‘Sexy Beast’ Episode 7 Recap: Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

As Nancy Sinatra sings “Bang Bang,” my stomach ties itself in knots. Two episodes remaining in this season of Sexy Beast and I find myself torn. Part of me wants the story to go on for however long the filmmakers want. But another part hopes they wrap everything up, since high quality isn’t the kryptonite of short-sighted cancellation it was just a few short years ago. (Fatal Attraction, we hardly knew ye.) 

More importantly, though? I’m nervous as hell. My body’s reacting to the prospect of pressing play on this episode as though it thinks I’m actually in danger myself. The atmosphere of mounting dread, created by showrunner Michael Caleo and now helped along here by writer Alastair Galbraith and director Stephen “Teddy Bass” Moyer, has me that shook. 

As it needs to. In the original Sexy Beast, you know from moment you see Aitch, Jackie, Deedee, and Gal react to the news that Don Logan called that this man is terrifying; you spend the movie wondering when he’ll make good on his reputation. The TV show’s trick is to set whatever event gave Don that reputation—whatever made people stop thinking of him as weird and annoying and start thinking of him like an alien could burst out of his chest and eat them at any moment—in the indeterminate future. We know we’re getting closer to it, but we don’t know how far we’ve gone.

Every indication here points to “pretty far,” however. The penultimate episode of the season (“You and Me”) is an emotional abattoir, in which multiple characters mutilate each other’s psyches, and occasionally each other’s bodies. 

In the latter category there’s Freddie McGraw, the prodigal prince of the underground, finally called to the carpet by his dad Dominic for killing their dirty cop. When Dominic figures out Freddie knew Teddy Bass was behind the thefts the cop was investigating all along, but said nothing because Teddy raped him (the word is out), he pulls a gun on him, then beats him. Insinuating that Freddie and Teddy are an item is the last straw, though: Freddie, or what’s left of him after he’s been beaten up and bashed his own face against a table in his emotional extremis, shoots Dominic in the head. That’s one plot thread tied off.

Here’s where I’d like to single out the tremendous work of Rebecca Stone as Jackie, the terrified woman who witnessed Freddie’s rape by Teddy — and who happens to be the future Mrs. Aitch, after an ill-advised one-night stand with Don Logan everyone is given occasion to regret down the line. I don’t know if they didn’t mention her name in that earlier episode or if I just missed it or what, but I’d been wondering when a character that important to the eventual film would show up. Leave it to this show to have already introduced her in the most unexpected and upsetting way possible.

On the “emotional devastation” end of things — well, Freddie’s there too, of course. But closer to home than a gangster killing his mob boss father, we have the sad denouement of the relationships Gal and Deedee were in before they met each other.

Staggering home from his beating at the hands of Alan and his biker buddies, Gal discovers that Marjorie is home, and onto him. He bullshits his way through a story about how the whole thing’s a lie by Ann Marie, and goes so far as to divulge the truth about Larry’s death just to throw Marjorie off the scent. It’s a tremendously shitty thing to do, and exactly the kind of thing people do when they get caught and are still frantically trying to keep everyone from getting hurt even though they know it’s not possible. Tremendous writing. Ditto Marjorie’s eventual acquiescence to a story they both know is a lie, seemingly out of sheer exhaustion more than anything else; the next morning it becomes clear from both their words and actions that they know the story didn’t take.

At times it feels like the show is holding you by the head and forcing you to watch the real-world consequences of storybook True Love. As Marjorie, Eliza Bennett leaves it all on the floor. She’s awful to behold as she screams at the man she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with as recently as earlier that night. She’s equally sexy and sad when she goes out that night dressed to kill, allowing some bloke to grope her on the dance floor in front of anybody, because it sure beats sitting home and crying.

