fourthofgoodbye

[fourthofgoodbye]

Duster (Max)

Duster (Max)

Drama

Logline: Set in the 1970s Southwest, a gutsy getaway driver + a young FBI agent take on a notorious crime syndicate.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

Despite (co-)owning five of them in my life so far, I have never been a car guy, just preferring a safe vehicle that will get me from Point A to Point B. Max's newest drama, co-created by LaToya Morgan + J.J. Abrams, may not change that fact, but it certainly gave me a new appreciation for the titular cherry-red Plymouth Duster coupe.

Duster is an early 1970s Arizona-set organized crime thriller that delivers car chases, an delightful aesthetic swagger, and an unfortunately-always-timely look at anti-Blackness. Based on then-recently-deceased J. Edgar Hoover's DEI mandate, the first Black female FBI agent in the Southwest faces off against one of her greatest enemies: misogynoir, the unique intersection of misogyny + anti-Blackness. Thankfully, she cultivates a similarly-overlooked found family, in her Indigenous male detective partner + a white female secretary, with whom she shares similar (but still different) struggles. A later fight against full of anti-Black men who face punishment for their antagonistic racist remarks involves a Black man who lived through segregation teaming up with his white male driver, in a good example of solidarity. The remarks in both situations, while some may find them relics of a bygone era, are sadly still quite relevant but don't feel excessive in their force. The series also explores the recent trauma of losing a loved one, which also gets an compelling undercurrent of a potential betrayal by someone they thought they could trust. There is also a group of female truckers who band together to seek better treatment from their jobs, especially when it comes to the literally rank mistreatment by their male coworkers. Elsewhere, a woman keeps the true parentage of her daughter from her while allowing her biological father to come around as her uncle. The series is like a Southwest garage sale, a collection of oddities that add to the unique charms of the location. One undercover mission takes place at a psych ward that leads to a chilling slasher moment. Another plot involves stealing Elvis Presley's blue suede shoes by partnering with Adrienne Barbeau, who later appears in the episode playing a different character in a meta dream, and Elvis' manager Colonel Tom Parker. The action hardly stops there, with kinetic car chases + fight sequences. The main characters also seem refreshingly devoid of simmering romantic tension (though it wouldn't be a surprise if that eventually poked through), which allows the series to focus on the investigations. Overall, the series is an aesthetic dream, from the period-appropriate styles (the hair in particular is glorious) to a superb soundtrack that includes needle drops from Syl Johnson, Otis Redding, Jimi Hendrix, The Staple Singers, War, and Curtis Mayfield. The scorching heat + sun-drenched desert roads of the milieu also get ample shine. All but two of the nine series regulars are POC, including a Black female lead.

Josh Holloway is a fun lead as Jim, his conditioned locks swaying in the wind as he handles his muscle car with the same aplomb as his more tender scenes, lovingly sniping with Camille Guaty's truck driver Izzy + her precocious daughter Luna (Adriana Aluna Martinez), who believes Jim is her uncle instead of her biological father. Rachel Hilson also is breakthrough fantastic as Nina, capable of delivering the wordy detective work, calls to her mother for encouragement, and navigating the offensive office banter with ample heart, steely resolve, and a suave charm bigger than her beautiful Afro. Asivak Koostachin's likable partner Awan (and sometimes Sofia Vassilieva's secretary Jessica-Lorraine) is a man who struggles with his own demons as he visits the Navajo reservation, providing both a savvy sounding board + solidarity in being overlooked for his race. Greg Grunberg's boss Nathan Keith David also remains a living legend as local mob boss Ezra Saxton, employing his distinctive crushed velvet bass voice to chewing scenery with his signature pathos-drenched undercurrent shining through in the tender moments. Sydney Elisabeth's daughter Genesis + Benjamin Charles Watson's son Royce both have good but complex connections with their father Ezra, with both desiring more responsibilities from their father but receiving different amounts of attention. Corbin Bernsen's Wade + Gail O'Grady's Charlotte do well in scenes with Holloway's Jim, with the former having a warm relationship as his guarded but friendly father, while the latter fights with (and even rats on) Jim for interrupting his father's time with her. Also putting in nice appearances are Ester Omegba, Mikaela Hoover, Donal Logue, Patrick Warburton, Peter Murnik, and Rigo Sanchez as assassin Enrique The Blade.

The fourth episode ("Criminalus Velocitus Super-Sonicus," ****), my fave, endangered Royce as Jim accompanies on him on an Ezra mission that doubles as a getaway from Enrique The Blade, while Nina + Awan visit the Navajo reservation after a clue that introduces more of Awan's life, Izzy rallies fellow female truck drivers against a sexist boss, and Nina + Awan uncover their next clue. The pilot ("Baltimore Change Everything," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character intros, nice action sequences, and two good cliffhangers. The second episode ("Suspicious Minds," ****) pushed Jim to steal Elvis' blue suede shoes in exchange for Sunglasses dealing with Wesson, while Nina + Awan's investigation reveals more about Nina's past with Ezra, Genesis bumps heads with Royce + Jim about her place in Ezra's business, Jim spends more time with Luna, Wade makes a surprise appearance, and a cliffhanger brings a new player into the mix. The third episode ("You're No Good," ****) sent Jim with Ezra on a fruitful, eventful trip, while Nina + Awan go undercover at a mental institution to speak to a dangerous Breen, Abbott backhand compliments Nina, and Jim finally cements his work with Nina.

The series is an FBI drama, which is an understandable dealbreaker for some. Despite its co-creator Abrams' résumé, there is no secret alien or supernatural conspiracy afoot (at least thus far). Even with the high-octane title + occasional car sequences, the series does feel a little slower out of the gate While entertaining, the side quests can feel like distractions from the overall story of how Jim will help Nina bring down Ezra. Interestingly, the series feels a bit devoid of long-term stakes. Nina's position, while tenuous + certainly would constitute a hostile work environment by today's standards, doesn't seem too threatened. Same with Jim's connection with Ezra, which seems to only be strengthened (at least on Ezra's end) by the end of the fourth episode. Taking down Ezra's organized crime definitely feels like a series goal (as opposed to a season one), which offers an opportunity for higher short-term stakes that the series has not offered strongly enough yet. Genesis + Royce aren't really fleshed enough beyond some initial observations: ambitious Genesis is underestimated by Ezra for being a woman, while Royce feels his health issues (including the heart transplant that constitutes Jim's first mission in the series) are holding him back. Izzy's feminist stance at work will likely later connect to the organized crime of it all, but it still feels too disconnected to cohere with the main storylines. More about why Izzy wanted to keep Jim at a kind of distance with Luna, and why Jim goes along with it, would be helpful to flesh out their characters.

Duster is an early 1970s Arizona-set crime drama featuring style + substance, with game performances, weighty themes, and flashy aesthetics. Despite storytelling + character bumps, this series is not done + dusted in my queue.

Team: J.J. Abrams (creator, ep, writer), Sue Chung (writer), Darren Grant (director), Steph Green (director, ep), LaToya Morgan (creator, ep, writer), Rachel Rusch Rich (ep)

Series Regulars: Josh Holloway as Jim, Rachel Hilson as Nina, Asivak Koostachin as Awan, Sydney Elisabeth as Genesis, Benjamin Charles Watson as Royce, Camille Guaty as Izzy, Adriana Aluna Martinez as Luna, Greg Grunberg as Abbott, Keith David as Ezra

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Bad Robot Productions, TinkerToy Productions, Warner Bros. Television

[fourthofgoodbye]

Adults (FX)

Adults (FX)

Comedy

Logline: Codependent 20-something housemates navigate adulthood together despite their flaws.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ***

When I was in my early 20s, an early 40s guy whose advances I had rejected tried to curse me by saying that one day I'd be his age and young guys around my current age would reject me for being too old (ironically, I wasn't rejecting him for his age, but his ugly attitude). FX's newest comedy focuses on geriatric Gen Zers navigating their own curse: youth.

Adults is a Queens-set Zoomer hangout sitcom that pays homage to its predecessors while showcasing how some in their generation approaches the quarter-life crisis age. As obvious inspiration Girls once discussed being "the voice of our generation" (abbreviated to "the v of our g" in a Google search here), the series also takes elements of Friends, Sex and The City, and especially Broad City and applies that found family in NYC template but now with a sheen of more advanced, pervasive technology + the oft-controversial inclusivity that Gen Z proudly demands. Internet stalking goes to an entire new level with an AirTag used to track a potential himbo hookup for a housemate while screensharing on the living room TV. Even if that AirTag is not on a hunky guy but on one of NYC's not-small rats. One character has a remote job that seems to only requires an occasional "uh huh" on off-camera Zoom meetings to maintain. The jealousy (and even FOMO) of an acquaintance gaining viral social media attention for being molested at work captures a certain fascination this newest generation to enter adulthood has with fame. An attempt to help pay off a friend's crushing medical debt by selling off a hidden shotgun at a gun store cringely goes awry because the owner may present a seemingly-offensive way but actually may have more understanding than might be expected. The comedy lying partially in how even an "understanding" generation can be caught in misunderstandings of their own making. However, these kinds of wince-inducing interactions are also treated as par for the course for an early 20-something. The series capably represents its characters as masking their profound insecurities with confidence. Sure, they might not know how to write a check or who Al Gore is, but as the characters sort their own lives out, they traverse a bunch of relatable, if sometimes ridiculous terrain. A so-called "friend slut" whose inability to form more than transactional connections (often saved in his phone's contacts with their most memorable aspects of their interaction) struggles to date because of intimacy. Another friend seizes a moment of responsibility by overstepping his place, leading to the classic "help that actually hurts" problem. Setting the series in Queens, while perhaps not as visually an evocative piece for non-New Yorkers as Manhattan (or arguably Brooklyn), is a nice storytelling move; one meant to position the series as uniquely in its own corner. Three of the five series regulars are POC, including leads who are of Black, South Asian, and Lebanese descent, plus one out gay series regular who is playing an out gay character.

