One of the biggest obstacles Lessons in Chemistry will have to contend with is big, many times uncomfortable tonal shifts. It’s at times a sweet, fun romance, a heartwarming story of found family, a nice comedy, and believe you me, there will be dog narration — but Elizabeth’s story is also one of multiple heartbreaks, tragedy, and trauma taking place against a backdrop of sexism and racism. The show’s second outing, “Her and Him,” bookended by some of the heaviest moments of the story, demonstrates just how clunky those shifts can be while also assuring us that we’ll survive even the most uncomfortable transitions thanks to the two compelling performances at the center of it all. Nerds in love or not, I’d watch Brie Larson and Lewis Pullman together in anything at this point.
In the opening minutes of this episode, we get a fuller picture of why Elizabeth Zott is the way she is. It’s 1950, and she’s presenting her research to the panel for the UCLA Ph.D. qualifying exam. She is impressive. She stuns her superiors with her confidence and theories and her, quite frankly, intimidating grasp on aspects of chemistry that I wouldn’t even dare to attempt to pronounce. In the, what, 30 seconds before the incident that sends Elizabeth’s life in a completely different direction, Larson is able to convey that here, in the before times, Elizabeth is just as wildly intelligent and, yes, completely awkward as she is now, but she is also lighter, happier, excited. It’s honestly incredible to see. But we know that by the time Elizabeth gets to Hastings, no one in their right mind would describe her with those adjectives. And we watch in horror as we see why: Following her presentation, her professor and mentor Dr. Bates locks the door to her small office and rapes her. She manages to pull the pencil from her hair and stab him in the gut in order to get him to stop, but it’s too late. Then we have to watch as she’s told that she’s “a very lucky girl” because Dr. Bates has agreed to drop assault charges if Elizabeth just apologizes for her actions. And you know, she’s told, not many women get a second chance like this in these types of “misunderstandings.” If she doesn’t write out a statement of regret, she won’t be able to continue on to get her Ph.D. Elizabeth is reeling from all of it, and yet stands her ground. There’s no way in hell she’s apologizing. “I do have one regret,” she tells the woman (!!) issuing this ultimatum. “I regret not having more pencils.”
So much of who Elizabeth is now makes more sense after understanding the trauma she’s gone through. Fran Frask might call her arrogant and snobbish, but Elizabeth’s broken, paranoid, and slow to trust for obvious reasons. She’s quick to call out sex discrimination because so much of her power and her future — now we know why she never continued on to get her Ph.D. — was taken from her because of it. She focuses on her work because her work won’t betray her or hurt her or disappoint her; she can, for the most part, control the outcomes of her work.
The problem here, of course, is this is no way to live a real life and, while an understandable reaction to what she’s faced, it’s preventing her from being happy. If only Calvin knew what was really going on instead of watching her try to get reassigned out of his lab and then setting up strict boundaries within their lab (no, she literally puts tape down to separate their spaces in the room). He is gutted thinking that he did something to hurt her and he doesn’t understand why she won’t talk to him about it, but he doesn’t push. He gives her space. He leaves her apologies. His work suffers for it. His heart does too.
Not long after this rift between Calvin and Elizabeth, Dr. Donatti comes to visit their lab looking for Calvin. Donatti’s job has been threatened by his superior if he doesn’t get Calvin to produce a Remsen Grant–level proposal soon, and so this asshole threatens Elizabeth in turn. Since she must be the one distracting the great Calvin Evans, he threatens not just her job, but the employment status of the entire female staff at Hastings (men need to provide for their families, don’t you know?) and promises that he’ll let them all know who’s to blame. Whenever Donatti gets his comeuppance — please, we are begging for it — it’s going to feel so, so sweet.
Elizabeth has no choice but to go see Calvin. She finds him on his erg in his garage working out his feelings, and when she tells him what Donatti’s up to, he seems as if he might crack under the pressure. He spews out a whole bunch of truths to her: that he hasn’t made any progress since he won the Remsen two years ago and he’s felt stuck and blocked and like a failure … until he met her. “It was like I could breathe again,” he tells her. It’s why he’s so undone by her spurning him with no explanation. Elizabeth doesn’t go into specifics, but she’s about as open as she can be, too. When she says that there are some things too difficult for her to talk about, but that she needs the door open so that she knows “that there’s a way out,” he can probably figure out the gist of what’s going on. And he’s lovely about it. “If that’s what you need, I can do that.” Is Calvin Evans the perfect man? I mean, on this show, the bar is low, but still. He is sort of a dream, isn’t he?
From there, the two pick up where they left off. He teaches her how to row and she almost drowns because she doesn’t know how to swim and didn’t tell him (geniuses can be so dumb sometimes), and after he saves her, they admit to their mutual feelings and kiss. He gives her swimming lessons, they kiss some more. They work side by side and hit a stride with their abiogenesis experiments. In bed, Elizabeth looks at Calvin’s notes and makes some connections that will change everything. It gets them very hot and horny, and we love that for them.