She’s simply magnificent when Deedee comes to see if Gal’s okay and finds Marjorie instead. “You don’t look like a porn star,” she says through her tears. “You’re really pretty.” It’s a compliment that’s both sincere and backhanded. Later she tells Deedee that since Deedee, at least, acknowledged that she and Gal had some kind of relationship whereas Gal denied she even existed, she likes Deedee better than Gal now.

Then it really gets hard to watch. Marjorie recalls a story from when they were first dating back in whatever British people call high school, when he invited her over to see his family’s house. When he showed her his room, she discovered he’d asked his dad to wallpaper it with the same paper she used to cover her schoolbooks.

“It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she says. “It’s a nice thing to do, that. Wasn’t it?” And it was, that’s the heartbreaking thing. Gal really was wonderful to Marjorie, until he wasn’t anymore. 

And since Deedee is the reason, Marjorie’s grace only extends so far. “I’m sorry,” Deedee offers, sincerely but lamely. “For what?” Marjorie asks. “For fucking him? Or for pissing on years and years of me and him?” Deedee has nothing of substance to say in reply. 

Deedee’s day of being pummeled to shit is not over. When she throws Alan out for beating Gal, rejecting his corny attempts to get her to See Reason and stay with him, he lets loose on her. Her career as a porn star, he shouts into her face, will stain her forever. She’s resolute until she leaves, at which points she starts to sob. Deedee is not ashamed of what she does. What she is is heartsick over how everyone treats her because of it. Why wouldn’t she be?

Don’t let’s discount Don’s ordeal, either. Confronted by Gal about his role in spilling the beans to Marjorie about Deedee, he denies it for a time, leading Gal to twice berate him for his big mouth and his overall parasitic presence, which causes everyone other than Gal to recoil from him when they see him. Imagine hearing this from one of the two people you believe love you in the whole world, and the only one of whom who doesn’t berate you on an hourly basis. Sure, they make up during their day’s work: robbing his erstwhile father-in-law-to-be’s construction company for the tools they’ll need to pull off Teddy’s big heist. But the seeds of dissent have been planted. You can’t blame Gal for lashing out at Don—Don really is insufferable—but you also can’t blame Don for…whatever happens next.

Plenty else of note takes place before we reach the big finale. In a montage set extremely audaciously to fucking “Anarchy in the U.K.,” Cecilia’s goons appear to cripple Larry’s brothers, or worse, ending that storyline as well. At the same time, Don runs into the bikers’ motorcycles with his car to avenge Gal, always a terrific idea the night before the job of your life. Elsewhere, Ted drags a stitched-up Gal along to an antiques dealer in order to deliberately get the both of them spotted by security cameras as the thieves responsible for the onslaught against Sir Stephen Eaton’s valuables. 

But the climax brings it all together. A semi-repentant Ann Marie calls Gal down to the Eagle to, I dunno, do something about Marjorie, who’s carrying on on the dance floor. When he shows up and tries to comfort her outside, she lets him know the jig is up, that she’s met Deedee, that she knows it’s all real. “She looked at me,” Marjorie tells him, “and I thought I was gonna fucking vanish. Into thin air.” Christ. Absolutely brutal. She’s crying. He’s crying.

But he won’t let it go. Stupidly, he won’t let it go even after it’s clear that it’s as over for her as it’s been over for him since he met Deedee. A physical altercation breaks out between Gal and various dudes. The owner shuts the music off. Marjorie announces to everyone that Gal cheated on her with a porn star. Gal, sick to death of his whole fucking scene, tells them all to fuck off, likely ending his hail-fellow-well-met reputation forever.

And somewhere along the way, Marjorie gives him a serious puncture wound in the abdomen with one of her high heels — once again, the kind of thing you love to experience the night before the heist that will make or break the rest of your life, specifically the length thereof.

Man, this is outstanding TV. On to the finale, whatever resolution it brings.

Sean T. Collins (@theseantcollins) writes about TV for Rolling Stone, Vulture, The New York Times, and anyplace that will have him, really. He and his family live on Long Island.