Malik Elassal does nicely as Samir, a sort of failure-to-launch finance guy who can't seem to get a job but his ever-vacationing parents graciously let him live at their house gratis, while he can't seem to help but to get in his own way, like his first interview in a while or trying to ask exes if he was a bad person. Lucy Freyer is similarly lost as Samir's high school friend Billie, who loses her job after overplaying her hand trying to take advantage of her older co-workers' fear of younger people and goes into debilitating medical debt, actually gets a more intriguing storyline with Daredevil: Born Again star Charlie Cox's Mr. Teacher (as he's credited on iMDB), whom she immediately does not tell her housemates about. Best of all are Amita Rao's Issa + Owen Thiele's Anton. Rao delivers major Ilana Glazer homage (if not the same street savviness) as she infuses Issa with similar big sexually-liberated energy, especially with Jack Innanen's sexually-fluid goober boyfriend Paul Baker (exclusively referred to be his full name, which I will also do). Thiele, who is already getting much more of a showcase in the early episodes than on Amazon's Overcompensating, not only can claim the best comedic timing of the cast (he's the "uh huh" Zoomer), but also has perhaps one of the most intriguing storylines as he navigates his intimacy issues.

The fourth episode ("House Rules," ****), my fave, established new house rules including Issa + Paul Baker trying to help Anton break his hook-up freeze, Samir getting a job, and Billie to stop visiting her old high school, while Issa's AirTag goes on a wild journey across the city that they track, Billie's day with Mr. Teacher ends with a celebration, Samir gets a job, and Billie + Anton decide to keep secrets. The pilot ("Pilot," ***) set everything up okay, with good character moments, two silly plots, and a questionable ending. The second episode ("Spit Roast," ***) tackled hospitals as Billie goes in for an issue and names Samir as her proxy, while Issa's chagrin at not being chosen as Samir's proxy leads her to the chapel, and Samir's help turns out to be an issue. The third episode ("Have You Seen This Man?," ***) faced Anton's "friend slut" issues when one of his many contacts may be a neighborhood stabber, while Samir + Paul Baker attempt to sell a shotgun to help compensate for Billie's medical bills, Issa encourages Billie to incorporate sex into her recovery, and the stabber visits again.

I am somewhat proudly over the hill, so this series is likely not for me. However, this series made me feel so disconnected from what Gen Z may find funny. Like, is getting high on cocaine and trying to fix a broken water heater with nothing but a YouTube video stuck behind a paywall, hilarious? What about the cold open where Issa masturbates on the subway to stick it to a subway pervert? Though it could be interpreted as poking fun at both subway masturbators + the perceived extraness of Gen Z worldviews, it feels like it lacks any further commentary that elevates it beyond an attention-grabbing moment, especially as the first time we meet these characters. Similar with Samir mooning his Zoom interviewers, especially in the context of his pilot episode concerns about possibly being sexually inappropriate with an ex. I honestly don't know what to make of this, except that maybe Samir should be seeking therapy over his behavior (which he has not so far, and would be a great thing for the series to examine). Similarly, the series often tackles interesting topics but doesn't offer much insight into them. For example, when their friend becoming more notorious in the pilot, Issa + Billie could have been propelled to try to seek fame in their own way. A "Defund the police, but" joke feels like it could be edgy, but it's more used to make fun of décor than anything systemic. The fourth episode is mainly my favorite because of the beautiful leaps in character development for Billie + Anton, which could have definitely come earlier to help the audience connect with + fall deeper in love with them. However, most of the other characters don't get nearly enough development. Mr. Teacher's intervention into Billie's medical debt story actually made me yearn for a more experienced adult to help shepherd this lost flock better, not just for their own sakes but for the series' too. The characters' friend chemistry may feel lived-in ("mind wipe" before sharing a secret the person wants forgotten after they say it) but I not only feel like their personalities are a bit too similar to tell them apart on the page but I feel a disconnect from them as an audience member. Showing the housemates all comfortable performing bathroom functions together does point to their closeness, but I'm more curious about why Billie + Anton are hiding things from their friends than if they can go to the bathroom in front of each other when they don't have to. Despite playing a non-heterosexual character in Paul Baker, Innanen has insisted he is actually heterosexual, disappointing given that the series offers plenty of other opportunities for meaningful representation.

Adults is a Queens-set quarter-life hangout sitcom about a cringey friend group, with nice performances + insightful looks at Zoomer culture. Even with storytelling + character issues, there's enough potential here that this series will likely grow on me.

Team: Karey Dornetto (ep), Jonathan Krisel (director, ep), Nick Kroll (ep), Ben Kronengold (creator, ep, writer), Sarah Naftalis (ep, writer), Stefani Robinson (ep), Rebecca Shaw (creator, ep, writer), Anu Valia (director), Alicia Van Couvering (ep)

Series Regulars: Malik Elassal as Samir, Lucy Freyer as Billie, Jack Innanen as Paul Baker, Amita Rao as Issa, Owen Thiele as Anton

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): FXP, Good At Bizness Inc., Harlequitten Inc., Home Team, Little Fatties

[fourthofgoodbye]

Murderbot (Apple TV+)

Murderbot (Apple TV+)

Comedy

Logline: In a high-tech future, a rogue security robot secretly gains free will. To stay hidden, it reluctantly joins a new mission protecting scientists on a dangerous planet... even though it just wants to binge soap operas.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

When I got a marketing job with a streamer, my mom was understandably skeptical that I was getting paid actual money to watch TV series all day, something she would withhold as punishment when I was younger. Apple TV+'s newest comedy, based on Martha Wells' The Murderbot Diaries novel universe (which I have admittedly not read), follows a protagonist who also just wants to watch TV all day; they just happen to be a SecUnit (Security Unit robot bodyguard).

Murderbot is a futuristic sci-fi comedy about an advanced android who gains liberating sentience but is relegated to protecting a chaotic group of hippie-coded scientists on an unexplored alien world. Humor in sci-fi is often either incidental but subservient to the drama, or used as a way to satirize the genre's technospeak + cultural misunderstandings with other forces. However, both genres are treated with respect here, even in a scene where a small spaceship's landing gear is used to crush an enemy multiple times. Even one of the TV series the android protagonist often consumes,The Rise + Fall of Sanctuary Moon, is a Star Trek: The Original Series send-up (down to an inspired casting choice of captain) that is nakedly wacky but also treated seriously. Unlike many other android stories, the robot (who I will refer to be he/him pronouns to humanize him like the series does) may have gained sentience by hacking his governor module but it refreshingly is not seeking to become more like humans, whom he despises for their biological + emotional weaknesses. There is also some pokes at liberal virtuesignaling around treating the robot as a human, chafing at treating their SecUnit like an enslaved servant causes the humans distress. Yes, his human bosses do end up treating him more like a teammate (and Murderbot does have some biological components), but he does not seek equitable treatment or even their empathy. Even though he does remind the audience in a funny moment that he doesn't have a stomach (so he can't throw up at the humans' ridiculousness), he also finds eye contact particularly distressing, which makes a tense, silly scene where he must do it in order to not break his cover during a pseudo-interrogation. The titular robot hiding his sentience provides a bunch of opportunities for classic sitcom misunderstandings, as well as a lot of fruitful tension that the series harvests nicely. For example, the idea of giving a thank you speech after rescuing the humans makes Murderbot yearn for the acid bath awaiting him if his sentience is discovered. That he, like the humans he dislikes, uses premium TV dramas to distract from his boring present is funny until it starts slowly interfering with his job responsibilities, distracting him from acknowledging a danger. The series also become a source of inspiration for his own life when he uses dialogue from an episode to help a distressed colleague. That this act of empathy is the first clue that he is not functioning as usual is also both funny + intriguing. Interestingly, one interpretation could also be that Murderbot is actively using TV to distract him from dealing with the trauma around his last assignment, which is appropriately (if transparently) obscured by fragmented memories. His understanding of humans, largely from watching TV, is less condescending than indifferent, especially when it comes to their expressions of love + sexuality. He views a new throuple (with fingerprinted consent!) as just as repulsive as another team member creepily sniffing the pillow of another while they are out on a mission. Murderbot's voiceover is also effective because it offers an unseen or not as obvious perspective. There is also hints at anti-capitalist commentary around how this research team chose the least expensive SecUnit after the corporation overlords who approved their mission required them to take one for insurance purposes. Outside of the social commentary, the sci-fi elements are excellent, with a gigantic, menacing centipede-esque alien monster and a short but brutally-effective SecUnit vs. SecUnit fight as highlights. The alien world is also gorgeously rendered, as are the tech gadgets, as befitting its streaming home. The series also wins for its inclusive casting, with all but the lead as POC, including a Black female co-lead, as well as a non-binary actor as part of the polyamorous situation.

