Early on, the show veered close to making Rebecca seem actually unhinged. But it found a balance: She was, at once, in love with Josh and in love with the idea of being in love with him. She’d bought into the notion that finding The One is the answer to all your problems, whether loneliness or career stress or childhood abandonment.

It worked largely thanks to Ms. Bloom, who gave us a character both damaged and self-aware, hyperintelligent enough to outsmart herself. Childhood flashbacks revealed Rebecca as a pleaser, a self-destructive A-student desperate to win back her absentee father and impress her mother (Tovah Feldshuh, who storms into town klezmer-style with a tour-de-force of Jewish-mom judgment: “You’re looking healthy/And by ‘healthy’ I mean ‘chunky’”).

“Girlfriend” is the most explicitly Jewish series this side of “Transparent,” and its specificity only starts there. It’s suburban-SoCal diverse, as represented in the finale by Josh’s sister’s wedding, which Greg describes as “a chain hotel with vaguely French décor and Italian food being served tapas-style while a Filipino girl is marrying a Jewish guy.”

The series is committed to the idea that every character can carry a story line, any person can be more than they appear. Even “Grocery Clerk with Half an Eyelid” (Benjamin Siemon) introduced as a throwaway line in a song, turns up in a later romantic subplot. Josh is dimly laid-back — that’s half his attraction to stressed-out Rebecca — but proves to be perceptive and soulful. (The series’ one blind spot is Valencia, who remains one-dimensionally vain and marriage-obsessed.)

The happiest surprise may be the music, considering the demanding pace, 18 episodes with two or three songs each. It’s hard to pick a favorite: Greg tap-dancing to the second-banana’s anthem “Settle for Me”; the girl-group sendup of faux-empowerment, “Put Yourself First”; or “J.A.P. Battle,” in which Rebecca and her childhood rival Audra Levine (Rachel Grate) — “two hard-as-nails she-brews from Scarsdale” — trade burns “8 Mile”-style.

“Crazy Ex-Girlfriend” hasn’t completely worked out its kinks; I’m not sure it can spin out the Greg-or-Josh dilemma much longer without sacrificing the characters. But this is the sort of show whose kinks are part of its charm. Fortunately next season, it’ll be back outside your window, asking you to love it faults and all. Consider giving in.