Maturity is the theme of “Nostalgic Sex Buddy,” last night’s Maron morsel on IFC. On the surface, it seems like such a theme would represent more of the same—these are the kinds of issues the show has dealt with since its pilot. I’ve been critical of the show the last few weeks because at times it has felt like we’re dealing with the same material as usual (companionship, aging, et al.), but in less interesting ways. As Marc’s relationships (with Jen and his cat, Boomer) failed, he spiraled deeper into disconnectedness, but once there, the only thing he had to say seemed to be that bad times are bad. And they were.
But in “Nostalgic Sex Buddy,” Marc retraces his steps, finding himself back at a series of familiar forks that have defined the show when it’s at its best. When and why are we supposed to care? Is caring a young man’s game, or an old soul’s folly? And what happens when you care, and others don’t?
All of this stems from the best podcast guest appearance in the series’ history, Caroline Rhea. Maron and Rhea have a nice chemistry on screen and on tape, and after Marc’s failed attempt at friendship with Ray Romano a few weeks ago, it’s nice to see him getting along with someone his own age for once. If anything, it seems like chumming it up with Rhea reminds Marc that experience—in life, love, and perhaps the bedroom—is a valuable commodity. For the first time in a long time, it feels like he’s acting like himself.
Since the series began, I’ve taken issue with the ways in which many of the podcast cameos are handled, so letting a guest stick around once the garage door opens (Kyle’s obligatory awkward photo must’ve come pre-show), and play a larger role in the story is a welcome change. And with Marc clearing out Jen’s makeup products, flowers, and photos—her “toys,” he jokes—he’s excited to spend some time with Rhea, a former flame.
This doesn’t end up being essential to the plot of the episode, but Rhea and Marc’s argument about whether he’d be a serviceable father is well-constructed enough to examine briefly. Rhea’s a mom, and she laughs as Marc defends his baby bonafides, but what I think is most fascinating is that, ultimately, they’re both right. The sum of Marc’s parts—his big heart, cleanliness, and the like—suggest someone mature and ready for fatherhood. But the heart is mostly devoted to cats, and the thought of a child messing with one of Maron’s vintage guitars would cause a podcast riot. So, I guess, he’s mostly focusing on being a father to himself—a petulant child and the world’s greatest dad at once.
The show often deals in dichotomies, but this week Marc sits somewhere near the middle with regard to the primary issue. He’s not “in love with Rhea,” but he’s also not the detached pragmatist she seems to be once they have sex. Her matter-of-factness, which once seemed like a panacea for Jen’s drama, turns out to unnerve him just as much, in part because it’s too easy. There’s no build-up. No suspense. No…foreplay.