Alexander Skarsgård, also an executive producer, is a surprising delight as Murderbot (aka SecUnit #238776431), translating Skarsgård's stereotypical Scandinavian stoicism into a droll, misanthropic android, a meta commentary on his Ken Doll looks (which match his character's [lack of] genitalia) and an opportunity for the usually-quite-serious actor to take on an asexual, neurodivergent, agender character to showcase his sleeper comedic skills. Noma Dumwezweni is also sublime as team leader + terraforming expert Mensah, a mix of anxiety, empathy, and unexpected chutzpah (her fourth episode turn, in particular, made me cheer out loud) that makes her a good maternal foil for Murderbot, with their sometimes-awkward scenes together popping as some of the series' best. David Dastmalchian is also a stand out as tech expert Gurathin, a cybernetically-augmented human who instantly bumps heads with Murderbot as they have digital genital-measuring contests because Gurathin correctly suspects Murderbot has superseded his programming, which would put them all in danger, but he also has an odd obsession with Mensah. Tamara Podemski's geochemist Bharadwaj seems to be processing her trauma after being nearly killed by the centipede monster in questionable ways, like stealing soap. Tattiawna Jones + Sabrina Wu (who uses they/them pronouns) make a nice couple as biologist Arada + lawyer/scientist Pin-Lee, who, with mixed thoughts, welcome Akshay Khanna's bro-y wormhole expert Ratthi into their relationship, with Arada seemingly most interested in Ratthi but Ratthi most interested in Pin-Lee. Their comedic chemistry does supersede their romantic chemistry as Ratthi often foot-mouths over his bro-y actions and Pin-Lee is concerned about Arada's PTSD at witnessing Bharadwaj's near-death. DeWanda Wise, John Cho, Clark Gregg, and Skarsgård's IRL BFF Jack McBrayer also portray characters in the aforementioned space opera that Murderbot is obsessed with, and they give it their gorgonzola all.

The fourth episode ("Escape Velocity Protocol," ****), my fave, set a dangerous ticking clock as Murderbot fights for his self-determination when another rogue SecUnit threatens his very programming, while depressing insights into the SecUnit's life cycle are shown, Mensah reluctantly pulls rank on Pin-Lee, Ratthi's faux-macho attitude ends up backfiring on him, Murderbot has a fun fantasy sequence, Pin-Lee + Arada uniquely help in the fight, and Murderbot takes a drastic step to stop his devolution. The pilot ("FreeCommerce," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character moments, wild sci-fi moments, and a nice cliffhanger. The second episode ("Eye Contact," ****) ups the suspicions from the crew of Murderbot, leading to Gurathin carefully confronting Murderbot about his memories, while the crew's return to their work brings danger to a disoriented Mensah, Arada + Pin-Lee agree to join a throuple with Ratthi, Bharadwaj recovers, and two big revelations shake up the status quo. The third episode ("Risk Assessment," ****) sent the team to cautiously investigate the DeltFall's non-responsiveness, while Gurathin's creepiness is exposed, another new Murderbot TV series is introduced, small cracks in the polycule appear, Bharadwaj's recovery might be shakier than she lets on, and Murderbot faces an unexpected threat.

This series is a perfect example of one that I enjoy but I don't know if I can enthusiastically recommend to folks because the humor + setting are so specific. While there are farcical elements of the series, I wouldn't say this is a satire per se. As such, the humor doesn't seem to be targeting wider, broader laughs that poke at sci-fi tropes, and its mix of dry, brisk humor might not always resonate. Relatedly, the series can be light on plot, with really only the fourth episode providing the biggest forward momentum once the DeltFall massacre is revealed and investigated. The first three episodes felt more like getting to know the characters (which is good) but less on a rallying, urgent plot point (which isn't good). Though the half hour episodes are nicely constructed, with juicy cliffhangers (especially the third + fourth episodes), there is definitely an argument that hourlong episodes might actually benefit the series' momentum. Though Murderbot, Mensah, Bharadwaj, and Gurathin get moments to shine, Arada, Pin-Lee, and Ratthi still feel underwritten, with their still-nascent throuple being the only thing that they really get to do that doesn't directly involve the ongoing crisis. I also dislike mainstream media's disdain for non-monogamous relationships, inordinately prioritizing an exclusive two-person configuration that statistically ends in divorce about half of the time. Despite both playing non-heterosexual characters, Jones + Khanna have not made any public statements about sharing sexualities with Arada + Ratthi.

Murderbot is a futuristic sci-fi comedy that honors both genres and a slightly-different take on the usual android story, with delightful performances, a specific but wicked sense of humor, and stunning visuals. Despite structure, character, and storytelling bumps, this series slays.

Team: Toa Fraser (director), David S. Goyer (ep), Keith Levine (ep), Andrew Miano (ep), Alexander Skarsgård (ep), Chris Weitz (creator, director, ep, writer), Paul Weitz (creator, director, ep, writer)

Series Regulars: Alexander Skarsgård as Murderbot, Noma Dumezweni as Mensah, David Dastmalchian as Gurathin, Sabrina Wu as Pin-Lee, Akshay Khanna as Ratthi, Tamara Podemski as Bharadwaj, Tattiawna Jones as Arada

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Depth of Field Productions, Paramount Television Studios, Phantom Four Films

[fourthofgoodbye]

Dept. Q (Netflix)

Dept. Q (Netflix)

Drama

Logline: A former top-rated detective is wracked with guilt following an attack that left his partner paralyzed and another policeman dead. On his return to work, he is assigned to a cold case that will consume his life.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a sometimes-debilitating mental disorder that about 10% of US adults develop at some point in their lives. Netflix's newest drama, an English-language TV adaptation of Danish author Jussi Adler-Olsen's book series (and already with six feature film adaptations to date, with more on the way), explores PTSD in a job field likely filled with it.

Dept. Q is a Scotland-set police drama about a found family solving two harrowing cases. The first case is the cold case of a presumed-deceased prosecutor who a new investigator does not believe is deceased (and he's correct). The second case focuses on who shot the hero during an earlier investigation that was unfortunately captured on oft-replayed body cam footage + shoddy animation. Taking the cases across multiple episodes (if not the season) is my preferred way to consume detective stories like these, so things aren't wrapped up in pretty bows by the time the credits roll and there is genuine tension. The protagonist's PTSD-fueled prickliness is widely spread in his professional + personal circles, and the kind of behavior often tolerated when it's by intelligent white men but not by many others. However, the ragtag team is coalescing nicely: a seasoned detective with a chip on his shoulder + a waiting-to-burst dam of PTSD with his partially-paralyzed partner and two underestimated fellow investigators - a Syrian former cop + a somewhat-green cadet who if not for the modern era this series is set in may have been erroneously labeled "hysterical" for an on-the-clock mishap. Separately + together, they slowly, believably develop their working relationship to the point that they not only feel capable of eventually solving these cases but a good hangout crew, especially that their skills + personalities are complementary, and that none of them seem interested in romantic entanglements with each other (though the series is still young). The oft-mercurial legal system, which brings about evidence-based charges against a wealthy industrialist only for the jury to be swayed by a strategic misstep by the prosecution, gets a heartbreaking showcase. The series isn't about the rich's rot per se, but they do address potential corruption. The assignment of the PTSD-addled returning cop to head a new cold cases department feels less like empathetic workplace conduct and more like a savvy if transparent public relations move. Though this is by no means a comedy, there are pops of humor amongst the dour proceedings, some of it coming from wheel-spinning mandatory therapy sessions and a prickly relationship between a stepfather + his "jizzed up" stepson. The series also features picturesque Scottish landscapes but also the titular department's former men's bathroom headquarters, graffiti-tagged abandoned residences, and a simultaneously somewhat-spacious + claustrophobic pressurized chamber being used as an extreme form of torture for the missing woman. She must endure loud noises, terrible lighting, and cryptic conversations with her captors.

Matthew Goode is a quite good(e) lead as Carl, visually + character-wise quite separate from a chunk of Goode's filmography, is a gruff + unkempt but intelligent detective grappling with oft-intrusive PTSD in a study into the extensive, profound damage this job can inflict with a Saltines-dry wit + silver tongue deployed at anyone unlucky enough to be within his orbit. Carl does get more humanization in scenes with Kelly Macdonald's psychologist Rachel, who, like other TV shrinks, is fed up with her client's inability to open up, and actual vulnerability with his bedridden partner James (Jamie Sives), whose partial paralysis Carl feels responsible for. An excellent Alexej Manvelov's Akram is a metered foil for Carl, with detective + combat skills forged while surviving in Syria that provide a logical sounding board against his reluctant boss' know-it-all moodiness. Same goes for breakout Leah Byrne as Rose, an ambitious woman who had an on-scene incident that keeps her out of active duty, but brims with much more youthful enthusiasm that also counterbalances Carl's cynicism nicely, especially when her methods start to yield results like a factfinding mission that she deadpans also produced a future gay husband (Angus Miller's Colin). Chloe Pirrie stretches her acting muscles as prosecutor Merritt, from her courtroom drama to her up + down relationship with her brother William (neurodivergent actor Tom Bulpett, doing a lot with mostly facial gestures + William's artwork) to her extreme isolation in her cramped prison as she begins her own investigation into who is holding her. Kate Dickie's Moira + Mark Bonnar's Stephen are two sides of the same bureaucratic coin as both dislike Carl's methods + questioning, especially the latter whose pointed remarks immediately make him a top suspect in Merritt's disappearance. Shirley Henderson, Charlene Boyd, Sanjeev Kohli, Aaron McVeigh, and Patrick Kennedy also put in good appearances.

The fourth episode ("Episode 4," ****), my fave, offered a few more leads in the Merritt case for Rose, Akram, and Carl to follow, with Rose, after a boost from James, getting a lead on Merritt's Mhòr trip and Carl sussing out Merritt's love life, while Victoria delivers an unexpected Jasper truth, Carl makes a break in his own shooting case, and Merritt's captivity turns out to be not as safe as possible when she refuses to answer a question about an ex. The pilot ("Episode 1," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character moments, nice detective work, and a twisty cliffhanger. The second episode ("Episode 2," ****) brings Akram more into Carl's case work as he assists him under Moira's watchful eye, while Merritt's captors reveal a bit more about themselves as flashbacks reveal her fraught last day seen with William, Claire hampers their investigation, Rose reveals a bit more about her past, William makes a big move, and the pressure of the case from Stephen plus Jasper acting out propel Carl to have a panic attack. The third episode ("Episode 3," ****) tested Carl's resolve as his pursuit of leads is blocked by Moira + Stephen, while William proves a key piece of the puzzle, Rose lobbies Carl to join his team and reveals why she was benched, Akram pursues a lead, Rachel tries to connect more with Carl, Merritt makes a weird discovery in her captivity, and Rose figures out a clue.

