Hacks Recap: A Strategic Retreat

Are you ready for what we have been advised by the legal department to call “a retreat” because I can’t take you into an office over the weekend? Let’s high-five! No, really, let’s high-five. They’re watching us, and we need to show unity.

Even though I thought we ended last week’s episode with the understanding that the writers’ room would be a hybrid — some of Ava’s picks and some of Deborah’s — the crew we see taking Damien’s informational packets as they deplane in Las Vegas seems to be 100 percent Ava-coded. Deborah mentioned that one of her women was still out of town, right? So we’re missing some people? Or were Deborah’s choices just not required to attend this getaway?

Ava believes that the writers aren’t able to do anything well unless they get to know each other first. She believes in camaraderie, a little team spirit, and some icebreakers where she can discuss her new shellfish allergies. This, as far as Ava is concerned, is the stuff great rooms are made of. While I find the concept of icebreakers very annoying — sorry, I’m an adult! Let me socialize without a construct! — I think Deborah’s approach is also wanting. Just rapid-fire demanding her new hires blurt out ideas at her? Someone has been working alone for a long time, and it shows.

As with their vision for hires, I imagine a little-of-this, little-of-that strategy is also what’s called for here, no? Ava wants to be everyone’s friend because she has not seen that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon realizes that no one wants to be buddies with their boss. Deborah wants to shout at people as she assumes this will make them creative and productive, a leadership style modeled by the youth soccer coaches I endured during my formative years. This approach does not seem to be landing with her underlings.

The gang gets a beautiful tour of all the fun Deborah has decided they will not be having, and then they are locked in a windowless ballroom-turned-conference room with nothing but cantaloupe and saltines to keep them going. Deborah states the obvious: Late-night shows work because of the host and not the format, so every single aspect of the show must be specific to her. Which, duh, yes, I love that. She also says that they need to be the number one late-night show within three months. I love that, too, although that pressure will surely break the more fragile writers in this room.

Deborah and Ava deal with the underwhelming offerings of this team — I really enjoyed their sidebar screams — and wrestle with whether or not to hire a “riff-killer.” (My favorite part: Deborah asks for a show of hands about her idea and then, in response to Ava saying that she can’t do that, asks, “Who thinks I can make you do that? Show of hands.”) Eventually, Ava talks Deborah into letting everybody have some fun, insisting that this will result in better vibes and, therefore, better material. In her great benevolence, Deborah relents: “I will show them the weekend of their lives right before I GRIND their BONES to DUST.” In my notes, I write: Not to be a buzzkill but I fear that this will involve a LOT of HR violations. 

First up: racing cars! Very Paul Newman; I approve. Deborah promises a grand to the winner, and then she wins. Did I catch this correctly? Did she take that cash off one of her new writers? Incredible. They get drunk and eat rainbow rolls and, after Deborah makes a pointed exit, buy a medicine cabinet worth of drugs from a guy who is even selling 12-year-old cans of Four Loko. They go clubbing, and we discover a whole new side of our leader: DJ DEBORAH. This is followed by a morning of gambling. I’m very impressed. I would perish under these conditions, but honestly, I wouldn’t have even made it through the part of the assignment where you have to be able to read in a moving car.

On the casino floor, one of our favorites appears: Kiki (Poppy Liu). Ava brags to her about “domming” Deborah, then admits that by domming, she means blackmail; I do wonder how many times Ava will have to tell someone about this before she internalizes that no one is going to respond the way I guess she hopes they will. Presumably she’s waiting for someone to say, “Wow, you’re so cool and brave and also a genius!” Kiki astutely describes this maneuver as “so sad and dark and horrible” and warns Ava that Deborah holds grudges forever.

Ah, here we are at the escalating HR violations: Deborah’s bringing everyone to Loretta’s strip club. Well, almost everyone, since the group left without Ava because she is a try-hard and isn’t that fun. “You told me to curate a fun vibe,” Deborah says in self-defense. “I thought I would help by abandoning you.”

Rather than enjoy her custom lap dance, Deborah is forced to confront the real reason for her trip. It does not help that Cherry, mid-ass-shake, notes, “Wow, I’m surprised you have time for this! What are you doing here?” In a panic, Deborah and Ava attempt a brainstorming session in the Champagne room. It doesn’t go well. The riff-killer vomits in the middle of their conversation, ending the party for all.

As she speeds through the Vegas night, Deborah insists to Ava that the writers’ inability to be funny under duress is a huge problem. Late night is ALL duress. (Or … is it? I mean, it’s not like working in a coal mine. Or is it way worse than working in a coal mine?) Just as these two are moving on from work talk to real talk — re: if Ava can get over being stabbed in the back, why can’t Deborah? — the ultimate riff-killer arrives: the cops.

I can’t believe that Deborah, for all her savvy, does not know that you’re not supposed to say anything to the cops when they pull you over. And you’re definitely not supposed to say that you aren’t drunk. Girl! Fortunately she is clever enough to hold onto her phone so she can call for help from the backseat of the cop car. Her knight in shining Reebok tracksuit arrives: It’s Mayor Pezzimenti (Lauren Weedman), baby!

The body cams are off, Deborah’s campaign contributions to Pezzimenti’s reelection campaign are back on, and everybody is going to forget this ever happened. Wow, women supporting women. How beautiful. Every single thing Pezzimenti said KILLED me, from the delivery of, “Nothing in this town is free, Pepper Ann!” to the way she whipped out her gun (!) at the end of the whole ordeal to ask Deborah to prove that she has great aim, to “I don’t get why firemen are more popular than cops. Then again, I don’t really follow the news.”

Through some kind of miracle, everybody got what they needed out of this retreat. The writers are friends. The almost-arrest has given them material and an idea for the big opener: Deborah getting let out of late-night jail. (“You try to lock James Corden in on your way out so he doesn’t do anymore musicals.”)

So the question is, if everybody’s happy, who snitched? Because when Deborah and Ava return to the office, they are taken to task for the “many, many reports of highly inappropriate behavior” from the retreat. (I think the riff-killer did it when he thought he was going to be fired for good, and he probably regrets it now.) Per the network, Ava and Deborah will never be unsupervised together ever again. They will have a chaperone, Stacy, from HR. Or this will unlock a new kink in this relationship … maybe they’ll like being watched?