For a while there it felt like Masters of Sex was starting to develop the same problem as Nashville: too many characters, not enough development. So “Fight” comes as a welcome relief. All episode long, Bill and Virginia play house — naughty, nasty house — and uncover each other’s secrets in the process, much like we do early in the process of falling in love. I wish every episode of Masters of Sex were like this: a fever dream dressed up in a luxurious hotel robe instead of a lab coat. The show took stunning risks — in the boxing symbolism that could have felt played, in the emotional vulnerability between two leads who typically tiptoe around their feelings, in committing to a single storyline, in attempting historical accuracy a la Mad Men — and they all paid off. Welcome to the big leagues, Masters of Sex.
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