This is a police series, so that could be an understandable dealbreaker for some. The series feels a bit scattered with its focus, offering a few too many perspectives and slow-rolling the more gradual approach of not solving every case by the time the "Watch Next Episode" button appears. Merritt's imprisonment, for example, does feel darker than the rest of the series, but also strains credulity. The two (possibly-married) people holding Merritt have held her for four years for what purpose and with what resources? As my writing teacher often says, these story points feel confusing rather than mysterious. One way to potentially deal with this would have been to keep the Merritt pilot cliffhanger but then keep her out of the series until deeper in the season to maintain more of a mystery. Regardless, the series' welcome desire to spread the cases' wealth across multiple episodes could also be seen as a sort of backfire because of how drawn out the case work can feel. There's a sweet spot of keeping the case work going in a more realistic, grounded pace and making a TV series with exciting twists + turns. The fourth episode is more of an episode where that approach worked, offering both detective shenanigans + personal drama (plus Merritt's scenes), but also points out how the other three episodes, while still far more good than not, faltered more in the balancing act. Though it's a great career point for Goode to showcase a more morose, biting character, Carl does not feel different enough from other disgruntled capable detectives before him to stand out much as a character. Same goes for his mandatory therapy sessions that are a common trope in these damaged cop series to bring out character development from otherwise seemingly-impenetrable damaged men. Also tropey is that of course Carl deeply despises because men getting in touch with + healing from their trauma is worse than lashing out at everyone who still allows him to be in their orbit like a hormonal teenager. Carl's relationship with Jasper feels too rote and feels pretty uninspired (until the fourth episode's reveal, which is more of a tease than a breakthrough). Akram also can be written sometimes as the "magical immigrant" trope, someone who, because of (or sometimes in spite of) their Otherness, offers insight that props up the oft-white recipient who rarely reciprocates (or, perhaps more specifically, rarely meaningfully or equitably reciprocates). Only one of the series regulars is POC, still a disappointment in 2025.

Dept. Q is a Scotland-set cop drama that explores the lasting effects of PTSD as two investigations require a new team to assemble, with lovely performances + intriguing themes. Despite storytelling, structural, and character bumps, this is one government department whose mess I can tolerate.

Team: Elisa Amoruso (director), Rob Bullock (ep), Scott Frank (creator, director, ep, writer), Stephen Greenhorn (writer), Andy Harries (ep), Chandni Lakhani (creator, writer)

Series Regulars: Matthew Goode as Carl Morck, Chloe Pirrie as Merritt Lingard, Jamie Sives as James Hardy, Mark Bonnar as Stephen Burns, Alexej Manvelov as Akram Salim, Leah Byrne as Rose Dickson, Kate Dickie as Moira Jacobson, Shirley Henderson as Claire Marsh, Kelly Macdonald as Rachel Irving

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Flitcraft, Left Bank Pictures, Sony Pictures Television

[fourthofgoodbye]

Overcompensating (Amazon)

Overcompensating (Amazon)

Comedy

Logline: A closeted former high school football player becomes friends with an outsider to fit in.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ***

Growing up LGBTQ+ is different for all of us who belong to the alphabet gang, but one thing haunts a significant number of us: our childhoods spent disguising our sexuality + gender expression to suit other people's needs at profound personal cost (for some of our siblings, the ultimate cost). Amazon's newest comedy is inspired by the personal experiences of creator, executive producer, and writer Benito Skinner (aka "BennyDrama7") that showcases the difficulties of coming out.

Overcompensating is a college cringe comedy about the closet at the fictional Yates University. The series certainly captures that oft-awkward transitional phase between people others expected you to be in high school to experimenting with who you want to be. People wanting to reinvent themselves when they move into a new situation is a trope for a reason, it's tried + true storytelling gold. Seeing how/if a person stretches themselves makes for engaging character development opportunities. Everyone deserves the chance to live authentically and the chance to decide the what, when, and how of what living authentically means to them. So, the protagonist's decision to not immediately come out to his college circle is an interesting choice for a number of reasons: societal, peer, and family pressure to conform, the outsized importance placed on certain milestones (hook up the first night or be exiled to improv, notably), and his own odd insecurities. Many of us have dealt with trying to fit in by making personality and/or image adjustments, but seeing a person stumble over things like a cute potential suitor's kindness or not coming out to a potentially-supportive new friend can bring second-hand embarrassment to an old jockstrap like me. However, some of the characters get a flawed complexity + messiness that isn't always afforded to marginalized groups, especially to the creator's own imagesake. The bearding, especially when unnecessary, inflammatory lies are told, is silly to watch, especially when the closeted one has a clear option. That romance only feels forbidden because the two people are basically standing in their own way instead of because of threats, which feels like a win for not turning these kinds of series into a form of torture porn. Yates itself doesn't feel overtly anti-LGBTQ+, which indicates that the main character's reluctance to come out feels mostly based on their own personal insecurities. That in + of itself feels like a big step in LGBTQ+ TV series, which usually have no problem often creating hostile environments for their non-cisgender-heterosexual characters to feel threatened in. The moment where two queer people have a silent but subtitled conversation about clocking (and on one side, denying) their sexualities is one of my favorite moments in the series. As with many LGBTQ+ stories, the focus is on found family, and the assembled friends feel realistically supportive + destructive. Though the education part of college blessedly feels secondary here, other aspects of college are nailed wonderfully. The no-boundaries roommates (both full-frontal male nudity + graphic girl talk), a hypersnobby film class where everyone claims their favorite movie is The Godfather (or II for real aficionados), and the amount of communicable diseases (pink eye, yuck) + alcohol/drug hangovers. The series also has a glittery soundtrack of pop hitmakers like Britney Spears, Icona Pop, Lorde, Eve, Uffie, Wiz Khalifa, Sky Ferreira, and executive producer + guest star Charli XCX. Three of the five series regulars are POC, including a romance between half-Latin (though his series parents both are white) + British South Asian guys, and a half-Mexican, half-Syrian female lead. Also, the two leads both identify as LGBTQ+.

Benito Skinner is a nice lead as Benny, alternating between riding his jock good looks + football jock/homecoming king titles with confidence to his insecurity about his sexuality, especially when it comes to the advances of Rish Shah's nice British boy Miles. Wally Baram, a stand-up comedian and What We Do In The Shadows writing room alum, is an absolute break out as fellow awkward frosh Carmen, who both deals with some of the weirdest physical comedy (she does an episode+ with pink eye, wears casts when she injures her hands doing the Edward Forty Hands challenge) and has the most compelling personal storyline not involving romance or sexuality with the grief over her older brother's passing that is hinted at but not fully explored. Stand-up comedian + Skinner's IRL podcast co-host Mary Beth Barone's Grace has already successfully-image rehabbed her pre-college self into a seemingly-popular ice queen, who behind her new svelte figure + blonde hair is definitely hiding something less sorority-friendly. Adam DiMarco, experiencing a career jolt thanks to The White Lotus, makes Peter into an alpha male who embodies pretty much every frat bro stereotype from his privileged view of his place in the world (which is nicely undercut) to his dehumanizing treatment of his girlfriend Grace to his facial hair configuration. Perhaps because she feels like she's in a different, wackier series than her co-stars but Holmes is a scene-stealer as Carmen's fame-hungry roommate Hailee, who may lack a filter in her hilarious joke-laden verbal diarrhea lines but vehemently stands up for her friends (and her love of Charli XCX). Didi Conn, Connie Britton, Kaia Gerber, Owen Thiele, Kyle MacLachlan, and James Van Der Beek, which buries the lede on Charli XCX's fourth episode appearance is hopefully up for awards off her disdain-drenched line readings about "college coke" and debasing herself to sing the episode's titular song at a college gig.

The fourth episode ("Boom Clap," ****) tested Carmen + Benny as they go through initiation hell, while Miles bonds with Benny, Grace seizes an opportunity to craft her own identity separate from Peter by being Charli XCX's stage manager, Peter receives a pyrrhic honor, Carmen + Benny make strange decisions to impress, and Peter + Miles make progress. The pilot ("Lucky," ***) set everything up okay, with good character moments, silly humor, and a nice cliffhanger. The second episode ("Who's That Girl," ***) pressured Benny to fit in with the dude-bros by making up a lie about Carmen, while Carmen tries to get a fake ID via Hailey + Trent, Benny actually talks to Miles, the cracks in Grace + Peter's relationship begin to show, Carmen + Benny try to make out, Peter makes a strange move, and another Miles cliffhanger. The third episode ("Black and Yellow," ****), my fave, pushed Benny to try to get Carmen enough campus notoriety at the alumni tailgate to get into a prestigious secret society, while Carmen deals with the weight of her brother's death day, Benny pushes Miles away, Grace reconnects with Mimi, Peter receives some bad news, and two Carmen cliffhangers.

