Season 3, Episode 8, “Ice Chips”

(Editor’s Note: Episode 9 recap will be posted on July 9. This recap contains spoilers.)

You could make a drinking game out of it (but you probably shouldn’t): Take a drink every time Natalie asks someone “Are you okay?” or “Are you okay?” That’s the job she feels she’s supposed to do in this world: make sure everyone around her feels comfortable and cared for. Because if they don’t, they might turn on her. And then all the years will fly by, and she’ll be back where she started: at Dee Dee’s, helpless to keep the beast at bay. There’s a reason everyone calls her Sugar.

At the beginning of “Ice Chips,” she’s the one who’s not okay, who’s not okay, who’s not comfortable, or who’s not well surrounded. She’s all alone in rush-hour traffic, with a trunk full of cots and a baby who’s just starting to crawl out of her belly. Pete’s on a plane and no one at the Bear is answering the phone. So Nat literally and figuratively braces herself and makes the call she’s been avoiding for a long, long time.

People with borderline personality disorder—and Donna Berzatto is a perfect example—have a need to be wanted and desired. Their love is selfish, suffocating, and comes with more strings attached than a spider’s web. And sometimes the only way out without losing your mind is to cut ties, especially when the last time that person was seen driving through the wall of their own house.

But I have to admit, Dee Dee doesn’t try to surprise you. “DARLING! DARLING! DARLING! DARLING! DARLING!” spreads across the hospital parking lot, getting louder and louder, until she lunges at her daughter like a vampire who’s finally gotten the invitation she’s been waiting for. She then starts yelling “Hee! Hee! Hee!” directly into Nat’s ear, which has the opposite effect of calming her down. And we haven’t even reached the lobby yet.

Donna doesn’t let go of Nat’s hands throughout the episode, compulsively squeezing her shoulders, stroking her hair, and grasping her palm. But the meaning of those caresses changes when she finally learns to hold her daughter close without smothering her.

Director Joanna Calo films Ice Chips primarily in extreme close-ups, alternating between the faces of mother and daughter. The effect is almost unbearably intimate: you can see every thread of mascara melting under Nat’s eyes and the deep cracks that form around Donna’s mouth every time she frowns, which is often.

It also gives us a chance to take a closer look at the stunning performances of Jamie Lee Curtis and Abby Elliott. Like her character, Elliott was a quiet and consistent supporting actress throughout the film. The bear, which is first and foremost a series about male intimacy. This episode, however, deals with a very different kind of inheritance than what happens between Michelin-starred chefs. While Carmy’s feelings are as tight as the layers of a mille-feuille, her sister’s are always obvious. But that doesn’t mean Nat is an open book – and Elliott is brilliant at revealing as much of her character as she hides.

She and Curtis feed off each other’s energy so beautifully that all the years of love and resentment between them feel solid enough to touch. From her trembling fingers to her unbridled laughter, Curtis’ Donna feels more like a possession than a performance. (If anyone “haunted” season three, it certainly wasn’t Big Neil.) As someone who, to be fair, grew up with a borderline parent, her take on the character is terribly relatable.

Nat may be the one about to give birth, but inside the hospital room, it’s the Dee-Dee Show. She tells the nurse the story of the night she gave birth to Mikey, back when obstetricians were just “men who said things.” Her reason for wanting a baby? She wanted someone to love her the way she’d seen “all those complacent mothers at the Jewel, blocking the aisle with their strollers.”

Horrified by the situation she’s gotten herself into, Nat says, “Hey, how’s Pete?” (I know you’re in labor and all, but don’t let that woman answer your calls!) Donna scoffs when Nat says she doesn’t want an epidural. Which would be perfectly normal, if her underlying motivation wasn’t so scary: “Why don’t I see if I can handle the pain?” Wow.

That pain is intense, of course. Joanna Calo makes us feel the toll of each contraction, as Nat finally gives in to the “hee” (I guess running a restaurant doesn’t leave much time for Lamaze classes) and realizes it’s pretty effective. Emotionally, Donna may be a child, but she knows what she’s talking about when it comes to getting through labor. And yes, maybe Nat will get that epidural after all, with a little Pitocin.

