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For any copyright, please send me a message. It was a perfect hour of television—just what we needed, this week in particular. This last episode of The Good Place was a balm of light and clarity in the ugly last days of the impeachment trial, when so many of us are still so weirdly raw and consumed by the incomprehensible death of a basketball giant and a beautiful child who so clearly loved her dad. “I won’t know what’s going to happen after I die,” marveled Michael, after Eleanor finagled a deal with The Judge to let him return to earth and live out a human existence. “Nothing more human than that.” For four seasons, Mike Schur and his deep bench of profound feelers and thinkers have wrestled with the biggest questions. What does it mean to be good? Is trying to be good enough? What matters? And for the love of Maya Rudolph, what waits for us at the end of this world? The show’s genius has always been its ability to effortlessly integrate elements like Chidi’s gorgeous, soothing hearkening to Eastern traditional thought (“the wave returns to the ocean, where it came from, and where it’s supposed to be”) with Eleanor being served a stiff one by a panda bear butler in the same finale. It was a comedy of great depth and tragedy, equal parts sublime and absurd and unsettling and reassuring. The show’s swan song began with Jason being the first to realize, after finally playing a perfect game of Madden, that he was ready to walk through the door that would end his afterlife. “It wasn’t like I heard a bell ring,” he told his found family. “I suddenly had this calm feeling. The air inside my lungs was the same as the air outside my body.” It’s poetry. Then, just to really help his friends visualize, he introduced a jalapeno popper analogy. (Manny Jacinto, you are the hottest, dearest guy on television—and if Shakespeare hadn’t been wasting time on The Tempest 2: Here We Blow Again, he would’ve written sonnets about your Adam’s apple.) Tahani was the next to find peace. First, Nick Offerman complimented the smooth bevel of her chair; then her parents arrived, looking upon her and her sister with acceptance and joy. After crossing one final entry off her bucket list (“problematically objectifying Eleanor’), she realized that wanted neither ceaseless good vibes nor the final archway. So she became a humble intern to the architects instead, gifted a peacock bow tie by her forever mentor Michael. And then the emotional resonance of an already moving hour kicked up a few hundred. With her friends making graceful exits one by one, Eleanor grasped tighter to her beloved Chidi. His light was fading, though; he was reading The DaVinci Code for pleasure. Eleanor scrambled to pull him back, taking him to Athens and, by accident,
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