My biggest issue is the disappointing foregrounding of the closet. Not because it's not common or because I question the authenticity of Skinner's own experiences, but because I believe closet stories are not compelling in 2025. We have seen a great variety of them before, and they're generally always similar. That is unfortunately true here from the cringey sex lies to impress straight men to the active avoiding of the LGBTQ+ club like they're contagious. This isn't coming from the 20-20 hindsight of a person who has been clockably queer since I was quite young to try to demean young folks figuring themselves out. Anyone from a Medicare recipient to a second grader who was called a "chink faggot" in their elementary school hallway can struggle with the when/how/if of coming out. However, I'm calling into question the need for the closet at all. We have seen many TV people struggle with it, but in almost all of the cases, the LGBTQ+ person is expected to shapeshift + upend their existence in order to make others comfortable. It should be the other way around. We should be actively dismantling the closet, and the need for the closet. Unfortunately, this series unintentionally reinforces why Benny's (and I'm predicting Grace too) closet experiences maybe aren't too bad or why it's okay to forgive the alpha male culture created the closet because Peter has feelings. The alpha male hypermasculinity must necessarily exclude homosexuality, a perceived feminization of Neanderthal masculine ideals springing from deep insecurities. I'm not very interested in image-rehabbing Peter who reminds me of "alpha" men who let their insecurities about their masculinity and/or sexuality lead them to bully me. A scene where frat bros drink so much of their own ego-driven, testosterone-fueled manliness that they devolve into shirt-ripping, cigar-smoking misogynistic bragging about sexual exploits that are likely only a fraction of the truth. However, it feels hollow because not much, if any, comeuppance is shown. Said a slightly different way, when it comes to LGBTQ+ representation in the Neo-Roaring Twenties, I wish our storytelling would evolve beyond the need to explain ourselves or adjust our narratives to suit the sensitivities of people who will cheer on the stereotypical gays on TV but then go to the voting booth to take away our Constitutionally-guaranteed freedoms. While I am beyond grateful we're still able to tell our stories authentically on huge platforms, I want our communities to strive for our narratives to be more nuanced or aspirational, which aren't really achieved here. My personal dislike of the closet aside, another growth area is character development. Carmen's grief feels like it was kind of glossed over in favor of not deviating too far from the series' lighter vibes, but it feels like a missed opportunity to ground her more. Miles is less a fully-fleshed out character and more of an attainable dream boy (minus when he echoes Benny's public embarrassment at people possibly speculating on his sexuality). Holmes is such a scene-stealer that I sometimes find myself more curious about Hailee than the others. Though they're playing late teens, many of the actors are almost double that age. Not to be too superficial, but it sometimes shows. I am confused about when the series is set. A nine-year-old Benny's love of Britney Spears' 2000 single "Lucky," Carmen + Benny bonding over Glee, and the most recent single Charli XCX performs is from 2017 rather than anything BRAT-related feel like a Tetris mismatch of time periods. This feels not only like an unwanted trip down nostalgia lane but perhaps more importantly, not addressing toxic masculinity as if #MeToo or the Pulse massacre had not shifted conversations is odd. Some of the other humor + situations feel a bit too trope-y. Even the pot brownies feel like an overused trope (I'd love to see stoners have to be sober instead of the opposite). Despite playing a non-heterosexual character, Shah hasn't made any public statements that he shares sexuality with Miles.

Overcompensating is a college cringe comedy that both reminds me of my own experiences + my desire for our storytelling to adjust to the times, with nice performances + fun reminders of college-age self-discovery. Despite storytelling + character problems, I'm curious to see how this semester series turns out.

Team: Desiree Akhavan (director), Josh Bachove (ep), Matt Dines (ep), Sam French (ep), Ali Goodwin (ep), Jonah Hill (ep), Mitra Jouhari (writer), Scott King (ep, writer), Daniel Gray Longino (director, ep), Alli Reich (ep), Benito Skinner (creator, ep, writer), Charli XCX (ep)

Series Regulars: Benito Skinner as Benny, Wally Baram as Carmen, Mary Beth Barone as Grace, Adam DiMarco as Peter, Rish Shah as Miles

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): A24, Amazon MGM Studios, Benny Drama, Strong Baby Productions, The Ladies Auxiliary

[fourthofgoodbye]

Sherlock + Daughter (The CW)

Sherlock + Daughter (The CW)

Drama

Logline: Sherlock Holmes becomes embroiled in a malevolent conspiracy involving his archenemy Professor Moriarty, and ends up joining forces with Amelia Rojas, a young Native American woman whose mother was recently murdered. As they work together to crack the case, Amelia also sets out to prove that the great detective is her long-lost father.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ***

As intellectual property (IP) projects continue to be greenlighted in droves, TV series are continuing to search for new takes on classic pieces with built-in fanbases. The CW's newest drama is a curiosity in the network's revamped slate of series as an adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's intrepid hero with new layers.

Sherlock + Daughter is a late 19th century London-set detective family drama that expands Holmes' family while maintaining elements of what made the character so beloved. There are classic Sherlockian moments: the breadth of his observational gifts, the encyclopedic knowledge that augments his deductions, and his not-infrequent disdain for social niceties. Expanding Sherlock family is not wholly new to Doyle lore (see Netflix's Enola Holmes film franchise), but the way Sherlock is both gatekept from his usual detective work by a shadowy organization and training a new protégé not only allows different shades from a longstanding character but also a refreshing dynamic to appear. Of course, a celebrity of Holmes' stature refuses to consider his parentage of the new, capable young woman who sought him out. Though Sherlock's skepticism of paternity is not without merit, he does take an interest in the rising prodigy who at least is her own fierce intellect and a quick study on his methods. Though she can't soft-boil an egg to his standards to save her life. And the series is quite willing to cover grisly bodily harm, whether that be a tear-streaked woman confined to a coffin for transport all the way up to an unaliving in front of Holmes. The training of Sherlock's new charge/possible daughter offers a somewhat-softened side of the great detective, one that maintains his sometimes-frustrating idiosyncrasies but also allows him to show degrees of empathy + protectiveness. The serialized nature of the series also helps to separate it from the other similar kinds of dramas that are mostly focused on neatly wrapping cases up with bows by the time the end credits roll. The tendrils of the Red Thread international crime syndicate that is blackmailing Holmes by holding his missing loved ones Mrs. Hudson + Dr. Watson over his head makes for an interesting ongoing storyline. Though the series isn't explicitly about income disparities, the wealth certainly account for a high percentage of the series' ne'er-do-welling. A rich ambassador's daughter makes condescending classist remarks while admitting that she orchestrated part of a crime. A wealthy man tries to maintain his tory life while dealing with crippling gambling debt that pushes him to criminal activity. Sherlock is well-to-do enough that he hired a replacement for Mrs. Hudson and be wasteful of inexact eggs, perhaps more of a high crime in the modern era.

David Thewlis + Blu Hunt are wonderful leads as Sherlock Holmes + Amelia Rojas, providing excellent foils for each other. Thewlis channels his distinctive voice into the disdain-dripping British Holmes who does not want to suffer any fools in his pursuit of his good friends, while Rojas infuses Amelia with a sort of American chutzpah that she uses to ward off predatory buys up to standing up to Holmes' sometimes odd or too-restrictive requests of her as his assistant. Mary O'Driscoll + Ardal O'Hanlon play the married Halligans, Sherlock's staff, with O'Driscoll often upset or even offended by Sherlock's actions (even though he doesn't get fully naked, he takes off some of his clothes in the hallway and she has a conniption) and O'Hanlon trying to keep the peace. Dougray Scott is excellent as Sherlock's frenemy Moriarty, more than capable of parrying with Thewlis' Holmes, like watching two chessmasters stalemate each other. Also lovely is Fiona Glascott's Lady Violet, a rich acquaintance of Sherlock's with a cutting manner that he seems to at least respect, especially when she drops some truth bombs. I'd also love to see more Savonna Spracklin as Amelia's mother Lucia (fka Little Dove), who feels like an essential part of Amelia's character and seeing the restrained emotional reaction from Sherlock (who is often characterized in the books as more asexual) to hearing more about her should hopefully bring more of her into the mix. Ivana Milčević, Gia Hunter, Antonio Aakeel, Philip P. Keene, and Joe Klocek also put in good appearances.

The fourth episode ("For Kith + Kin," ***) placed Amelia in a difficult situation when she's threatened by a lead, while Sherlock's own separate investigation leads to a deadly consequence, Amelia's chance encounter ties into a Sherlock mission, and a visit from Violet helps Sherlock confront his past + future. The pilot ("The Challenge," ***) set everything up nicely, with good character moments, some investigative steps, and a creepy cliffhanger. The second episode ("The Common Thread," ***) had Sherlock dispatch Amelia as a proxy investigator at Clara's crime scene, while Amelia's detective work leads to a surprising conclusion, Sherlock's own mission pans out nicely, Amelia + Sherlock solve Clara's case after a twist, and Sherlock reveals more of his past as Amelia is taken away. The third episode ("Partners In Crime," ****), my fave, split Sherlock + Amelia on their own solo missions: Amelia working the Somerset case as an intrepid insurance investigator raises the stakes and Holmes visits his frenemy Moriarty as they come to a mutual understanding before another death shakes things up, and Amelia is tracked by an unknown person.

