After four glorious seasons, our time with the cussing, daddy-loving, mostly well-intentioned televangelists of The Righteous Gemstones comes to an end with tonight’s series finale.
I’ve been dreading this day since the final season was announced, and in the past few weeks, I’ve been reflecting on this blessed project from Danny McBride, David Gordon Green and Jody Hill.
After rewatching Eastbound & Down and Vice Principals, it’s clear that the Gemstones highlights the trio’s growth as storytellers. I wonder if that’s due to the additional time spent exploring the universe and its quirky characters. (There were only 2 seasons of Vice Principals, unfortunately). That longer runway allows every main character, as well as many supporting ones, to have an even fuller emotional arc.
When we meet the Gemstone family, they’re more divided than ever as they continue to grieve the death of Aimee-Leigh, the matriarch and heart of the family. The siblings are at odds and completely lost. Jesse is struggling with his son Gideon going no-contact, Kelvin is in denial about his feelings for his friend and right-hand man, Keefe, and middle child Judy is fighting to establish herself among the men of the family while secretly living with her fiancé, BJ.
Season 1 is the crudest, with the characters at their most unlovable, reminiscent of the brashness of early Eastbound and Vice Principals.
But as the seasons progress, the Gemstones begin to soften and become much less reprehensible. Sure, Kenny Powers gets there too, but there’s a vulnerability in the Gemstones that elevates this Rough House production to a new level.
Is that Edi Patterson’s influence in the writers’ room? I’d say so. I’ve never seen a female character quite like Judy, and that’s thanks to Patterson’s impeccable comedic timing, delivery and storytelling behind the scenes.
But the true saving grace of these emotionally immature siblings is their rock-solid, loyal, and empathetic spouses. Their unnaturally patient partners-in-crime let them be their chaotic selves, forgive their outbursts and infidelities and help them grow into better people.
Let’s take a closer look at their impact.
Amber Gemstone
At the center of Jesse and Amber Gemstone’s relationship is an unshakable loyalty. Amber has stood by him through infidelity, blackmail, murder plots and enough scandals to sink a lesser marriage. Some might call it denial; others, devotion. Either way, she doesn’t flinch. And Jesse always finds his way back to her. She’s his fire, his check and his co-conspirator in faith and fraud.
They share a hunger for power, image, and influence. Zion’s Landing, ministry millions, spin control — it’s all a joint venture. Their marriage isn’t just a bond. It’s a brand. And they protect it like salvation depends on it.
What truly fuels them is a warped but undeniable emotional dependence. Jesse needs Amber’s clarity. Amber thrives on Jesse’s purpose. When he unravels, she sharpens. When she fumes, he scrambles. Their love language is part strategy, part spectacle.
And credit where it’s due: Cassidy Freeman is perfectly cast. She brings edge, poise, intelligence and quiet authority to a character who could have easily been sidelined. As the wife to the eldest boy who would be king, she commands attention without ever shouting for it. She’s the immaculately dressed successor to Aimee-Leigh — sharp, steady and composed.
I can’t wait to see what she does next: hopefully, stepping into the role of Grace in Danny McBride’s upcoming adaptation of the Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires.
BJ Barnes (the scene-stealer)
There are few comedic actors who could hold their own against Edi Patterson’s Judy Gemstone, but Tim Baltz is absolutely up for the task in every single scene. Whoever came up with his profession (grocery store pharmacist) and all of his random millennial-coded hobbies (stripping and roller blading) and love for an ice-cold goblet of whole milk deserves an Emmy.
BJ is an outcast through and through, the sole liberal atheist of the spouses, but he is a perfect match for Judy, the middle child who’s spent her life trying to fit in with her brothers. Their relationship defies conventions, and BJ, with his easygoing nature, handles her unpredictable meltdowns with grace.
Whether she’s raging over being overlooked or insulted by her brothers, he can take the punches. He supports Judy but also holds her accountable, sharing his own feelings in a way that helps her grow.
When BJ gets hurt in a pole-dancing accident in season 4, Judy is devastated and becomes his caregiver, a role she is not destined to play. While caregiving doesn’t come naturally to Judy, she gets a much-needed assist from Amber, who shows up with BJ’s unexpected saving grace— and Judy’s new archenemy—Dr. Watson, an emotional-support capuchin monkey. (FYI, service monkeys are trained and available to help people with disabilities.)
Without a doubt, the scenes between BJ and Judy are my favorites. They are just as quotable as anything that Uncle Baby Billy says, which is a friggin’ feat considering the unhinged brilliance that comes out of that man’s mouth.