They work through Christmas. All of Calvin’s relatives are dead, and Elizabeth, who lost her brother when she was a teen, doesn’t speak to her parents. Their hypothesis finally works, and they celebrate the monumental win with booze and terrible dancing and Christmas hats. Calvin cooks for Elizabeth for a change, and it is so cute — he practiced the whole thing to make sure he could do it!! — my heart might explode. Elizabeth gifts Calvin a dog leash for her new fluffy friend Six Thirty, a stray that started as her dog but quickly became theirs, and tells him it’s so Six Thirty can become his running buddy, because she never will. Honestly, it is Elizabeth’s greatest moment of genius in this entire thing. Okay, fine, if you know what we know by the end of this episode, maybe this gift doesn’t age well, but in theory it is inspired. Stop running for fun, everyone, I am begging you!!
These two are just the most wonderful, gorgeous little nerds on the planet and so perfect for each other, it is excruciatingly clear that things are just too good to last.
Proposals for the Remsen Grant are due, and while the pickings seem slim (honestly, how has Borowitz made it this far in his career? Just kidding, I know), when Calvin and Elizabeth enter the room as a duo and Calvin informs the room that Elizabeth is the lead on this, oh wow, those men are livid. And then when she presents their findings and it is not only, as Calvin puts it, “revelatory” in their field, but also intimidating as hell, you can tell they are all internally panicking. It’s mere seconds before they lean on all their classic sexism tricks to discredit Elizabeth. She’s only a lab tech, not a chemist. She’s pretty, sure, but what does she know? “Hastings would be the laughingstock of the scientific community; I’d rather shutter the place,” the Guy in Charge says about submitting a proposal with someone like Elizabeth as lead. Calvin is appalled, but Elizabeth is not surprised. She tells them she’ll take her name off the paper; the work is too important. Calvin refuses. This is her work, she deserves this.
She runs out of the room and he follows with about as dreamy a chemistry-based declaration of love can get as he tries to explain why he wants to protect her: “You are what I treasure most in this world. Not because you are pretty. Not because you are smart. But because you love me and I love you and you can try to deny it, but I will not believe you. When certain atoms collide, it is instantaneous and it is inevitable. It’s basic chemistry.” Listen, is there some sort of chemical reaction happening in my eyeballs? You bet. Did I begin to wonder why I didn’t go into a scientific field in college? I mean, for like a minute and a half, let’s not get crazy.
They love each other and they will find another way to get the grant, even if they have to submit their application without the backing of Hastings Lab. When Elizabeth asks if that’s even possible and Calvin tells her that no one’s ever tried, but who cares? Well, if it were at all possible, Elizabeth loves him even more in that moment.
Their relationship is rock-solid now. Calvin confesses that he’s lived his life with this little hint of panic in his heart, but it goes away whenever he’s with Elizabeth. Elizabeth tells him that she never wants to get married or have kids because it would force her to give up her career, and he’s okay with it. As long as she’s happy, he’s happy. And so they get back to work. It’s what they do best, after all. They will get that proposal of their work to Remsen. They will get that grant money. They will change the field of chemistry with their work.
But then Calvin goes for a morning run with Six Thirty, who is not dealing with his leash well, and in the shuffle to get the dog to move off the sidewalk, Calvin ends up standing in the street as a bus comes flying by, slamming directly into him. Calvin’s dead. Calvin may have been waxing poetic about the wonders of life’s surprises, but in the middle of all of his happiness, he forgot that sometimes surprises can be pretty awful, too.
Lab Notes
• Lessons in Chemistry works hard to show the softer edges of Calvin in the short amount of time we have with him, and, yes, admittedly, I am a sucker for seeing the smartest guy in the room be so kind and loving with Harriet’s little kids.
We also get an unresolved wrinkle in Calvin and Harriet’s friendship: She tells him about the city council hearing to present arguments against the proposed freeway running through Sugar Hill and he wants to help in any way he can. She knows that having a white man on his way to winning a Nobel Prize in chemistry sitting on their side of the hearing would be monumental in making their case against all the arguments in favor of the freeway, which are littered with racism and lies. Of course Calvin will be there, he promises. Except, by the time the hearing rolls around, Calvin is deep into his work and relationship with Elizabeth and he forgets. When he comes to apologize, she can barely listen to it. That’s the last time she sees her friend.
• I hope we get to see more of Harriet schooling men in court because, dang, she is good at it, even if the hearing — not surprisingly — doesn’t go her way.
• Poor Six Thirty! Six Thirty is the fluffy stray dog with impeccable manners — aside from eating out of her garbage cans — who Elizabeth takes in one night when she finds him hungry at her back door. He seems like a very good boy who makes Elizabeth and Calvin happy, but yeah, he, uh, might be feeling guilty about his role in Calvin’s untimely death. I’m not exactly blaming a dog for it, but … I need to blame someone!!
• Maybe I’m unhinged (do not confirm or deny), but when Calvin is so confused as to what he did to hurt Elizabeth and he promises not to eat saltines in the lab anymore?? I’m tearing up just thinking about it, what a sweet boy! He did not deserve his fate and neither did we!!