With much of the Sherlockian lore missing (especially Watson + Mrs. Hudson), the series may face an uphill battle for diehard Holmesian fans who expect some hallmarks to be present. It is a curious choice not to show them in flashbacks or an update on their actual status because they are such well-known characters. Despite a nice performance from Hunt, Amelia feels a little adrift as a character. Beyond her character's early big wish to get to England to find her potential father, she doesn't get as much emotional or storytelling breadth as Sherlock. She feels more like a trusty sidekick whose main function in the series is to be a capable, oft-key piece of the crimesolving puzzle. However, in the fourth episode, when she experiences a traumatic experience with a lead, she wasn't given much to work from there as Sherlock barely comforts her then asks her to temporarily stay at the site of the trauma. The Red Thread organization feels less like the sinister string-pulling global crime conglomerate it is made out to be, and the reveal of it feels like it came to early to really drag up the menace. Just like in many horror films, once the nature of the seemingly unexplainable creepy things is revealed, much of the wind in the scary sails may be reduced. Similarly here, the suspense of the organization's reveal as being an even bigger menace simultaneously increases the overall risk but significantly decreases the suspense. Some of my more tepid feelings towards the Red Thread are heightened because of Scott's wonderfully-cheeky Moriarty. Holmes has always excelled when he's paired against an opponent, especially a worthy antagonist like his archnemesis. The cases du jour don't feel particularly intricate but the attempts to give them nuance or to surprise don't feel unnecessarily complex like other crimesolving procedurals sometimes fall into as they chase commercial break-driven twists or formulas. Though I personally like the chyrons of Sherlocks' step-by-step instructions to Amelia, I can also acknowledge that they feel unnecessary, a handholding crutch that will help second-screen-focused audiences keep track. I would argue that the vast majority of the case work does not necessitate the chyrons. However, other than the one time where some of the words were erased to indicate Amelia making a different choice than what Sherlock instructed, they don't feel additive enough. This is similar to how shows use voiceover without revealing anything new or compelling when it happens. The animated transitional pop-up maps are neat if not particularly interesting or necessarily helpful to the story. Only one of the series regulars is POC, disappointing in 2025.

Sherlock + Daughter is a historical British family detective drama that features unique explorations of a well-established character, with nice performances + intriguing storytelling that isn't completely predicated on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's oeuvre. Even with storytelling + character problems, checking out at least these initial episodes should be elementary, my dear reader (this paraphrased saying actually does not originate from Doyle!).

Team: Dominic Barlow (ep), Patricia Brown (ep), Jean-François Doray (ep), James Duff (ep), Ivan Dunleavy (ep), Michael Emerson (ep), Brendan Foley (creator, ep, writer), Steven Fullagar (ep), Peter Gerwe (ep), Shelly Goldstein (writer), Michael Grade (ep), Diane Hendricks (ep), Bryn Higgins (director), Blair Krempel (ep), Karine Martin (ep), Chris Philip (ep), Charlotte Reid (ep), Mike Sears (ep), Mark Wood (ep), Danny Zamost (ep)

Series Regulars: David Thewlis as Sherlock Holmes, Blu Hunt as Amelia Rojas, Ardal O'Hanlon as Halligan

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Krempelwood, MBM3 Films, Starlings Television Distribution, StoryFirst, Walking Entropy

[fourthofgoodbye]

FOREVER (Netflix)

FOREVER (Netflix)

Drama

Logline: Reunited as teens, two childhood friends fall deeply in love, experiencing the joy + heartache of a first romance that will change their lives forever.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

Book bans are a transparently-abhorrent attempt to keep kids in the dark about anything that doesn't conform to particular worldviews, especially ones that attempt to limit whose stories are told (and, to a lesser but still significant extent, by who). Netflix's newest drama is an inspired reinterpretation of Judy Blume's (here, an executive producer) 1975 book Forever..., which was just banned in Texas in 2024.

FOREVER is a Los Angeles-set teen Black love drama that offers excellent representation, heartfelt storytelling, and a blueprint for how beloved (at least to some) properties can be reinterpreted for modern audiences. The series offers a different kind of "realism" than HBO's graphic, bleak Euphoria and a more grounded lens than the aww-shucks innocence of Netflix's Heartstopper. Much like the book, the series does not shy away from honestly addressing teenage sexuality with hormonal lust mixed with the first blush of (puppy) love. Nerves around sexual inexperience, male grooming, and, pulled from the book, a "Ralph" nickname for a certain male body part. There's a tenderness, a vulnerability, and even a refreshing lack of finger-wagging about the sex (of which there isn't actually all that much), including a father trying to teach his son to put on a condom over a cucumber in the dark. Sex means something. Whether it be an awkward first sexual encounter (love that it was neither a brag-worthy success nor an intrusive humiliation) to a powerful scene where the female lead tells an ex that the impacts aren't only gender-coded but racially-coded too (both have it bad but she has it by far worse). However, it's not just all id-driven sex, there's a potent balance of emotional intensity. Teen romance is often dismissed as juvenile fantasies that adults often view with rose-colored glasses. However, thanks to the series' care in interpreting Blume's book blueprint, the relationship at the heart of the series is one worth rooting for. Down to the smallest of moments like a furtive glance from the bleachers or confusing text ellipses, the characters' far-from-smooth interactions feel more loving than judgmental. The courtship is treated without the lascivious graphicness nor the warp speed of its peers. Whether it be the joys of the joyous rush of those early butterflies to a tear-streaked break-up text, the displays of emotion aren't just beautifully executed with modern sensibilities, but a powerful statement that allows Black joy + vulnerability to exist outside of the context of external anti-Blackness. Seeing two Black families provides representation that feels respectful (I particularly love one mother's mix of empathy + encouragement) but still allowing them to be redeemably imperfect. The parents are neither demonized as out of touch nor portrayed as moral paragons to contrast with their children. Instead, the parents are presented as capable of sometimes not hitting the nail on the head but being fiercely loving all the same. The ecstatic joy of Black parents when they find out their son is dating a Black young woman and a Black father sharing a funny sex ed moment with his son feel eminently significant. There are also more generalized experiences that kids of all races may relate to: debilitating ADHD (and also a reluctance to accept accommodations for it), wealth disparities, and parents who either helicopter and/or place a lot of pressure on their children to elevate beyond their circumstances. The sometimes-crushing weight of future expectations is certainly not lost on the protagonists even during their quest to explore their feelings + bodies. The series is also aesthetically-pleasing, with sun-drenched shots of a variety of Los Angeles neighborhoods, fashion without being an overt spectacle, and an eye for a coolhunting music (Anderson .Paak, Tierra Whack, Victoria Monét, H.E.R., Summer Walker, SZA, and Tyler, The Creator). Smartphones are also maximized to represent a more contemporary-leaning version of teen angst: an embarrassing sex tape, blocking a phone contact to punctuate a break-up, and the abundance of texts that are typed out then deleted before being sent (props to the actors for doing so much acting with just a phone). The 2018 setting also puts it ahead of world-shifting events like George Floyd's extrajudicial murder + the COVID-19 pandemic that could be fleshed out in future seasons. All six of the series regulars are Black, still too rare in 2025.

Lovie Simone + Michael Cooper Jr. are great leads as Keisha + Justin, operating nicely solo but even better together, with Simone imbuing Keisha with a magnetism even when her story goes a bit darker and Cooper Jr. ably channeling the frustrations + joys of their complex entanglement. They have a believable, warm-fuzzy chemistry upon which the series functions that is heartwarming and to an extent, revolutionary as many of these teen series still fail to have complex Black leads in love. Karen Pittman + Wood Harris are also stellar as Justin's parents Dawn + Eric, with Pittman infusing a lot of complexity into Dawn who has Justin's best interests at heart even if her approach isn't always 100% correct and Harris providing a loving parenting style that is so heartening to see. Xosha Roquemore also gives Keisha's mother Shelly depth, struggling to provide her daughter opportunities she did not receive even when it creates complex, compelling feelings in both parent + child, which Roquemore is able to handle with charisma. Marvin Lawrence Winans III's younger brother Jaden hasn't gotten much to do yet minus one tense scene with Justin. Niles Fitch, Ali Gallo, and Xavier Mills as Keisha's rival basketball star ex Christian, who plays a great foil for both Keisha + Justin.

The fourth episode ("Run It Back," *****), my fave, let Keisha + Justin have a honeymoon phase and an awkward but realistic first sex scene, while Dawn tries to watch out for Justin, Keisha makes a heartbreaking choice to help Shelly, and Justin protects his heart. The pilot ("Reunion," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character moments, nice story kickoffs, and a good romantic cliffhanger. The second episode ("Ghosted," ****) tested Keisha's patience after Justin doesn't reply but her own trauma rears its ugly head, while Justin deals with school issues, Shelly tries to encourage Keisha, and Dawn's happiness that Justin is interested in Keisha is tempered when Christian reappears. The third episode ("Fourth Quarter," ****) pushed Keisha not only to deal with Christian's antics but also to try to win back Justin after misunderstandings cloud their relationship, while Justin gets some difficult news about his college prospects, Dawn unintentionally motivated Justin the way Eric did in the past, and Keisha + Justin come to an understanding after she reassures him of her feelings.

As with much of these kinds of series based around the ebbs + flows of romance, the cycles of falling in + out of dating may also feel too predictable and/or repetitive (though Simone + Cooper Jr. are charming throughout). Even the fourth episode's lovey dovey phase still felt headed for a cliffhanger-chasing ending. There are also far too many times where even these late teens dance around their relationship status to the point where clearing up a simple misunderstanding is extended over the course of an episode (or in a couple cases, over more than one episode). For example, Keisha not clarifying what her relationship status with Christian is/was takes entirely too long, especially when the audience gets ahead of it when her side is more clearly explained in the third episode. The delay of Keisha telling Shelly about the sex tape incident is starting to push credulity. Despite being billed as a series regular, Jaden's characterization is lacking compared to the other characters, even Christian.

FOREVER is a LA-set teen Black love drama that showcases a meaningful, loving reinterpretation of a beloved Judy Blume novel brought through new lenses, with great performances, robust representation, and awesome aesthetics. Despite storytelling + character bumps, I will be thinking about this one forever.

