Review: ‘Dickinson Season 3’

*This review contains spoilers.

Dickinson has written its final letter to the world, and when the Apple TV+ comedy comes to an end in the coming weeks, it will go out not with a bang, but with a soft, hopeful dignity. Alena Smith’s coming-of-age story about Emily Dickinson has spent the last two years baffling, charming, and eliciting strong reactions from both audiences and critics alike, and the show’s third and final season is no different. What starts off as a slow, curious examination of whether or not Emily Dickinson can be considered a war poet eventually explodes into a flurry of some of the most ambitious episodes in the show’s 30-episode run. However, when the dust settles, the show flickers back down to a quiet hum in its series finale — finally giving Emily Dickinson the ending she deserves. 

Emily Dickinson is at war. Literally. The season premiere opens on Emily (Hailee Steinfeld), rifle in hand and a cap on her head. Donning a soldier’s uniform, she hurtles through a Civil War battlefield as cannons fire and men drop around her. When she makes it across the field she lands on her own front porch, breaking down the front door and running through her family home as if it is the bloodied battlefield we just saw. When she enters her bedroom she is clean, the soldier’s uniform has been replaced by her typical black gown, and Alena Smith’s message is clear: while the Civil War rages in the United States, Emily’s war is familial, and her weapon of choice is her poetry. 

The Dickinson family is the main cast at its best. Jane Krakowski’s Mrs. Dickinson is, as always, an absurd comedic highlight who reaches real highs and lows (a bit too literally in episode 5, “Sang from the Heart, Sire”), while also managing to have a number of emotional, touching moments. While season 2 appears to have been Anna Baryshnikov’s moment to shine as Emily’s younger sister Lavina, season 3 doesn’t stop her from proving that she is just as wild and creative as her sister. Adrian Blake Enscoe and Toby Huss as Austin and Edward Dickinson, Emily’s brother and father, are perhaps the most changed from the show. While Edward isn’t nearly as intimidating or mean-spirited as he was in season 1, he isn’t the beacon of hope that his children (and community) once thought him to be. His unwillingness to change is one of the escalating factors in Dickinson’s own civil war, spearheaded by Austin, who is drowning under the weight of his responsibilities and his father’s expectations. This season’s guest stars are a joy to experience, and all of them are equally tumultuous in their own right. From Billy Eichner’s loud and frenzied Walt Whitman to Ziwe’s outrageous Sojourner Truth and Chloe Fineman’s unhinged and manic Sylvia Plath, I laughed uncontrollably at every word they uttered.

As I made my way through the first three episodes, I kept pondering if this singular question of whether or not Dickinson was a war poet would be enough to fill the 10 episode season. The show seemingly answered the question in the season premiere’s opening narration which, as in past seasons, is done by Ella Hunt, who plays Emily’s sister-in-law and lover, Sue. And while these episodes are filled with engrossing moments that further flesh out the characters while paralleling the Civil War era with today’s world in a tongue-in-cheek manner (“When do we get to go back to normal” one of Emily’s friends dejectedly questions), I had a difficult time imagining how the remainder of the season would play out. The classic Dickinson charm was there, but it seemed to lack the urgency the final season (and story) required.

My concerns and apprehensiveness vanished completely by the end of episode 4, “This is my letter to the World.” For the first time in the season, the Civil War and Emily’s personal conflicts were blended so seamlessly and effectively that it was inconceivable that the final season could have been constructed any other way. After spending time grappling with whether or not her poetry can be a method of healing a wounded nation, Emily goes in search of advice from two of the era’s most influential literary figures, Walt Whitman and Colonel Thomas Wentworth Higginson (Gabriel Ebert). Emily (through means I will not spoil in this review) is taken under Whitman’s wing, and learns that one of the keys to writing work that resonates with people is to feel joy and pleasure as well as pain. Meanwhile, Higginson welcomes a familiar face into his office — Henry (Chinaza Uche), who ended season 2 leaving Amherst after helping fund John Brown’s failed raid on Harper’s Ferry with his secret abolitionist paper. Henry is brought into the 1st South Carolina Volunteers, the first official Black regiment in the Civil War, by Higginson to teach the men how to read and write; as he sets out to establish a community with his fellow Black soldiers, the dual storylines clicked into place for me. 