Through the seasons, we watch BJ and Judy marry and get to know each other on a deeper level. She even learns to manage her emotions in the end, because best believe S1 Judy would’ve sent Dr. Watson to the upper room when he threatened to off her with that blowdryer in the bathtub in the penultimate episode of the series.
Tiffany Freeman
Uncle Baby Billy Freeman may be Walton Goggins’ magnum opus. He cusses so good with his Southern drawl, has a penchant for bumps of china white and is as ambitious as Daniel Plainview from There Will Be Blood.
He has some children he don’t really mess with, but his heart currently belongs to his jovial, ultra-devoted fifth wife Tiffany (played to perfection by Valyn Hall). Now it takes a certain kind of gal to keep up with the shenanigans of the “Misbehavin’” singer, and Tiffany is her. She grew up in poverty and lacks some foundational skills, but the Gemstones help her figure it all out when Baby Billy gets cold feet about her pregnancy and ghosts her, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.
Tiffany has 2 children for Baby Billy—Lionel and Aimee-Leigh Jr— but Baby Billy is more interested in chasing fame, money and legacy than fatherhood. In the final season, we can see his ambition take its toll on Tiffany, who questions why he needs to go so hard now that they have enough money to live well.
But Baby Billy is in his 60s, or maybe 70s, and in a late-life existential crisis. He needs to make enough so that Tiffany and the kids are taken care of; after all, someone’s got to be able to pay their villainous but loyal nanny.
In the end, it’s Tiffany who truly anchors Uncle Baby Billy, allowing him to chase his latest—and possibly greatest—dream: Teenjus. While his ambition is as relentless as ever, it’s Tiffany who’s there, steady and unwavering, through his late-life existential crisis.
She picks up the pieces when he falters, supporting him as he dives headfirst into his masterpiece. Even as Baby Billy chases fame, money and legacy, Tiffany is the one who reminds him that, despite it all, he’s got a family to stand behind him.
Keefe Chambers
Kelvin saved Keefe from Satanism, and then Keefe saved Kelvin with his unshakable love and quiet protection. If there’s one storyline I wish the show had given us, it’s their wedding. These two friends-turned-lovers earned that moment, and it would have been the perfect payoff for their slow-burn devotion, especially if the show continued into its fifth season. (Post-finale update: Squeallllll. Am I a legit Miss Cleo?)
Arguably, no Gemstone spouse goes as far as Keefe in pursuit of their partner’s happiness. The clearest example comes in the lakehouse episode, when Keefe, ever devoted, decides to do some dress-em-ups and slips into one of Aimee-Leigh’s old dresses to pose as her ghost. His mission? To convince Eli to break up with Lori, just to ease the pain it was causing Kelvin.
(I don’t know how anyone in a scene with Tony Cavalero gets through it without breaking, because his articulation and physical ticks crack me up every time.)
Naturally, the plan goes sideways and Keefe gets absolutely wrecked by the Gemstones’ strong German nanny—but the intent is what matters.
His love for Kelvin is steady, unconditional and quietly heroic. Keefe doesn’t need praise or recognition. He just shows up, again and again, in whatever way Kelvin needs him, even if that means a ghostly performance in his boyfriend’s late mother’s church dress.
Aimee-Leigh Gemstone (The Beloved Matriarch)
At the heart of The Righteous Gemstones is the love story of Eli and Aimee-Leigh, the original holy duo. Their marriage had its complications—Eli was an ex-enforcer with a knack for violence, and Aimee-Leigh was a gospel star with the patience of a saint and a crude younger brother—but their connection was solid as the Rock of Gibraltar.
She balanced Eli’s gruff exterior with warmth, humor and a deep well of faith. She was, without question, the most morally sound Gemstone, which in this family is saying quite a lot.
Even after her death, Aimee-Leigh’s influence lingers in every corner of the Gemstone empire. The kids are still trying to live up to her example, whether they know it or not.
Jesse married Amber, who has Aimee-Leigh’s strength and a Bible-verse-for-every-occasion grit. Judy found BJ, a gentle soul who loves hard and somehow thrives amid chaos. And Kelvin has Keefe, whose loyalty, quiet service and unexpected flair might actually be the closest match to Aimee-Leigh’s spirit—if she were into dress-em-ups and martial arts.
They’re all a little lost without her, but she gave them a blueprint, messy as their execution might be. In a show full of frauds, grifters and misguided believers, Aimee-Leigh was the real deal. And even in death, she’s still the one holding the family together.
I’m really going to miss spending my Sundays with the Gemstones, and I’m holding out hope that these ridiculous, lovable messes of people find their happily ever afters.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a series finale to watch—with some tissues, popcorn and an ice-cold Cherry Coke Zero.
Danger Bowie 
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