To distract herself from the pain and to keep her mother from asking questions she’s not prepared to answer, Nat delves into the story of her brothers’ births. Both were difficult: Mikey “twisted” in Donna’s womb, and Carmy’s delivery was “completely fucked up.” (She shows that both of these troubled souls would have preferred to remain in the womb, protected from the slings and arrows of the outside world.)

A few episodes ago, Mikey gushed about how life’s most special moments revolve around food. And while a plastic cup of ice isn’t exactly Christmas dinner, it’s clear from Nat and Donna’s smiles that it’s the best meal they’ve shared in years. As the chill between them begins to dissipate, Dee Dee asks her daughter if the reason she didn’t tell her about the baby is because she didn’t want her to be there. Not quite: Nat wants her mother in this child’s life, but she doesn’t want what she brings with her. “I don’t want her to be scared like I was.”

If there was ever a time when Donna could be receptive enough—and sober enough—to accept her daughter’s explanation of how she screwed her up, it’s this one. Nat admits that she still thinks people are mad at her, that she’s always put other people’s needs before her own—especially her mother’s. Donna finds it cute, but Sugar is sick of it: “No, it’s not cute. It’s gross, Mom! I made myself sick so you’d feel better.”

And, miraculously, Donna understands. She is This is why Natalie lives in a constant state of fear and why she is terrified of repeating the cycle of abuse herself when this baby is born. Borderline personality disorder is contagious if left unchecked, and is often passed down from mother to daughter. (When Nat mentions that she doesn’t remember her grandmother, Donna says hoarsely, “You don’t want to remember her.”)

That’s when Nat asks to hear her own story. There’s nothing performative about the smile that lights up Donna’s face as she describes the dream she had the night her daughter was born: it’s about seeing beauty in a place where no one else thinks to look and wanting to share that beauty with someone else. It’s about wanting to be understood and, in being understood, feeling less alone. And it’s about more than just Seven fishes.

When Pete arrives to find Donna holding Nat, the two of them swaying to the Ronettes’ “Baby, I Love You,” the gravity of the room has shifted: For the first time in her life, Natalie is the center of her mother’s world, not the other way around. It’s the greatest gift Dee Dee could have given her. And she knows that Pete’s arrival is the signal for her departure, because, heartbreakingly, Nat’s dream of seeing the baby born into “something really good” can only come true in his absence.

In “Legacy“Carmy has told his fellow chefs that the only way he can feel like he’s made a positive impact on the world is to “conform to everything and everyone.” To him, it’s an unrealistic dream, but to the women in his family, at least for today, it’s a practice.

I expected “Ice Chips” to start off badly and only get worse, like “Fishes.” (I don’t know about you, but I was so sure Donna was lying when she assured Nat she’d called Pete.) But Callo and the episode’s writer, Christopher Storer Give us something a lot more cathartic – and a lot more surprising.

Scattered observations

• It’s tragic and telling that the first person Nat thinks to call after Pete doesn’t pick up isn’t Carmy but Sydney. Even though she’s only known Syd for a few years, Nat trusts her completely. Her brother, the boy who wanted to stay in the womb as long as he could, not so much.
• Richie’s voicemail message is “Well ! “is not available” just sounds perfect.
• It’s a small detail, but it doesn’t seem like an afterthought when a nurse calls over the microphone to ask for “hands” to help resuscitate a mother. A hospital is a big kitchen, but the stakes are infinitely higher.
• “That doesn’t calm me down!” “Yes. It does. It calms you down.” I’ll definitely be discussing this mother-daughter exchange in therapy next week.
• Because Donna doesn’t know the meaning of boundaries, the back massage she gives Nat quickly turns into a fondling. “You’ve got your father’s ass. He had a nice ass.”

• Speaking of the Berzatto patriarch, his presence is heavy in the room by his very absence. He was absent for Mikey and Nat’s deliveries, but he was there for Carmy’s, and he made things much worse.
• These ice cubes really look tasty.