Team: Mara Brock Akil (creator, ep, writer), Thembi Banks (director), Judy Blume (ep), Susie Fitzgerald (ep), Erika Harrison (ep, writer), Anthony Hemingway (director, ep), Jerron Horton (writer), Regina King (director, ep), Reina King (ep), Kimberly Ndombe (writer), Shana C. Waterman (ep), Sara E. White (ep)

Series Regulars: Lovie Simone as Keisha Clark, Michael Cooper Jr. as Justin Edwards, Xosha Roquemore as Shelly Clark, Marvin Lawrence Winans III as Jaden Edwards, Wood Harris as Eric Edwards, Karen Pittman as Dawn Edwards

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Royal Ties Productions, Story 27

[fourthofgoodbye]

Étoile (Amazon)

Étoile (Amazon)

Comedy

Logline: In an ambitious gambit to save their storied institutions, two world-renowned ballet companies in New York City + Paris swap their most talented stars.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

The arts are under fire from a variety of sources: the TikTok effect on audience habits + likes, artificial intelligence, and, yes, conservative government forces that fail to see the value in funding the arts or encouraging their diversity, equity, and inclusion. Amazon's newest comedrama features one of art's perhaps-more endangered species: ballet.

Étoile ("star" or "principal dancer" in French ballet parlance) is a bilingual (French + English) ballet comedrama about a trans-Atlantic professional talent swap that promises to boost the Parisian + NYC companies. Befitting its creators (Amy Sherman-Palladino + Daniel Palladino of The Gilmore Girls, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and perhaps most relevant, Bunheads), the series is a buoyant, whimsy-laden watch that paints with comedic strokes + beautiful cinematography. Several forms of comedy are offered. Pointed bon mots, especially during extended pingpong back + forths, hit nicely like a sister yelling at her sibling: "Are you leaving? Dramatically in a huff? Like in a movie starring Timothée Chalamet?" or a boss threatening an insubordinate dancer with "I will castrate you. Or have you castrated. You're in better shape than me, so probably the latter." There are also extended cringey attempts to spin mistakes, like a woman mistaking one of her minister's wife being alive when she isn't or when she must continue to provide press conference cover for a deadly accident with texted updates where she adjusts her increasingly-distasteful spin on the spot. There's also plenty of physical comedy: male dancers recoiling at their new lead female ballerina, a character desperately trying to open windows to ventilate a room after another enters reeking of fish, and a woman slipping while trying to ride a skateboard. A character has an entire conversation with a man's groin, while a choreographer cuts an assembled group of dancers by just telling them variations of "no." A billionaire has a room full of prosthetic-enhanced lookalikes in case of attack. A police officer taking a selfie with a famous ballerina when he arrests her. It's either satire or just a window into an elitist sector with concerns about whether champagne flutes are etched, a rich tour guide tells his group not to look at the sconces lest they have nightmares, or an extended but patter-filled discussion about how tricky having a live bull on stage will be, especially when the principal dancer's costume is red ("The curtain goes up in four hours." / "Not if it's red."). Cultural differences like no decent espresso in New York City or the French's lack of American products (timely) also appear. There's even a jab at Emily In Paris (probably not as much of an influence here) and compliments to Fame (a more likely influence). An environmentalist bent is also presented, with one of the leads an eco-warrior who greatly respects the series' Greta Thunberg send-up, along with more moments like a woman "complimenting" a smoker for helping to solve overpopulation or reminding someone who calls themselves "Teflon" that it's bad for the environment. There is also a powerful speech delivered on the opening night main stage about a billionaire donor's massive oil leak that will likely ruffle feathers on + off the series. Dramatic storytelling is also worked in. Most compellingly, a Parisian dancer who was rejected by her home company who found happiness dancing in New York is unceremoniously returned home in the swap to both unwanted visibility + invisibility as a culture minister's daughter. There's also a cleaning lady's prodigal daughter who trains at the studio under the cover of night with training videos her mother inappropriately, covertly recorded for her to learn from. Where the series really lights up is with the dancing. Each episode's end credits are often filled with more actual rehearsals than in the episode's themselves. However, the standout fourth episode showcased the staged performances in their emotive, strapping glory, the best sales pitch for what some feel is an unexciting art form plagued by snobbery + older world traditions. The performances really made me want to go see a ballet in real life, though I would likely be in the nosebleeds and far from the deft camera angles platforming the gorgeous athleticism the dancers exude that Sherman-Palladino expertly brings to life.

Luke Kirby, a Sherman-Palladino Emmy winner, is a very good lead as Jack, the curmudgeonly Metropolitan Ballet Theater (MBT) executive director who loves ballet (and the Fish Theater that bears his family name + legacy) but is constantly bogged down by its lack of zeitgeisty popularity to the point of elitist exasperation that Kirby is able to bring his charisma + nice timing too (especially his opening night speech). Charlotte Gainsbourg also excels as Jack's French counterpart + sometimes-lover Geneviève, a woman also with the gargantuan task of keeping many professional plates spinning while dealing with her own family troubles. In her English TV début, Lou de Laâge's étoile-turned-eco-warrior Cheyenne, Jack's crowning achievement in the swap, not only flings acerbic comments towards environmental abusers + inferior ballet dancers alike but her word vomiting is matched by her (and her dance double Constance Devernay's) exquisite dancing. David Alvarez (still one of the youngest Best Musical Actor Tony Award winners) plays Gael, the lone partner Cheyenne is willing to dance with but who is currently on a dancing sabbatical to work with bell peppers until she convinces him to rejoin the company. Gideon Glick's eccentric genius Tobias is given to flights of annoyance when things aren't just so (his inability to procure Crest toothpaste in Paris) but who choreographs the series' most showstopping number, plus he gets a budding connection (likely eventually bridging to lovers) with Ivan du Pontavice's French dancer Gabin (and his dance double Arcadian Broad), whose imperious ambition does not seem to bother his new choreographer. Taïs Vinolo's Mishi gets the most compelling storyline as a nepo baby cherished by her minister mother when it suits her PR needs but vastly more suited to her New York life away from being otherwise invisible, and who gets a nice assist from Geneviève. David Haig's MBT artistic director Nicholas gets broad comedic moments mostly relating to his opinions about the need for drugs in ballet and some physical comedy around him motoring on a Rascal. LaMay Zhang's young dancer Susu is taken under Cheyenne's wing thanks to her advocacy for her talents. Simon Callow's rich Brit Crispin comes in as an angel investor despite pretty much no one really liking him for his devilish ways including potentially funding wars + his environmentally-unsound problems, but Callow plays him with a campy cunning that at least makes him like a mustache-twirling villain of old. In addition to Sherman-Palladino stalwarts Kelly Bishop, Yanic Truesdale, and Dakin Matthews, Isabelle Candelier, Céline Menville, Leslie Fray, Teal Wicks, Tiler Peck, Yannig Samot, Omar Makati, and Robbie Fairchild also put in good appearances.

The fourth episode ("The Hiccup," *****), my fave, not only pushed many storylines along nicely but featured a lot more actual ballet dancing, while Cheyenne not only helps Susu but also Tobias' number when an accident occurs leading to a couple major performances including with her next sex partner Gael, Geneviève has foot-in-mouth syndrome after she tries to provide Crispin increasingly-embarrassing cover, Gabin gets charged up about Tobias, and Crispin makes a business threat to Jack over Cheyenne's big speech. The pilot ("The Swap," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character moments, pingpong dialogue in English + French, and a good mix of silly + heartfelt moments, especially last two scenes. The second episode ("The Bull," ****) challenged both sides to acclimate to the swap, especially Cheyenne as she tries to woo Gael back to dance with her, while Geneviève tries to assuage French ministers about the swap, Jack tries to convince Cheyenne to help him, Tobias has trouble acclimating to Paris until he meets Gabin, Mishi has a rough homecoming to Paris, and Susu receives a gift. The third episode ("The Fish," ****) challenged Jack to protect his family's legacy when Crispin makes a big move, while Geneviève deals with her company's unexpected popularity + her own messy family life, Tobias makes some big choices to Gabin's excitement, Cheyenne successfully brings Gael back into the company against Jack's wishes, Mishi gets a big welcome home but she has very mixed feelings about her place in her old company + France, and Cheyenne advocates for Susu.

The Sherman-Palladinos are frequently known for their rapidfire dialogue, which can not only be understandably a bit overwhelming for casual viewers but points to one of the series' biggest issues: an overabundance of telling instead of showing. Though the focus is split between the dancers + administrators, only snippets of the physical + emotional toll are shown but characters talk about it quite frequently. Some may also find the main characters aren't as likable as they could be. Cheyenne can be too abrasive and Jack can be too highbrow. Former lovers Geneviève + Jack do generate a spark but not enough about their past has been revealed to be compelling. Cheyenne + Gael fail to generate as much of a spark (despite a tryst on Jack's couch where they both come in to find missing items in a bit too far of a stretch of reality), but Alvarez isn't given enough screentime or development for Gael to really do much more than smolder while rehearsing. Susu's story feels a bit odd since she feels more disconnected from the swap because of her young age, though it is nice to see Cheyenne get more emotional range than scowling + scolding between dancing. Despite a game performance from Callow + exacting social commentary about oligarchy, Crispin can feel a little one-dimensional as an evil billionaire. The series also unintentionally makes the point that despite the series' focus on the art form's loss of interest from the public, there are other issues that draw people's focus like an oil tanker leaking toxic sludge into the ocean. The fourth episode felt like it could actually be a beautiful ending to a film about trying to save the MBT's season rather than the halfway point of the first season. Though there are definitely threads to wrap up, it feels less urgent. The Paris/New York split isn't quite as balanced as it could be, especially because of de Laâge's outsized scenes against Mishi + Tobias' comparatively quieter stories.

