Comedy
Margo’s Got Money Troubles
Despite some really encouraging thoughts on the preciousness of life, ‘Margo’s Got Money Troubles’ is awash in troubles of its own.
When the theocratic Republic of Gilead took over the United States, many citizens failed to see the immediate danger. Sure, their country had a new name. Women could no longer read, write or own property. And armed guardians patrolled the streets, killing or imprisoning anyone suspected of violating Gilead’s oppressive, religiously tinged rules.
But with plummeting birth rates worldwide, Gilead also offered hope. The new regime promised to fix the infertility and child mortality rates with clean water and pesticide-free food. It outlawed abortion and contraception. It punished “gender traitors”—those who would identify with the LGBT community—who were considered a direct affront to the natural child-bearing process.
Gilead also implemented the handmaid program, wherein fertile women who had “sinned” were given the opportunity to “atone” for their sins through ritualistic rape, bearing the next generation of children to Gilead’s commanders.
Hannah was one of those children. Technically, she was born before the handmaid program was established, but Gilead still considered her to be their property, since she was born on their soil. So when her parents, June Osborne and Luke Bankole (whose story is documented in The Handmaid’s Tale) tried to escape Gilead, so-called guardians captured her family, literally ripping Hannah from her mother’s arms.
Hannah is called Agnes Mackenzie now. Because she was so young when Gilead took her, she has no memory of her life before. She has no memory of her real parents. She’s been told that Gilead “saved” her from the evil of the world, that Gilead is “good.” She’s been “adopted” into the family of a commander, destined to become a wife—and, the regime hopes, a mother—someday.
But Agnes’ destiny does not protect her from Gilead’s violence.
If Agnes is caught reading, she’ll lose a finger, maybe even a whole hand. One of her family’s Marthas (infertile women who cook and clean for Gilead’s commanders), Zilla, lost her tongue—probably for blasphemy, we’re told, since that’s an accusation that wives like to toss around. And Agnes recounts how, as a little girl, she was forced to stand in her school’s dining hall for two days with her mouth taped shut while holding a sign that read “slut”—all because she had smiled at a boy on the playground.
But for now, Agnes is a “Plum,” a wife in training. Because she hasn’t had her first menstrual cycle yet, the teen girl is not eligible for marriage. But once she does, she’ll be promoted to a “Green,” and given a pin to signify her new status.
Every girl prays to become a Green, Agnes says. But it also terrifies us.
The Plums have been taught since they were little girls that it’s their duty—to their husbands, to Gilead, to God Himself—to bear children. Getting your period means that God has blessed you with the possibility of fulfilling this divine task. It should not be taken lightly. But you must prove your worthiness of such an honor by faithfully obeying Gilead’s rigid laws.
And that’s the scary part. Because following Gilead’s rules isn’t easy. Even if the girls manage to keep them all, they’ve been told by the “Aunts” who run their school that their very existence is a temptation to men: “You are not blameless, girls. Shame on any of you that tempt a man!”
As if that wasn’t enough pressure, Agnes finds herself tasked with shepherding Daisy, a “Pearl”—teen girls from other countries who have converted to Gilead’s convoluted faith system in the hope of becoming wives themselves someday.
Agnes’ friends warn her that Pearls always tattle on the Plums they shadow, reporting any minor infraction to the Aunts. And Daisy reeks of devoutness. You should tell on her before she tells on you, Agnes’ friends encourage.
But Daisy seems different from the other Pearls. She blanches when the Plums are asked to condemn a man. She vomits when she witnesses that same man’s punishment. And she spews out a string of swear words in shock—words that would almost certainly result in the removal of her tongue if the Aunts had overheard.
Luckily for Daisy, the Aunts didn’t overhear. And Agnes promises to keep Daisy’s secret.
Why? Well, through Daisy, Agnes begins to wonder whether the world outside Gilead isn’t as evil as she has been taught. Perhaps Daisy’s reaction—one that Agnes quietly sympathizes with—is the correct one. Perhaps Gilead’s violence and stringent punishments aren’t what God demands from His followers after all.
Many viewers may have thought they’d seen the last of Gilead when Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale wrapped last May after six seasons. But Margaret Atwood, who penned the original 1985 novel, wrote a sequel that was published in 2019 (perhaps spurred on by the TV adaptation’s success). Thus, we now have The Testaments.
Gilead hasn’t changed much. It’s still a dystopian, totalitarian regime, and viewers bear witness to every blood-filled moment. Breaking the law might result in a trip to the gallows. Those who avoid that fate may find their wrists ending in a stump rather than a hand. And if you speak out against the violence, Gilead may just remove your ability to speak altogether.
Because The Testaments focuses more on Gilead’s children than its adults, the sexual content seems to be toned down. At least early on, there’s no nudity, and sex scenes occur off camera.
Unfortunately, rape and sexual assault are still very much a part of the fold. Agnes is molested (over her clothing) by the father of her best friend. Guardians assigned to her school leer at the teen girls—and we’re told that one man was caught “abusing” himself on the grounds. And because this is Gilead (and because this show is rated TV-MA), I wouldn’t be surprised if more horrific acts follow in the episodes to come.
With all of that, it’s probably not surprising that the show includes plenty of swearing (including the f-word) and abuses of God’s name, too. Conspirators plot to bring down the regime, often in ways just as violent as the methods of Gilead itself.
