There are some shows that seem like a work of art, as if we are in the hands of the expert crafter. As I continue watching Barry, I become increasingly drawn into the complexity of the characters- their flaws, their edges. I am always aware of one particular dynamic, that of the relationship of the two primary characters, Barry and Sally. In the most recent episode, season 3 episode 5, written by Bill Hader and Alec Berg, they explore this dynamic while remaining in that pulsating space of dark, dark comedy.
Hader once said that he was frustrated by the show’s fans’ hatred of Sally and the sympathy toward Barry, so that was one of the reasons that in season three he attempted to make the character of Barry truly unredeemable.
He does so while not sacrificing any complexity to either character. Making a female character a real character doesn’t involve fierce, absolute strength, or total independence. Rather, like Sally, giving truth to a character means making their flaws known, and consequently their humanity. We are not supposed to believe Sally is perfect, or supremely good, yet there is so much life to her character that comes with growth and discomfort.
This episode might be the one in which Sally is at her strongest, in her willingness to put her safety before her desire to please others. She had spent months laboring over her new TV show, creating and starring in this series oriented around abuse. After only twelve hours on the streaming site, the producers defer to the algorithm and something called taste clusters and decide to pull the entire show.
She is devastated for a moment, and is comforted by her friend and assistant, who hitherto has condescended, but now that Sally is at her lowest, she is receptive to sympathy, and this moment is one of the most touching of the episode, in a show which possesses a surprising amount of sweetness among violence.
When she arrives home, Barry, whom she recently broke up with, is there inside the house. She begins venting to him about the cancellation of her show, and expresses her anger toward one of the female producers. Barry, attempting a version of honesty, suggests what he could to this woman, listing a series of actions in the realm of gaslighting, including replacing her dog with a slightly different dog, or changing her furniture with smaller furniture. Sally, who might have simply laughed him off in a few episodes prior, now is horrified, and tells Barry to get the fuck out, and repeats herself twice.
Barry is confused, not knowing quite what he did wrong. But now we see that Sally has a clear sense of self, and can stand up for herself. This change was earned, as we saw her change over time into someone who is able to speak a little louder, and break herself out of the confines of manipulation and abuse.
I am in awe of this show, especially how it can reveal so much about its characters through exquisite dialogue. I look forward to seeing more of Sally and Barry, in this dark and light, chiaroscuro story.
Peyton Harvey is a graduate of Columbia University's writing MFA program. Her publications include essays in The Fourth River, Sepia Quarterly, and received Reed Magazine's award for nonfiction. She is currently working on a hybrid memoir about the actress Liv Ullmann.