Henry being a character foil to Emily is not a new idea, but it has never been as effective or fleshed out as it is throughout the final seven episodes of the series. Henry wants his work to serve a purpose and benefit the greater good, as does Emily, and both characters spend the season trying to single-handedly hold their communities together. Smartly, the show never states that Henry and Emily’s struggles are the same — due to her class and race, Emily will always be awarded freedoms that Henry is not. The show lays out their stories in a way that complements one another, providing a satisfying narrative while allowing both characters to undergo their own journeys. To see this parallel in action, stay tuned for Episode 6, penned excellently by recurring cast member Ayo Edebiri.

Of course, this review would not be complete if I didn’t discuss Emily and Sue. Perhaps more than anything, the relationship between the two women is the aspect of the show that fans have latched onto. After an angst-filled last season between the two, fans searching for something similar to that of the first season will be pleased. Emily and Sue are the most open and communicative we’ve ever seen them be with one another; however, that doesn’t mean everything is sunshine and happiness all the time — and that’s a good thing! Historically speaking, the two had a complex relationship, and the show is careful to never insinuate that just because they are in love, that they’ll never have conflicts. They’re in a tough situation to begin with, living in a time period that will never allow their love to be celebrated. Furthermore, both Sue and Emily go through major changes in the season that they are grappling with continually. The most important thing I took away from their relationship this season is that, without a doubt, Sue is the only person who really gets Emily. While the rest of her family struggles to understand her, it is Sue that is able to call Emily out when she needs it and support her to the fullest extent; there’s a reason that it’s Sue that narrates Emily’s history at the beginning of every season. Stay tuned for the large sweeping romantic scenes, the tender stolen moments, and a needle drop that is sure to make you cry. My Emily Dickinson Spotify playlist is vindicated!

The final season of Dickinson has plenty of staggering, impressive episodes (Episode 8’s inferno sequence is sure to be a stunner), but it was the soft, dreamy series finale that took my breath away. In a show as bombastic as Dickinson, my original thought was that there was no other option for an ending other than something larger than life. I was wrong. The episode, which serves as Alena Smith’s directorial debut and was co-written with R. Eric Thomas, feels like any other day in Emily’s world. As the Dickinsons welcome an unexpected visitor to see Emily, we get to see her, for better or worse, through their eyes. It shows how her relationship with her family has (or hasn’t) changed throughout the series, and it seems to be typical Dickinson hijinks. However, when Maggie, the Dickinsons’ beloved maid, describes old Irish folklore — that in times of war, no matter how brutal, the poets should be spared — the finale becomes something truly special. Every small detail packs a punch, and those familiar with the real Emily’s life will be overjoyed at the biographical inclusions made. 

I wondered if the final episode would acknowledge the latter half of Emily’s life — and in its own way, it does. But unlike the few other pieces of media that depict Emily in every stage of her life, Dickinson stays true to its coming-of-age roots, and I’m so glad it did. When Dickinson ends, it is with Emily in her prime, embracing her power as a poet. It ends with a series of quiet, beautiful scenes that leave you knowing that she was loved. It ends on a note so hopeful and adoring of its subject matter, that I found myself choking back tears just at the thought of it days later. Through brilliant and imaginative storytelling, the writers give one of the greatest American poets the chance to finally write her own ending. And in the roar of a Civil War, Emily Dickinson bows out: graceful and triumphant. 

Dickinson will begin its final season on November 5th, with the first three episodes available to stream simultaneously before transitioning to a weekly Friday release leading up to the series finale on December 24th.