It seems that The Testaments is trying to show viewers how war, politics and religion can deeply affect children. But frankly, most of us probably didn’t need a show to tell us that. Which makes The Testaments little more than a money grab based on shock value.
(Editor’s Note: Plugged In is rarely able to watch every episode of a given series for review. As such, there’s always a chance that you might see a problem that we didn’t. If you notice content that you feel should be included in our review, send us an email at letters@pluggedin.com, or contact us via Facebook or Instagram, and be sure to let us know the episode number, title and season so that we can check it out.)
When Plum Agnes Mackenzie is asked to shepherd Pearl Daisy, she wonders what motives the Aunts, or Daisy herself, may be hiding.
The Plums at Agnes’ school are summoned to an “assembly,” where they are asked to sentence a man for allegedly masturbating on school grounds. One teen, seeing who the man is, expresses delight, since she thinks he is “gross.” When prompted, all the girls begin screaming in anger, demanding that the man be punished for his actions. The Aunts running the school praise the teens for this, telling them that it is their duty to uphold Gilead’s laws. The girls then watch as the man’s arm is sawed off: He screams in terror and pain, and we see blood spurting from the limb in the blurred background of the scene.
Daisy does not join the Plums in their shouting. She becomes sick to her stomach and flees the room, spitting up bile in the hall outside. Agnes, noticing Daisy’s distress, follows her. Daisy spews out a string of f-bombs, using the Lord’s name in vain. After regaining her composure, Daisy apologizes for swearing. She initially begs Agnes not to tell the Aunts what she said, but then, feeling guilty, she questions whether confessing might be the right course of action. But Agnes promises to keep Daisy’s secret, offering to pray with Daisy and noting that God is much more forgiving than the Aunts.
A crow picks flesh off a corpse. When a teen girl expresses disgust at this, an Aunt tells her that “God’s justice is beautiful,” going on to explain the dead man was a criminal. A couple of men leer at Agnes and her classmates.
Agnes narrates the story, explaining that she isn’t sure what year it was, since reading a calendar could lose her a finger. She hints at the brainwashing that she and her friends were subjected to under Gilead’s rule. At school, she and her female peers don’t study science, math, literature or anything else that might require them to read or write (which is against the law). Instead, they study art, music, “comportment,” domestic management, hospitality and other skills befitting Gilead’s wives. They are all repeatedly told that it is their holy duty to bear children. And they are discouraged from having “best friends,” since that allegedly leads to secrets, which leads to disobedience, which leads to immorality.
When she was a little girl, Agnes says, she was forced to stand in her school’s dining hall for two days with her mouth taped shut while holding a sign that read “slut” because she had smiled at a boy on the playground. The Aunts who run her school reinforce the notion that men are not responsible for lust, women are. They tell the Plums that four men were hanged for raping a girl. However, they also imply that the rape was the girl’s own fault.
Agnes and her classmates, we’re told, will be eligible for marriage as soon as their menstrual cycles begin. (And they’ll likely be wed to much older men.) She notes that only young, possibly fertile girls who immigrated from outside Gilead are given the opportunity to convert to Gilead’s religion and become Pearls. Agnes and her friends talk about the marriage offers their fathers may receive for them. And Agnes says this process makes her feel like a prized pig.
We learn a woman’s tongue was removed, apparently for blasphemy. Agnes’ stepmother, Paula, says the tongueless woman is an “improvement,” since their last servant was too “chatty” for her liking. Paula is rude to Agnes and their household staff in other ways. Agnes expresses her disdain for Paula by punishing a doll that resembles the woman: She locks the doll in a dollhouse attic and smashes its head under a window.
Teen girls talk frankly about their menstrual cycles and changing bodies. After using the bathroom, a girl picks up her underwear, which has blood on it from her first period.
The girls at Agnes’ school sometimes act petty and bully each other. Several encourage Agnes to make up a lie that Daisy has broken a rule, since they believe Daisy will eventually do the same to Agnes. But Agnes believes this would be cruel, since it would result in Daisy getting punished for something she didn’t do.
An Aunt smacks several girls with a riding crop to get them to straighten their posture. Someone secretly breaks the law by listening to a radio broadcast from the outside world.
Agnes and her classmates curtsy and lay offerings at the foot of a statue of Aunt Lydia, whom their school is named after. Agnes explains that Lydia was “worshipped, then vilified, then worshipped again” for her work in Gilead. Lydia, who is still alive, seems to think the statue is silly, but she doesn’t stop the worshipful acts. Elsewhere, a girl is scolded for thanking an Aunt, since she should be thanking God. However, when the girl asks forgiveness, the Aunt grants it.
Several converted Pearls pray together, thanking God for saving them from the evil of their pasts and the outside world. These teens are frequently presented as religious zealots, eager to prove their worth by ratting out their peers for any infraction of the rules. People exchange religious platitudes, such as “Blessed day,” “May the Lord open” and “Praise be.” People pray before a meal.
We hear five uses of the f-word, one use of “a–,” two misuses of Jesus’ name and a couple of misuses of God’s name.
Emily studied film and writing when she was in college. And when she isn’t being way too competitive while playing board games, she enjoys food, sleep, and geeking out with her husband indulging in their “nerdoms,” which is the collective fan cultures of everything they love, such as Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate and Lord of the Rings.
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