Spotlight: And Just Like That…Che is a Landlord

I can’t explain Che Diaz to you

Aug 31, 2023

The Yearning Rating: ✰✰

This And Just Like That… review was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, TV series like this one would not be possible. The Yearning is grateful for the artists who do this work and we are not being paid to promote any content (lol).

Spoilers ahead for Season 2 of And Just Like That…

Written by Meg Steinfeld-Heim1

I will start by saying that it took 142 years to watch the second season of And Just Like That...Am I alone in this? I feel like ages passed, wars were fought and lost, while most characters lived through 3-5 major live events apiece (breakups, hookups, apartment sales, falling in love, losing virginity, shepherding their children through careers in child modeling) over the course of eleven episodes. When I was complaining about how long it felt to watch through this season to a friend, he reminded me that the episodes are almost twice as long as the original show’s. The way I used to zip through an episode of SATC always made me feel desperate to watch just one more. I don’t feel that way (at all) about AJLT!

Whine, whine, wine. I could’ve brought you another review of this only-slightly-better second season in its entirety, but I thought it more pressing to instead deep dive into the turbulent, genderfluid waters of Che Diaz.

Che Diaz is the cringiest character I have ever seen on television. Che’s introduction in Season 1 of AJLT was meme fodder—among my queer, chronically online circles there was an unspoken understanding that the character was a hyperbolic, overblown piece of representational arm candy. Che’s very essence gleamed with a try-hard, Boomery patina. The absolute cognitive dissonance of seeing Che perform the most social justicey and unfunny comedy set to a crowd of guffawing Netflix “Comedy Concert” attendees was literally painful. Watching them felt like watching an AI-generated human interpretation of the NYC Pride March.

In these new episodes, the question has shifted from “Is Che a real person?”—because, unfortunately, there are absolutely people in this world who act and talk like Che—to, “Is Che a good person?” In watching Season 2, I couldn’t help but wonder…was Che ever supposed to be likable? I spent these eleven episodes reckoning with Che’s now-apparent villain arc. Let me elaborate. This season seeks to cut Che down a bit. First, they get called fat (by a…fat costumer??). Then, a showrunner pressures them into an inauthentic portrayal of themselves in the pilot that is supposed to be their big break. When their performance is ripped to shreds by a genderqueer New Yorker in a focus group, the network drops their pilot. All of these very real and sucky hurdles could’ve been an opportunity for And Just Like That…to explore the ups and downs of the entertainment industry2 and what it's like to lead with your queerness in a creative, professional context.

Moments before a genderqueer Bushwick dyke took them down [Max]

But instead of Che processing these developments, leaning on friends or Miranda for support, or, dare I suggest, going to therapy…they transform into the most selfish and childish 46-year-old to ever grace the homepage of Max. Some key points I want to tackle, from least to most offensive:

Che’s Apartment:

The second Che hears that they’re going to be shooting a pilot, they rent an apartment in Manhattan. (Their friendly ex-but-not-divorced husband is there too…more on this later.) When welcoming Miranda and Carrie over to see it for the first time, Che delights in explaining that, if their pilot goes to series, they’ll have no trouble subletting the place for more than they’re paying for it. “Now I’m part of the problem!” They say gleefully. Okay pop off, gentrification! Che is Bowser, and this boxy 1-bedroom is their Castle Koopa. They take every possible opportunity available to be annoying about this charmless, millennial gray apartment.

When things go south with the pilot focus group, Miranda is over at Che’s and practically spitting with rage at ABC, Times Square focus group recruits, and the entire television industrial complex—all in defense of Che. Che is understandably upset about the turn of events, isn’t ready for a pep talk, and wants some space. But I maintain that maybe the most insensitive thing that Che Diaz does in this entire series is send Miranda back to Brooklyn at 10 PM…FROM MIDTOWN. (To the Brownstone where the man Miranda left for Che lives!!) Queers just shouldn’t do that to each other. When I saw Miranda walking into the 34th St-Hudson Yards subway station from Che’s, I was initially confused. Why wouldn’t this “queer non-binary Mexican-Irish diva” live in Brooklyn? But then it all made sense. A villain would live in Hudson Yards.

Weaponized Therapy-Speak:

For the duration of their situationship, Che is incredibly physical with Miranda. At a minimum, this included a lot of casual touch, hugs, etc., and at a maximum meant finger-blasting her in Carrie’s kitchen while Carrie was home. A scene in Episode 6 really irked me—right after they have sex, Miranda climbs back into bed and affectionately reaches for Che. Che acts like Miranda is absolutely insane for wanting to cuddle post-coitus. Then they deliver this line with bored derision: “I’m really not in a snuggle space right now; can we just call it a night?” This was giving: I know these words will hurt you, and I’m going to say them anyway. Che doesn’t put in half the effort to communicate that Miranda does—and this behavior was so juvenile!!

Total Lack of Self-Awareness (Che Being Delulu):

When Miranda takes an emergency call from Brady during Che’s pilot episode taping, Che throws a massive fit. Che accusing Miranda of “ruining the emotional family scene”3 by trying to care for her near-suicidal son is a perfect example of just how selfish and lacking in perspective they really are.

