Ep 3. To Sardines and Back

After a tumultuous season opener and a tense second episode, Transparent returns with a somewhat slower, more introspective third installment titled "To Sardines and Back." The episode centers around sisterly bonds and ties to LGBTQ history, while also touching on the political and emotional anxieties of modern America.

At the outset, we rejoin Ali (Gaby Hoffmann) following her tumultuous (and hallucinatory) encounter with a BDSM enthusiast in the previous episode. She's now bunking with Sarah (Amy Landecker) at the family home, where the two share a bedroom and seem to be developing a closer rapport than in previous seasons. They bond over tea and scones, swap old stories, and tease each other about their romantic lives.

The real meat of the episode, however, comes when the Pfefferman clan (minus Maura, who is traveling on a medical conference) decides to visit an LGBTQ center. The center is a place where activists and survivors can gather, connect, and share their experiences, and Maura is a regular visitor. But this visit is different in that it's a chance for the remaining Pfeffermans to learn from LGBTQ heroes of the past and present.

The visit is mediated by a wise, salt-and-pepper-haired woman named Leslie (Cherry Jones), who leads the group on a tour of the center's exhibits and introduces them to various speakers and organizers. In the process, the Pfeffermans (who are all cis-gender) are forced to confront their own privileges and prejudices, as well as the criticisms leveled against them by others in the LGBTQ community.

Some of the episode's most powerful scenes come during these encounters. Ali is particularly moved by one speaker, a young trans woman of color who describes the physical and emotional violence she's faced both within and outside of the LGBTQ community. Ali's sympathy is genuine, but she's also clearly grappling with a sense of guilt and culpability that she doesn't quite know how to express.

Sarah, meanwhile, is forced to confront her own discomfort with the gender-nonconformity of some of the speakers, even as she wants to show her support for the center. She balks when asked to use preferred pronouns that don't align with the speakers' gender presentations, and she seems bewildered when asked to participate in a group exercise geared toward fostering empathy. Yet she listens and learns, and we see a glimmer of understanding when she helps another visitor apply makeup in the women's restroom.

As for Leslie, she's a fascinating figure who manages to be both nurturing and no-nonsense. She draws out each character's insecurities and biases without ever seeming judgmental, and she forces them to confront difficult truths without ever belittling them. When Ali expresses her uncertainty about her own sexuality, Leslie gives her a bit of advice that sums up the show's complex attitude toward sexuality and gender: "Sex is like a subway – sometimes you miss the train, but there's always another one coming."

These scenes at the center are intercut with more lighthearted moments back at the family home, where Josh (Jay Duplass) is in the midst of a romantic (and sexual) reawakening. He's rekindled his relationship with Raquel (Kathryn Hahn), but he's also indulging in some impulsive hookups with younger women from his workout class. The tension between his newfound sense of possibility and his unresolved grief over the loss of his son is palpable, and Duplass is particularly good at walking this tightrope.

The title of the episode comes from a game played by the Pfefferman siblings during their childhood. They'd pack themselves into a closet and try to fit as many bodies as possible, like so many sardines in a can. It's a fond memory, but it also speaks to the ways in which the Pfeffermans have often clustered together for comfort and validation. This episode suggests that while that kind of mutual support can be invaluable, it can also be limiting and self-reinforcing. By venturing outside of their own family circle and into the larger LGBTQ community, the Pfeffermans are taking tentative but laudable steps toward empathy and growth.