Spoilers ahead.
There was something utterly heartbreaking about every single 2008 scene in this episode.
It’s not surprising, really. With everything that’s happened in Language and Speech, this was bound to be another emotional episode. Between Simon and Emily getting Rosie’s test scores and Simon’s conversation with his father, the future didn’t look promising. And yet, watching it onscreen, seeing them grow apart and feeling their pain over everything… it was more heartbreaking than I thought it would be.
I know I can’t even begin to imagine how painful and heartbreaking these times were in real life, but some of it, at least – a tiny fraction of it, probably – made it onscreen in this episode. There She Goes‘ habit of speaking the truth – without hiding or making things better or trying to be politically correct – comes through, particularly in moments like this. And in 2008, that truth was painful.
Admittedly, I’m still struggling to see Simon’s point of view, at least in those early days. Maybe it’s because I’m an outsider looking in, and maybe it’s because I really don’t know what it’s like, but things seem significantly clearer to me than they are to him. To be more precise, I find myself thinking that I’d love to knock some sense into him quite a bit. (On that note, Helen’s and Emily’s observations about him seem absolutely spot on.)
That said, I can certainly feel – not to mention relate to – his own pain, particularly in that fight. Up until that moment, this week’s Simon seemed a lot more like Early Series 1 Simon (distanced and somewhat self-centred) than the Simon we saw last week. But in that fight he finally let Emily – and us – in again. His own pain, both over his broken childhood home and the home he feels he’s losing, came through loud and clear. Honestly? That broken, desperate ‘Why can’t we be those people again?’ had me crying my eyes out. I’m even crying writing about it. That’s how deeply I feel it.
Emily’s perspective, on the other hand, feels somewhat more familiar to me. At least when it comes to depression and hopelessness. To me, these are the moments in which There She Goes truly shines. The honesty in which it’s written and Jessica Hynes’ incredible acting made it feel more like reality than like a scripted drama on telly. There’s something about the way Emily says, ‘No, Si, we were happy‘ that is utterly heartbreaking; something about the pain and longing that makes it almost too painful to watch. You can feel her pain even in the detached, hopeless way in which she talks about Simon. It’s that same detachment of a person who feels they’ve already lost everything, and they can’t quite handle the pain of it. And it’s absolutely accurate.
But luckily, with There She Goes, it’s not the end of the story. That’s part of the beauty of the show – just how hopeful it is. Things do get better. Even with all of the pain life has to offer, there’s always hope for a better future. In that, the show’s dual timeline is accurate to life; the joy and the pain are always intertwined. I doubt in 2008 either Emily or Simon could imagine that there would come a day in which they’ll celebrate President’s Day with Rosie, and yet… here we are. Admittedly, not because of any real interest in the U.S. or in President’s Day itself… but I think that’s just focusing on the minor details.
Again, I can’t quite decide what I loved more in the 2017 scenes. The way Simon tried to give Rosie a Christmas-y feel – from the dough balls to the Christmas crackers – was absolutely adorable. Emily’s nerdy side coming out again was wonderful (and if I might add, very relatable). And of course, seeing the family more relaxed and together was not only good, but necessary. Especially seeing how close they were to falling apart. Even the frustration of trying to explain to Rosie that ‘no, it’s not Christmas‘ was a laugh, although I doubt it feels like it in real life. Perhaps in retrospect. And there are very few things that are as beautiful as David Tennant portraying a father; that scene with Ben, telling him he’s happy with his family and promising that there’s no more shouting? Simply beautiful. (Yes, I know it was in 2008, but it was too beautiful not to mention.)
But if I had to pick one the one thing I loved the most about this episode, it would have to be Rosie. In particular, Rosie’s insistence on celebrating Christmas and the intelligence with which she’d tried to make it Christmas. I love how even though she has a severe learning disability, she’s not slow or stupid; these are terms people often mix up, and it’s only through showing the perspective of those with disabilities that people can understand it’s not the same. With someone like Rosie, it can be difficult for people to tell there’s a difference, but not in the show; at times it’s clear she’s just as bright as the rest of her family, albeit in a very different way. Even her attempt at making snow – while undoubtedly frustrating for her parents – shows just how much she has in her.
And you know what? Maybe that’s the true magic of There She Goes. The honesty with which it tells the whole story. Not just the painful; not just the joyous; and certainly not just Emily’s or Simon’s or Rosie. It’s a little bit of everything. And it’s right just as it is.
So to sum up? I loved it. It was emotional and real and funny and painful and thoughtful, all within a space of half an hour. It was There She Goes. And with these two first episode, I can’t wait to see what the rest of the series has in store. (I do hope there’s not a lot more of David Tennant crying, though; I’m not sure how much more of that I can handle on a weekly basis. Especially with how I’ve cried just in the first two episodes.)