'Your Friends & Neighbors' Reveals the Truth About Paul Levitt's Death

Spoilers

The Your Friends & Neighbors finale didn’t play out the way I expected after last week’s episode. Elena did steal the money from Coop’s safe, but that turned out to be a misdirect. She didn’t kill Paul Levitt. There was no grand conspiracy involving Christian, the art dealer, and the pawn shop owner. In fact, there was no murder at all.

Creative writing 101 says you should never end a story with a suicide or a dream. There are great exceptions, but I’m not entirely convinced this finale qualifies. If this were a murder mystery, the reveal would be underwhelming — there were no breadcrumbs leading us in this direction. But as a relationship drama, it works, even if it doesn’t totally satisfy.

After agonizing over his trial for most of the episode, Coop almost agrees to a plea deal: eight years in prison (out in six) for a crime he didn’t commit. The evidence is stacked against him, and taking the deal seems safer than risking a life sentence. But after a bleak night with his kids, fearing the worst, and watching his sister lead a “Fuck Bruce” chant during one of her performances, Mel shows up to his house. She demands Coop fight for his life in a way he never fought for their marriage. She seals the plea with a kiss (Jon Hamm and Amanda Peet have insane chemistry), and Coop decides to reject the deal and go after the real killer.

To do that, he enlists Elena — who owes him one for stealing from his safe — to break into Sam’s house. The burner phone Sam used to carry on her affair with Coop is the only evidence that might exonerate him. But instead of the phone, they find something better: Paul’s suicide note.

Here’s what happened: the night Sam went to Boston to stay with her parents, Paul broke into the house to see her. He was hysterical, told her if she didn’t take him back, he’d kill himself. And then he did exactly that, on FaceTime. But Sam knew his $20 million life insurance policy wouldn’t pay out in the case of suicide. She wasn’t about to waste twenty years of marriage sleeping under that sweaty monster for nothing.

So she snuck out of Boston, drove home, took the suicide note, and shot Paul’s corpse twice more to make it look like a murder (The autopsy would later show two of the gunshots were post-mortem.) Sam was perfectly willing to let Coop spend the rest of his life in prison for a murder that no one actually committed.

In fact, Sam threatened to shoot Coop if he didn’t hand over the suicide note, but he called her bluff and walked away with it. The charges against him were dropped. Sam was arrested but ultimately released, and as Coop explained to Mel, she’ll probably face nothing more than a fine and community service — since she hadn’t yet collected the policy, it wasn’t technically insurance fraud.

A free man, Coop is offered his old job back — on better terms, no less, because the firm’s biggest client refuses to work with anyone else. He’s warmly embraced back by his kids; he shares a sweet but noncommittal moment with Mel (they still clearly care for each other but decide to remain single for now); and he accepts the fake smiles and congratulations of his “friends and neighbors” at a charity gala. Then, he makes a decision.

“Because the hard truth is,” Coop says in voiceover, “once you see the chaos behind the curtain, you can never really watch the show the same way again.” He can’t go back to his old job. So while everyone else is at the gala, Coop sneaks into one of their homes and steals a pricey painting. If he’s going to rob people, at least he’s being honest about it — as a thief instead of a money manager.

And that’s a wrap, at least until season two. There are still plenty of loose ends. Coop is now a professional thief, which obviously carries some risk. He and Mel aren’t back together, and she’s also unemployed. Elena still needs money to bring her parents to the States. Sam, for whom Coop oddly still has some sympathy, will have to figure out how to maintain her lifestyle without her ex-husband’s money. And Coop’s unmedicated sister? She closes out the episode by spray-painting “Fuck Bruce” on her ex-fiancé’s garage door. She rocks (and her performance of Hole’s “Doll Parts” was insanely good).

Where season two is headed remains unclear (though Apple TV+ has renewed the series), but creator and novelist Jonathan Tropper delivered a very novelistic first season; there’s no reason to think he can’t pull it off again. The whole series has been an unexpected delight, and the best thing that Hamm has done since Mad Men (no offense to that Fletch movie). I’m stoked for season two.