You must watch this!

So my daughter calls and she askes, “Have you see ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel’?” and I say, “No, but I’ve heard a lot of good things about it,” and she says, “Forget hearing. Seeing. You have to do seeing. What’s with hearing? See.”

So, my wife and I started watching. It’s on Amazon and if you don’t have Amazon streaming, GET IT, because if you don’t see this show, you will regret it because … just see it.

It turns out it was created by Amy Sherman-Palladino who it turns out created “The Gilmor Girls,” which I never wanted to see but because “Mrs. Maisel” is so BRILLIANT, I now have to try “The Gilmor Girls,” which I keep trying to spell “Gilmour,” because I’m so very, very sort of British.

It’s like Sally Hawkins and Francis McDormand and Meryl Streep: whatever they’re in I have to try even if they’re reading from telephone books and I actually have a fantasy where Sally Hawkins and Francis McDormand are reading dueling phone books with great and changing emphasis – as enemies, as lovers, as friends, as aliens from weird planets – and suddenly Meryl Streep shows up and starts reading from a GERMAN phone book and Hawkins and McDormand are very confused because they don’t speak German and they don’t know why Streep is there anyway and I explain to them that it’s my fantasy and she’s in it and that’s that.

And, I tell them, the phone book thing is kinda boring, so can they do something else and they get nasty about it, complaining that it wasn’t their idea and that it’s my fantasy so it’s my fault and I say, “Hey! Stop acting like stars,” and they hurl the phone books at me and the German one really hurts because, well, you know, it’s German, and they stalk off but it’s OK because for a while at least I really enjoyed listening to them read the phone books, until I didn’t.

I just saw Sally Hawkins in “Maudie,” a biopic of Maude Lewis, the Nova Scotia artist whose work reminds me a little of the work of Grandma Moses. The movie is amazing because Hawkins is incredible as this little arthritic woman who finds the will, the determination, to create art through her pain. Crazy great.

I loved her best, though, in “Fingersmith,” the film based upon Sarah Waters’ novel which was also terrific. There is NO WAY you figure out the twist. BAM! Right out of the blue. And the way Hawkins changes the point of view of her character shows why I’d go far out of my way to see her.

I told Brenda at the library the other day that if Sally Hawkins walked in and screamed at me for an hour, I’d pull up a chair and enjoy the show. And McDormand would come in and scream at Hawkins which would get Hawkins off my case unless, suddenly, McDormand started screaming at me and then they’d both be screaming at me, in changing characters, and, of course, Streep would come in and start screaming at them in NORWEGIAN which would confuse them but with instantly made up sign language, they’d convince Streep to scream at me along with them and suddenly they’d all be screaming at me in URDU which, oddly, they all understood but of course I do not so I’d just have to enjoy the show without subtitles which I don’t think I could get in the air of the Lyndeborough library. You need some kind of screen.

And then I would say, “Sally! Frances! Meryl! Stop yelling. You’re such yellers. Why don’t we get some coffee and just talk? Brenda has coffee here. We can drink, we can talk, we can … Where’re you going? Hey! Come back. This is my fantasy, dammit.”

And Brenda would say, “Mike, what’re you yelling about?”

And I would say, “Didn’t you see them? Sally, Frances and Meryl?”

And she’d call the police and they’d take me away.

But …

If you haven’t seen “Maudie,” or “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel,” or “Big Little Lies,” all of which are incredible vehicles for incredible actresses who do brilliant jobs, you gotta see ’em.

And in “Mrs. Maisel,” you get the plus of Luke Kirby’s portrayal of Lenny Bruce. I own most of, maybe all of, Lenny’s albums, have read a great deal about him, and have seen a couple of films and while Kirby is a little overweight for Lenny in ’58, he’s got the mannerisms and at least the tone of voice. (For an opposing viewpoint, Google Susan Silver Mrs. Maisel and you’ll get one, oh boy you’ll get one.)

Anyway, you have to see all of those things or you’ll be sent to the Island of People Who Don’t Watch Good Stuff.

Once I establish it.