Better Things Welcomes Max Into The Sucky/Sweet Complexity Of Womanhood

For the first few episodes -- starting, in fact, in the cold open of the series premiere -- the Fox daughters of Better Things have been less autonomous individuals than just three hassles among the many grinding Sam down every day to the point where she's grateful for a stolen nap in the back of her SUV. But "Future Fever," the season's fifth episode, moves the focus off Sam and onto Max, for the deepest and truest episode yet.

Max has spent a lot of her screen time, to this point, pouting or screaming, but following her through a couple of days shows us that she has a lot to pout and scream about. Though we learned a couple of episodes ago that she's serious about dance, this is the first episode where we get to see her doing it.

The discipline of the class forces Max to turn off her default teenagerly posturing and take her work seriously; in a setting where she's confident in her mastery and determined to continue improving, we get a glimpse at what's most important to her and why.

Max doesn't just allow Sam to be proud of her: she's also proud of herself.

But there's a problem: Max is getting toward the end of high school, and while her guidance counselor is supportive, the volume of information she conveys to Max about the application process is considerable, and Max takes it in silently, looking terrified. Is pursuing dance even a possibility for her? Does she have to decide now to abandon a pursuit that gives her so much joy, for a nebulous idea of what she should do for the sake of her future? We see her worry about it through scenes with friends, and next to a homeless person at a bus stop, and as Sam and her friends enjoy after-dinner wine and conversation. Seeing Sam being herself with her peers seems to unlock something in Max, who speaks up to share her fears.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with my life," she says. "I'm really confused. I'm never getting into college." Sam immediately tries to cheer her up with some momsplaining, assuring her that she definitely will: "All you have to do is--"

"I had to start trying to be that kind of smart a long time ago," Max says. "And I have wasted so much time just being social? It's such a waste! And I look back at the last, I don't know, three years? I have just been a loser. Getting high. Just drama with my friends? I am just now starting to realize that I am going to be, like, eighteen in two years, and it's like, I already blew it. That's how it feels."

You can immediately tell why Max felt comfortable being this vulnerable right here and now, because Sam's friends respond exactly as they should: they don't treat her like a kid.

Not the most optimistic message, but it's the one Max needs, because it's the truth.

...And Sam can't help momming out.

The spell is broken when Sam's own mom storms in, wearing nothing but a slip, accusing Sam of having stolen wine out of her garage. But Sam can still kvell over having been present for a moment Max will probably always remember, and for the promise of what their relationship might eventually become when she and Max can be friends, too.