Apple TV ‘Margo’s Got Money Troubles’ Episode 4 Review - Finding Connection in Chaos

By the time I reached Episode 4, “Buddies,” of Margo's Got Money Troubles, I had a pretty solid sense of the show’s tonal balancing act, but this episode leans more deliberately into connection. Not the idealized kind, but the messy, conditional, sometimes transactional bonds that people form when they’re out of options. It’s a quieter installment in terms of plot escalation, yet it feels like a hinge point for character alignment.

The central idea here is simple, but the execution is surprisingly layered. Margo’s life has always been compartmentalized: her strained family history, her financial desperation, her online persona, and the lingering consequences of her relationship with her professor. What Episode 4 does effectively is start dissolving those boundaries. The “buddies” of the title aren’t just friends in the traditional sense; they’re people who enter Margo’s orbit under specific circumstances and slowly begin to overlap in ways that make her situation harder to control but more emotionally grounded.

Elle Fanning continues to anchor the series with a performance that feels deceptively effortless. What stands out in this episode is her ability to shift between guarded and open without making it feel like a dramatic pivot. There are moments where Margo is clearly performing—whether for financial survival or emotional self-protection—and others where she drops that layer just enough to let someone in. Fanning doesn’t overplay either mode. She trusts the writing and keeps the character grounded, which is crucial for a show that could easily tip into caricature given its premise.

The writing, credited in part to David E. Kelley’s creative framework, remains observant rather than judgmental. The dialogue feels conversational, sometimes even offhand, but it carries subtext that rewards attention. In “Buddies,” conversations are less about delivering punchlines and more about testing boundaries, who can be trusted, who can be useful, and who might unexpectedly become both. I appreciated how the episode avoids making these new connections feel instantly meaningful. There’s hesitation, awkwardness, and a sense that everyone is negotiating something beneath the surface.

Jinx’s storyline, meanwhile, adds a different kind of energy. His return to the wrestling world is handled with a mix of nostalgia and quiet reckoning. Nick Offerman plays Jinx with a blend of humor and weariness that keeps the character from feeling like comic relief. There’s a physicality to his scenes that contrasts nicely with Margo’s more internal conflicts. What I found compelling is that the show doesn’t romanticize his history. The wrestling angle could have been played purely for spectacle, but instead it’s framed as something unresolved, almost unfinished business. It gives Jinx a purpose in the episode without neatly tying up his arc.

At the same time, this dual focus creates a slight pacing imbalance. The episode moves at a measured, almost restrained rhythm, which works for character development but occasionally makes the narrative feel like it’s idling. There are stretches where the emotional beats land, but the story doesn’t quite advance tangibly. I didn’t mind the slower pace overall, but I did notice moments where scenes lingered just a bit longer than necessary without adding new information.

Visually, the show continues to maintain a clean, understated style. The cinematography doesn’t call attention to itself, but it’s carefully composed in a way that reinforces the characters’ emotional states. Interiors feel a little cramped, a little too close, which suits Margo’s increasingly entangled life. When the episode shifts to Jinx’s wrestling environment, the framing opens up slightly, giving those scenes a different texture without making them feel disconnected from the rest of the show.

One aspect I found particularly effective is how the episode handles tone. It’s easy for a series like this to swing too far into either comedy or drama, but “Buddies” keeps both elements in play without forcing them into the same moment. Humor emerges naturally from character interactions rather than from constructed jokes, and the more serious moments are allowed to breathe. That said, there are a few instances where the humor feels a bit understated to the point of being muted. Earlier episodes had sharper comedic beats, and here the restraint, while intentional, slightly reduces the show’s immediacy.

The supporting characters introduced or expanded upon in this episode add texture, even if they’re not fully developed yet. They function as mirrors for Margo in different ways—reflecting her choices, challenging her assumptions, or simply complicating her already unstable situation. I liked that the episode doesn’t rush to define these relationships. There’s a sense that these connections will evolve, which makes them feel more believable.

Where the episode could have pushed further is in deepening the stakes tied to Margo’s financial situation. While her economic pressure is always present, it takes a bit of a backseat here to interpersonal dynamics. That’s not inherently a problem, but it does slightly dilute the urgency that has been a driving force in earlier episodes. I found myself wanting at least one moment that reasserted that tension more clearly.

Even with these minor issues, “Buddies” succeeds in what it sets out to do. It’s less about moving the plot forward in big ways and more about reconfiguring the relationships that will shape what comes next. By the end of the episode, I had a clearer sense of how Margo’s different worlds are starting to intersect, and how difficult it will be for her to keep them separate. What stays with me most is the episode’s commitment to showing connection as something imperfect and often inconvenient. These aren’t relationships that solve problems; they complicate them in ways that feel honest. And that honesty, more than anything else, is what keeps me invested in the series.

Final Score- [8/10]