Mythic Quest
To Catch a Mouse
Season 3
Episode 8
Editor’s Rating
Photo: Vulture; Photo: Apple TV
Here it is: season three’s “shit just got serious” moment, the equivalent of last season’s “Please Sign Here.” That episode happened at the midpoint of season two, while this one is dropping with only two episodes to go. And I have to say that part of me does wish this moment happened sooner; it’s been unclear just how seriously to take Ian and Poppy’s bickering throughout this season, which doesn’t always sound much different from any other point in their dynamic. That said, I do really like how this all goes down, and appreciate that it’s not an exact replication of last year’s fight.
It starts, as I said, like any other fight between Ian and Poppy. They’re getting more and more annoyed with each other’s habits: Ian can’t stand the ugly post-it notes she forgets to take down, she can’t stand the cold AC he blasts, and Dana is constantly stuck in between, forced to play mediator. But as the episode goes on, the fighting gets a little meaner, a little more personal. Poppy calls Ian out for fucking around all the time while she’s building a game from scratch. And while Poppy is generally in the right, you have to feel a little bad for Ian when she relentlessly mocks his idea to turn her desk into an “efficiency pod.” (It’s just a cubicle.) You can understand why the man’s brain would start to short-circuit after hearing that an idea he created is unoriginal and bad. His whole identity is based around being the ideas guy, going back to his mom admiring his creative brain last episode.
In retrospect, that was one of most important accomplishments of last week’s “Sarian.” That flashback episode revealed a personal, emotional anchor to Ian’s god complex. That episode also, of course, built up the uniqueness of Ian and Poppy’s friendship just to make its (temporary) dissolution all the more painful. And that rooftop scene is brutal; you know it’s getting serious by the way Rob McElhenney says, “shut the fuck up,” and then it only gets worse from there. The true feelings he’s been trying to suppress this whole season begin to come out: He thinks that Poppy is taking his thing. He always came up with the ideas, and she executed them; now there’s a fundamental change in that dynamic, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Poppy is frustrated, obviously, especially because Ian has barely even made an effort to be a true partner, distracting himself with metaverse shenanigans. And yet he has the gall to insist that he tried to play second fiddle to her, and ultimately he just can’t do it. It’s heartbreaking to see the feeling of betrayal on Poppy’s face. For any relationship between two insecure people, this is a nightmare scenario: You convince yourself that you’re wrong to be paranoid about the imbalance between the two of you, then the other person confirms your deepest insecurity.
It’s impossible not to compare this to the equivalent moment last year, when Ian cruelly confirmed another of Poppy’s worst fears: that she would fail if she tried to make a game without him. That fear still lingers on now, though you get the sense Poppy is a little more confident in her own abilities. She might know that she can take the lead on a game without his help, but losing Ian is about more than just losing a professional relationship. What Ian says this time is as harsh as what he said last year, but they’re different types of harsh: He’s not trying to hurt her this time, which makes his words hurt just as much, maybe even more. There’s no element of empty bluster here disguising Ian’s vulnerability. He’s speaking from the heart in saying that he doesn’t want to work on Poppy’s game.
If you think about it, Brad is in a somewhat comparable position with Rachel, grumpy about working beneath her. But compared to the main drama of the episode, the rest of “To Catch a Mouse” feels a little slight and less character-focused; when I think back on this episode, I doubt I’ll remember that these two stories were taking place at the same time. Still, it’s a pretty funny bit to see everyone repeatedly misunderstand David’s use of “rat,” and it’s nice to see Brad and Jo teaming up again, pouring their mutual frustration into saving David from a literal rat scurrying around the office. In the end, David is too soft to say no to taking a family of rats home with him, because of course he is.
In the final scene, Poppy returns to her desk, wiping a tear away as she dives back into her game. It’s striking how quiet the GrimPop office is after weeks of chaos and bickering. All this time, Poppy has said she needs uninterrupted time for work, and yet you know she’d sacrifice productivity in a second if it meant having a partner and friend she could rely on.
Season three has felt aimless at times compared to last season, and it’s taken most of the season to really understand the nature of the latest conflict between Poppy and Ian. But “To Catch a Mouse” finally snaps those pieces into place, clarifying the stakes of the main dramatic story line. While I expect these two to make up again in the next two episodes, this latest fight feels even more difficult to come back from than last season’s blowout. Creative differences are natural, but now it feels like there may be a fundamental disconnect between these two people. We know how well they work together, but what if they really aren’t compatible anymore, for valid reasons? That’s a harder pill to swallow.
• That first high-pitched yelp from David Hornsby is particularly excellent.
• The real highlight of David’s story might be his banter with Dana, a new and specific dynamic different from his relationships with other characters. Really dug their venting about getting stuck between Ian and Poppy. That said … I might need Dana to gain some personality traits other than “chill” and “cool” in season four.
• Great beat when Ian throws a chair across the roof in frustration. In general, both McElhenney and Charlotte Nicdao do great dramatic work this episode, as expected.
• Also perfect choice for the ending song: “House of Mirrors” by Josephine Oniyama. “Loved as I am, I can’t help but feel so drained.”
