I can't believe we never saw this side of Deborah before on Hacks

Hacks has never shied away from pulling back the layers of some of its iconic characters, but Season 4, Episode 4 takes the cake for this one. This episode in particular offers an extremely raw, unforeseen, and deeply human preview of Deborah Vance, something fans have never gotten to see before.

The Max series, already admired for its razor-blunt wit and emotional depth, hits a new trend by letting us fans see not just Deborah’s determination or pride, but also her fright. And for Hacks, that’s quite monumental.

---

The moment Hacks took a turn: Deborah’s unravelling

Until now, Hacks has mainly outlined Deborah Vance as a powerhouse— rigid, biting, and always wanting to stay in control. But the fourth episode of Season 4 penetrates that false impression with some surprising clarity.

During her dress rehearsal for the late-night show, Deborah stops mid-monologue, suffering what appears to be a panic attack. In true Deborah style, she obstinately announces it is a heart issue, asserting it must be a cardiac arrest, and instantly lashes out:

“It’s Ava’s bad writing. That’s what’s killing me.”

This isn’t just a scene of comical glance. It's denial drenched in generational trauma. Hacks neatly laces this scene as a bigger commentary on Boomer outlooks towards what mental health is supposed to be like according to them.

Deborah doesn’t know how to utter a simple word/phrase like anxiety attack because for her, that equals being a sign of weakness.

A heart issue is something she can easily wrap her head around—it’s physical and ‘medical’ both. The show lays this contrast out in the open and paints the attitude quite vividly.

Even Carol Burnett, who appears as herself on the show, cuts through Deborah’s misunderstanding with ease and kindness:

“Pick one person in the audience and do the show for them.”

When Deborah later stops again, she glances her eyes through the audience—and sees only Ava. That’s the person. The only person. And Hacks makes sure we as the audience feel and see that in the deepest way possible.

---

Why this version of Deborah feels like the real one on Hacks

Hacks has constantly been good at exploring the tightness between ego and having this sense of vulnerability within a character. But until this point, Deborah’s disguise has hardly ever slipped this far.

The result from Ava’s viral comedy compilation, the Berkeley hullabaloo, the fire story, and Deborah's constant pursuit to finally land Late Night all circle back to a woman who’s not just struggling for relevance but fighting to hold her identity all together.

Ava recommends a public request for forgiveness when Deborah is facing backlash for her old-fashioned jokes. Deborah at first refuses.

“Comedians don’t apologize.”

Ava forces back, bringing up her privilege and responsibility, saying,

“You want a spotlight that big? You better be ready to stand in it.”

That confrontation says a whole lot about how Deborah is now slowly being evolved as this newer character in a way. And she does make an apology. She changes. The show doesn’t pronounce it with elaboration —it just slowly happens, and that’s its brilliancy.

And then there’s the club scene: Deborah, after taking in some poppers, is now passed out. It’s bizarre and sad. Ava is the one who gets the hospital call because she’s still listed as an emergency contact for Deborah.

And when they get out of her room to sit in the waiting area and watch their show debut together, it’s quite delightful, and it’s an authentic and beautiful moment shared between the two of them, something that has been rare until now.

---

Hacks Season 4, Episode 4 is questionably one of the show’s best hours, not because it’s the showiest, but because it risks Deborah Vance’s character falling apart.

And from that falling, we see a character recreated with humbleness, anxiety, and, yes, affection.

For all its allure and chaos, the show has always been about human connectivity—and we’ve never felt that more obviously than in this intensely moving, messy episode.