One of the things I love to do at the end of a series is to go back and rewatch the pilot, see how the two connect or relate.
In the case of SHRILL, the pilot episode "Annie" is written by the same team of three writers who would write the finale, Aidy Bryant & Alexandra Rushfield & Lindy West. And it's a classic example of how to do a pilot for a single protagonist point of view series. The first ten minutes lay out most of the problems of Annie's life: forcing herself to eat diet food despite the fact that it tastes disgusting; a stranger telling her she owes it to herself to lose weight; other strangers telling her the first stranger was so fucked up but then going on to say she reminds them of Rosie O'Donnell; a job where she's so cowed by her own insecurity she can't muster the confidence to pitch an idea to her boss; a boyfriend, Ryan, who makes her sneak out the back when his friends show up (which also means her having to climb a fence in order to leave); and the discovery that the Day After pills she has been taking are not effective for women over a certain weight and she is now pregnant.
It's hard to believe you could present so much so fast in a believable way, and yet in fact the script works really well. By tying each of the issues Annie faces to the beats in her normal day's journeys, from home to the coffee shop to work to Ryan's house to the pharmacist, the writers keep everything feeling natural and organic.
And with that first 10 minute in hand, we have a clear sense not only of Annie's life but the direction of the series. This is a show about someone no one really sees deciding finally to be seen and heard. And true to form, the rest of the pilot sets that story in motion, with Annie dumping Ryan and demanding to write a story for her boss.
That second scene is particularly great, in that it's not as simple as her going back in to see him and asking for what she wants. His default is dismissal and disinterest, which is 100% her kryptonite. And so to get what she wants she has to repeatedly push through her politeness and inhibitions and insecurity and literally refuse to take no as an answer. It's a perfect example of how to make a character win feel truly earned.
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The pilot ends on a call back to the fitness coach from the beginning who told her she owed it to herself to lose weight. It seems like it's going to be that moment in the hero's journey where we see how much the heroine has changed and grown. When the coach pressures her to get fit again, Annie quietly tells her to fuck off.
But then she backs off when asked what she said. And the coach, who until this point was nothing but earnestness and "concern", now calls her a "fat bitch". Which on the one hand makes clear, Annie's struggles are anything but over. This heroine is nowhere near the end of her journey.
And yet at the same time, as the camera holds on her face as she walks on, her expression shifts slowly from repressed rage and shame to a quiet kind of confidence. The world may still be a piece of shit place, and she may still have a lot of room to grow, but she is indeed different than the woman we met thirty minutes ago.
It's a brilliant, powerful ending.
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So on its own, lots of good stuff to consider here. But then looking at the pilot from the point of view of the finale, what's also interesting is the way in which Annie and Fran's friendship is presented as the place of truth and support that enables them to take big steps forward.
In the pilot the focus is mostly on Annie, who sits with Fran at this rummage sale talking about why she'd consider having Ryan's baby despite how awful he is, how she never thought she'd ever have the chance to have someone's baby given how she looks. And it's Fran calling out her brutal self-image and telling her she can have more in her life that helps her decide to get the abortion and dump Ryan.
There's also a moment of Annie challenging Fran over her sitcom-like attempts to juggle different partners on the same night. It's just a moment here. But eventually Fran will get her own journey from playing the field to taking the risk of real intimacy.
And so in a sense the finale's examination of Annie and Fran's friendship really does emerge directly from the pilot. And it's that much more powerful because everything they say in the finale about their friendship is here seen to be true: It was their safe place. It was the thing that enabled them to grow. It was the greatest love story.
There's even a great visual callback. Just as the finale opens with Annie resting her head on Fran's shoulder, trying to savor what moments they have left together, in the pilot we see her do the same thing after Fran brings her home from her abortion.
Start to finish, a really well-crafted show.
