In its first few seasons, HBO’s “Girls,” which returns for its sixth and final season Sunday, Feb. 12, made a lot of noise. You couldn’t go online without seeing think pieces about creator and star Lena Dunham’s vision; hot takes about Dunham’s willingness to be naked on camera in all her real-woman, unskinny glory; and analyses of whether “Girls” was the groundbreaking portrait of Milennial feminism some claimed, or a maddeningly self-indulgent exercise in entitled navel-gazing.
Taking a cue from a scene in Season 1, where Dunham’s character, Hannah Horvath, says, “I think that I may be the voice of my generation–or at least a voice of a generation,” some critics missed the comedy inherent in Hannah’s exaggerated sense of importance. Instead, they hurried to hang the “voice of a generation” label on Dunham herself, using “Girls” as evidence.
The commentary overkill was especially exhausting when contrasted with the modest ratings for “Girls.” The endless discussion of what “Girls” meant came across, more often than not, as a sweaty desire to not be old and out of it, but instead on top of what these kids today were all about.
Now that Dunham and her collaborators are preparing for the end, “Girls” is, as you might imagine, all about Hannah and her friends trying to figure things out.
In case we don’t get the drift, in the second episode of the new season, Jessa (Jemima Kirke) angrily yells “Grow up!” to Shoshanna (Zosia Mamet.)
Girls S6 Trailer
Judging by the first three episodes made available for screening, that “grow up” mantra is going to be key for the final season. As always with “Girls,” how you feel about that depends on your attitude. Do you care about Hannah’s struggles to be a writer, and her friends’ flailing attempts to find relationships and work that matters? Or are you sick of characters who have had the luxury of being so self-absorbed for so long?
Last season, Dunham and her team made “Girls” much more subtle and perceptive about the characters’ faults, yearning and failings.
Season 6 starts off in the same vein, with Hannah proud of getting something in print. Her New York Times “Modern Love” essay about losing her boyfriend, Adam (Adam Driver), to her best friend, Jessa, has gotten her some attention. She gets an assignment to cover a womens’ surf camp in the Hamptons.
In a knowingly self-referential touch, the assigning editor wants Hannah to do the piece because of “your look and your vibe,” i.e., the fact that Hannah’s not some conventionally gorgeous type.
“I’m like a Millennial Gidget,” Hannah says, with excitement. Of course, Hannah being Hannah, she immediately hates being at the beach, and gets distracted from actually reporting by having a fling with a mellow surfing instructor (charmingly played by Riz Ahmed, of “The Night Of.”)
Meanwhile, Marnie (Allison Williams) is divorcing her husband, and has taken up again with Ray (Alex Karpovsky.)
Marnie’s trying not to repeat her old patterns – and really, that’s a good goal, Marnie – so she tells Ray he can’t just stay at her place all the time, but needs his own space.
Dunham, who directs the first two episodes and wrote or co-wrote the first three, displays how her talent has gotten deeper as the chatter about “Girls” has grown quieter.
The first two episodes have some overly familiar elements. Yes, it’s HBO, but why do we have to see people having sex or hanging around naked all the time? It may be feminism at work, but my eyes start to glaze over at yet another of Hannah’s awkward sexual encounters. They don’t reveal anything new about her character, and they’re not funny enough to be worth the time.
But Dunham’s writing is wittier than ever, with details nobody else would ever think of, such as Ray’s reluctance to move back in with Adam and Jessa, whose annoying habits include, as Ray says, “They’re always reheating fish.”
Or Hannah’s description of Marnie’s irritating ex, Desi (Ebon Moss-Bachrach): “He looks like someone in, like, the Pacific Northwest knit a man.”
And the third episode of the season, involving Hannah’s visit to the apartment of a successful writer (Matthew Rhys, of “The Americans”) and their debates about men, women, power and sex, is another episode that feels as artful and provocative as a short story in The New Yorker.
The clamor about “Girls” may have died down, which is a relief. Based on the first three episodes, Dunham is ready to end her story with satirical precision and self-aware compassion.
“Girls” returns for its sixth and final season at 10 p.m. Sunday, Feb. 12 on HBO.
— Kristi Turnquist
kturnquist@oregonian.com
503-221-8227
@Kristiturnquist
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