Nick’s death in 'The Four Seasons' is heartbreaking, but I feel the twist paid off in more

When I first began watching The Four Seasons on Netflix, I thought I had the entire show mapped out. It was snappy, a bit snarky, and certainly capitalized on the nostalgia of friendships growing older not-so-gracefully. But then, at about the midpoint of the show, everything flipped. Nick — the most emotionally stable character, played by Steve Carell — is killed. Abruptly. Off-screen. One second, he's off to buy groceries following a ski trip fight, the next he's dead like that.

I didn't expect it. And when it came, it really came. But as shocking and heartbreaking as it was, Nick's death wasn't merely a plot twist. It was a conscious turning point — one that changed the show from something cleverly funny to something profoundly human. That shock, though painful, ultimately made the show more real than I ever could have anticipated.

The transition from cutting comedy to silent mourning in The Four Seasons

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A sudden tragedy

Nick's death wasn't TV dramatic in the classical sense. There were no impact scenes, no bedside goodbyes in the hospital. He just… didn't return. And amidst that silence, the show pulled off one of its most daring gambles. Following a playful fight with Ginny, he heads out of their ski cabin to pick up groceries. That's when the accident occurs — off-camera and with no fanfare.

It seemed unnervingly realistic, the sort of thing that actually does occur in life: sudden, unjust, and irreversible.

Not in the original film

That level of twist would have been unimaginable in the 1981 movie adaptation of The Four Seasons. That tale leaned into the dysfunction and weirdness of marriage and friendship, but never approached tragedy.

The Netflix remake, on the other hand, takes a storytelling risk. And it pays off — not because it's sensational, but because it earns the emotional resonance that comes next.

What Nick's absence did to everyone else in The Four Seasons

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Anne's anger, then empathy

Anne, Nick's former wife, is perhaps most impacted. Initially, she responds with bitter hostility, particularly to Ginny, the younger woman with whom Nick had been involved. When Ginny appears at the funeral and is later discovered to be pregnant, Anne excludes her.

I could understand her reflex. But as the episode progresses, that anger dissolves into something more subdued — sorrow. And when she eventually includes Ginny in the group picture at the end, it's not forgiveness, per se. It's more complicated: a decision to move on.

Kate and Jack reevaluate everything

And then there's Kate and Jack. On the surface, they were the "stable" ones — Tina Fey and Will Forte's characters who had everything under control. But Nick's death shatters that facade. It compels them to confront the awkward distance that had insidiously developed in their marriage. And instead of letting it kill them, they lean into vulnerability. Seeing them have real, hard discussions felt like a soft reboot of their relationship.

Danny and Claude get clarity

For Danny and Claude, the couple arguably the most unruly throughout the series, Nick's absence takes away the noise. Grief clears things up. Their dynamic evolves — not in a showy manner, but in simple decisions and actual moments. It's not big, romantic gestures; it's hanging around even when things feel shattered.

The funeral and the finale of The Four Seasons: Messy, just like life

The funeral episode affected me differently. It was not neat or cleansing. It was uncomfortable. Everyone said the wrong things. Feelings seethed beneath the surface. And that, genuinely, made it just right. Because when someone like Nick passes on, there is no blueprint for how people ought to behave.

Ginny's pregnancy announcement could have gone total drama, but it didn't. Instead, the show kept it in check. Sure, it made things more complicated. But it also grounded everyone back in Nick's memory in a different way. The group photo at the end — with Ginny sitting among them — wasn't about filling his spot. It was about recognizing that, whether they wanted it or not, they were still bound together.

No neat bows, just honest endings

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What I admired most was that The Four Seasons didn't attempt to tie everything up with a bow. It didn't imply that grief disappears or that everyone gets closure. Rather, it left space for the mess, the awkwardness, the unfinished feelings, the messy relationships that grief tends to leave behind.

The overall tone of the series wasn't optimistic in a cheesy sense. It was real. Life continues, but differently. People remain attached, but sometimes begrudgingly. And sometimes, the best that we can do is include someone in the photo, even when that photo is incomplete.

Why the twist mattered in The Four Seasons

Nick's death was not simply about rocking the boat. It was a story device that stripped away distractions and made every character confront what they were trying not to face — relationships, regrets, lost opportunities. His death became the emotional center of the show.

And no, it wasn't for shock value. The writers — Tracey Wigfield and Lang Fisher — were definitely going for more than tears. They employed the twist to increase the comedy's bite, the characters' honesty, and the emotional rewards. It wasn't lost for dramatic effect. It was about letting the audience — and the characters — feel something authentic.

I still wonder about Nick's absence whenever I reflect on The Four Seasons. That single decision — to take him away so abruptly — transformed everything. And although it was painful, it also provided the series with the emotional heft it required to resonate.

Life isn't served with tidy endings, and neither was this show. That is what kept it in my head. The surprise wasn't simply bold — it was correct.