Also, Che films Cameos from bed, inexplicably shouting at the phone at full volume when Miranda is trying to sleep. When Miranda is understandably confused, Che is instantly defensive, exclaiming, “DON’T sh*t on my Cameos. It’s the only way I can make money right now”. Okay sure—but go in the living room??

Questionable Consent:

Is anyone else thinking about this? In Episode 4, a poorly assembled IKEA couch leads to Miranda and Che sharing the only bed with Che’s husband, Lyle. (To address my earlier point, Miranda remarks many times that she “didn’t know Lyle would still be here”—another point for Che’s excellent communication skills!) When he notices Che and Miranda fooling around, Lyle just jumps in! Che just assumes that Miranda will be okay with them initiating a threesome, with no prior conversation or consent given. This is just, simply put, not the way that you explore changing your relationship dynamic. When Miranda backpedals, Che asks mechanically, “Are you okay with this?” While Miranda, panicked, tries to process and come to terms with it fast enough that Che doesn’t lose interest, Che cuts her down again—emotional safety is not hot, Miranda!

Not only is there absolutely zero foundation of communication and trust being laid here, but Che doesn’t even seem to feel bad. It’s scary, honestly! Miranda doggedly trying to participate while feeling so uncertain just underscores Che’s blatant disregard for boundaries, potential or voiced.

I also felt the strap-on conversation from Episode 1 was a little iffy. Che doesn’t make space for a reality that differs from what they want or planned. I feel like Che belittles and almost bullies Miranda for being a baby gay. If you can’t handle the baby, don’t rob the cradle!

Hey, it's Che Diaz. — “Hey, it’s Che Diaz.” [Max]

The Real Danger of Che Diaz:

Just like how Che won't explain themselves to people, I won't explain them to you. But this is what I can say—Miranda is always on the back foot in her dynamic with Che, desperately seeking level ground. And Che never gives her that—Miranda is always left scrambling to counter their tempestuous presence. Maybe, as a queer person, I was hoping for representation that felt a little more balanced. That being said, there should always be space on TV for the Jenny Schecters of this world—I always say, gay people can be bad people, too 😈 But in this case, my concern really lies in the target audience for this show. I worry that Che’s onscreen toxicity might lead to some inaccurate and dangerous associations for the standard AJLT (white, cis, heterosexual) viewer.

What if some people misinterpret Che’s “indulgence” in their marginalized identity as justification for blatant disrespect and unkindness towards Miranda? There is a dangerous conservative mentality that equates queer self-expression to selfishness, frivolity, and hypersensitivity. With Che as the only non-white, nonbinary character, the spotlight is on them and their unfailing selfishness—and viewers’ loyalties already lie with Miranda.

When Che writes an entire comedy set that viciously attacks Miranda and their relationship, and realizes too late that Miranda actually came to the show in a sapphic display of staying friends, they chase her out of the bar, seemingly to apologize. But they don’t! They literally don’t say sorry. They’re defensive and try to justify mining their collective emotional pain for applause. After Miranda leaves, they vent: “Why am I always having to remind people who I am? I’m so f*cking tired of having to explain myself to people. Or go on stage and perform some version of myself that they’ll find acceptable…” You can be a comedian, and be true to yourself and not hurt people. It is a slippery slope to even remotely equate Che’s actions to some tenant of their queer, GNC, non-white selfhood.

Say this villain arc was entirely intentional. If that’s the case, then why does Miranda seem so clueless about it? Even after the comedy setastrophe, Miranda reiterates to Che that she never thought of them as “a bad thing that happened in my life”. If you want to lean in and claim that Che was never meant to be likable, then by all means, go ahead. But that should be backed up by the perspective of the brainy, level-headed, most boots-on-the-ground character in the whole show. Or at least someone–anyone–in the show?!

The only shred of evidence that Samantha Irby has to support the claim that the writers of AJLT are “in on the joke of Che Diaz” is the believable Bushwickite in the focus group, tearing Che’s character to pieces. This was a good—if desperate—attempt at self-awareness!

Addendum:

Maybe, à la classic SATC fashion, Che was never meant to join the ranks of the “ladies that brunch”. Instead, perhaps their destiny was always the league of Evil Exes—like Big4, Trey MacDougal, Jack Berger, and more. I think if And Just Like That… had been able to maintain any of the fun whimsy of its predecessor, this wouldn’t bother me. But it’s specifically because AJLT is trying so hard to repent for its white, hetero sins that this rubs me the wrong way.

Next week The Yearning will be on break, celebrating the last gasps of summer. See you in September!

I’ve been forgetting to change my name on here lol

Because Lisa Todd Wexley is getting Ken Burns’ed even though I have no clue what her documentary is about.

To be fair, it was shitty of Miranda to sneak her phone into the taping…and leave the sound on…SMH. If your son is in crisis, maybe just skip the taping altogether

For a time