keep those around him happy. And he’s just hilarious to boot.