Étoile, pre-packaged with a second season, is a trans-Atlantic culture-swap ballet comedrama with nice performances, plenty of comedic elements mixed with more heartfelt drama, and some potent messaging. Despite storytelling + character issues, this series shoots for the moon and lands amongst the étoiles.

Team: Daniel Palladino (creator, director, ep, writer), Dhana Rivera Gilbert (ep), Amy Sherman-Palladino (creator, director, ep, writer)

Series Regulars: Luke Kirby as Jack McMillan, Charlotte Gainsbourg as Geneviève Lavigne, Lou de Laâge as Cheyenne Toussaint, Gideon Glick as Tobias Bell, David Alvarez as Gael Rodriguez, Ivan du Pontavice as Gabin Roux, Taïs Vinolo as Mishi Duplessis, David Haig as Nicholas Leutwylek, LaMay Zhang as Susu Li, Simon Callow as Crispin Shamblee

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Amazon MGM Studios, Big Indie Pictures, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions

[fourthofgoodbye]

#1 Happy Family USA (Amazon)

#1 Happy Family USA (Amazon)

Comedy

Logline: A Muslim-American family must learn how to code-switch as they navigate the early 2000s: a time of fear, war, and the rapid expansion of the boy-band industrial complex.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

When the right combination of disparate things come together, it can be absolutely magical: chocolate + peanut butter, Martha Stewart + Snoop Dogg, and Avengers: Endgame. Amazon's newest comedy also features a new magical combo with its co-creators: South Park's Pam Brady + Ramy Youssef, whose work on the standout first season "Strawberries" episode of Hulu's Ramy feels almost like a backdoor pilot for this series.

#1 Happy Family USA is a 2001 New Jersey-set adult animated Egyptian family comedy that offers a different, sillier but incisive perspective on the effects of 9/11. The series does highlight mass paranoia, government surveillance overreach, and the racism + xenophobia inherent in both. However, the series does pair those very serious issues with comedy to help contextualize, publicize, and satirize. For example, an episode is devoted to codeswitching 101, something even certain Congresspeople don't understand. Taking advantage of the animation, the series has characters completely change their appearance to suit the moment. However, it's not just visual, a woman changes her Arabic name to the more Western-friendly "Sharon." As the family reels from targeting from 9/11, the patriarch commands his family assimilate to be more American with gaudily unnecessary + transparently-overcompensating American flag + country-western décor. These actions point to the "melting pot," the moldy metaphor previously used to talk about America's diversity that indicates an unpalatable stripping away of each person's uniqueness to form a singular homogenous entity. It was thankfully supplanted by the "salad bowl," which better illustrates how every ingredient uniquely contributes to making the salad, ahem, great. The characters fall more into the melting point category, with the understandable if very sad decision to strip away their culture to not attract undue attention. Of course, as a comedy, the series pokes fun at this, with the father allowing shoes to be worn in the house or when he shaves his significant beard that grows back fully within minutes like the Greek Hydra. An older female family member refuses to remove her niqāb inside, admitting she might've eventually relented, but because a man commanded her to remove it, she refuses. Characters are given the opportunity to break way from stereotype traps, but still accidentally fall into them like when a cart is unintentionally exploded at a memorial or an attempt to enhance a house party with drugs leads to an unfortunate anthrax leak. It's not just specifics of this Egyptian Muslim family though. A mother has a true crime obsession, a sister struggles to come out to her family, and a son is racked with Millennial teen fears like illegally downloading music for mix CDs or IM conversations. The animation style, sometimes chaotic and pleasantly not always perfectly rendered, feels unique, not the typical Titmouse or anime styles. There are blink-and-you'll-miss sight gags like the rotating introductory fake MPAA notices. Each episode is rated "H for Haram," preempting apologies for not representing everyone to the best/fullest. Alongside "Arabs" + "Muslims," apologies also go to "white girls named Courtney." There's a suicidal talking lamb, a certain conservative network, and musical interludes. The surprising musicality appears not just in the cheeky theme song (where the son is used as a human shield from law enforcement) but also in alternative, hiphop, and pop-inflected numbers with surreal sequences, with "Spies In The Mosque" + a parody of Eminem's "Stan" both personal highlights. Six of the eight series regulars are POC, including actors of Egyptian, Palestinian, Iraqi, Indian, and Black descent. The series often features welcome dialogue in Arabic, which separates it from other series. Two non-heterosexual characters are actually voiced by bisexual actresses. One character declares another should come out on a specific date based on the ages they were when they realized they were gay, and of course those ages are 9 + 11.

Ramy Youssef is a wonderful lead as both Rumi + his father Hussein Hussein (yes, his name is Hussein Hussein), with the Halal cart-owning patriarch employing a harsher, louder tone as he swings wildly to protect his family, while the young son is more interested in fitting into his harsh school life with inappropriate crushes + popularity contests. Rumi's school friends - Chris Redd's Marcus, Akaash Singh's Dev, and Whitmer Thomas' Garrett - aren't as significant presences but make the most of their limited time, with Marcus helping Rumi understand codeswitching, Dev seizing the finger-pointing at Rumi to become the "less weird brown kid," and Garrett possibly becoming addicted to huffing gasoline to help Rumi get out of a sticky school situation. Salma Hindy's matriarch Sharia does the opposite of Hussein after 9/11, embracing her faith after she feels guilty about the death of her father (Azhar Usman, recurring as a ghost, and tossing off lines about yelling instead of hitting his wife) while balancing her obsession with figuring out Princess Diana's death. Alia Shawkat's daughter Mona ironically often plays the straight woman to the surrounding chaos, usually just accepting that she is different from her family in not just her hidden sexuality (Meg Stalter plays her supportive girlfriend Gina). Randa Jarrar's Grandma gets some standout moments as she asserts her independence now that her husband passed away in the pilot, always bringing her TV with her in a silly sight gag. Mandy Moore's Mrs. Malcolm, initially trying to be respectful to a fault switches to a more militant "see something, say something" attitude that in theory should be offputting to Rumi's foolhardy crush on her (spoiler: it isn't). Timothy Olyphant continues to bring unhinged charm to the Husseins' new neighbor, FBI agent Dan Daniels, whose priorities range from helping identify terrorists to keeping his alcohol intake in check from his fresh divorce to becoming a sort of improper mentor to Rumi. Writer Sabrina Jalees, Amy Landecker, Paul Elia, and Kieran Culkin also make good appearances.

The fourth episode ("EGYPT IS ON THE PHONE!," ****) challenged Rumi to both keep Dan away from courting Mrs. Malcolm and bring drugs to a party that could land him cool points leading to a visit with Hussein to the FBI office, while Sharia + Mona track down the vendor who sold them a used phone card so they can call Egypt leading to Sharia learning about white women tears, and Rumi's actions cause an actual incident. The pilot ("NINE TEN," ****) set everything up nicely, with nice character intros, a razor sharp sense of humor, and a fun outro that sets the series up. The second episode ("#1 VIGIL MOURNERS!," ****) forced Rumi to learn about code switching after an invasive school show + tell that he tries out at a vigil by Garrett, while Hussein continues to try to make his family more American, Sharia makes some personal appearance decisions, Mona finds a new delay tactic in coming out, and a new addition to the neighborhood could spell trouble. The third episode ("WE ARE NOTHING!," ****), my fave, added more anxiety to Rumi after a mixed CD he made for Mrs. Malcolm with pirated music makes him want to take drastic steps, while Hussein gets closer to Dan, Sharia's visit to a mosque leads to a friendship with Carol, and Garrett steps up for Rumi.

This series could be a triggering watch for a number of reasons, but particularly because of the current administration's transparently-xenophobic, blatantly-unconstitutional attempts to deport anyone who does not conform to a certain racial standard, the spirit of which is certainly present here. There are definitely a lot of pluses to set the series in 2001, but this time capsule speaks to a critique I often have of series with non-white protagonists: it can place them in a time period that may not necessarily reflect more contemporary members of represented groups. It can cynically be viewed an attempt to strand characters in a less hospitable or accepting past that plays up outdated or at least challenged stereotypes that some assume means things like racism or xenophobia doesn't exist today since 2001 is nearly a quarter century ago (Millie Bobby Brown only turned 21 this year, for comparison). This was an issue I had with ABC's Fresh Off The Boat. So far, this series hasn't fallen completely into those confines but the potential is there. Though I'm guessing a meta part of the creative process is to position the characters as human just like their non-Egyptian/-Muslim counterparts, I found that some of the broader storylines like Rumi's crush on Mrs. Malcolm or Mona staying in the closet could benefit from being a bit more specific in if there is a cultural component to boost them. Some of my favorite moments came from cultural misunderstandings because they highlight humanizing differences I am either not personally familiar with or that aren't as commonly shown in Western media. Mona's story, of which there isn't as much as other characters (just like Sharia), does revolve around her coming out to her Muslim family, which is not the more common American LGBTQ+ storylines, but it is still a closet story. There is still time for them to buck stereotypes, especially those that befall Muslim communities' stereotypical anti-LGBTQ+ness like if Sharia + Hussein not only already suspected or knew but are fine with it or even more supportive because it's not something Egyptian or Muslim families may typically support but some Americans do. I also felt like Rumi's desire to woo Mrs. Malcolm being specifically inspired by Vili Fualaau + Mary Kay Letourneau is problematic, especially as his efforts to seduce her in real life (as opposed to the legal safety of his fantasies) escalate.

#1 Happy Family USA, pre-packaged with a second season (not uncommon for animation's lengthy production processes), is an early-Aughts, New Jersey-set adult animated comedy about an Egyptian Muslim family's difficulties adjusting to their new normal, with fun voice acting, important social commentary, and incisive + broad humor. Despite thematic + character bumps, this series makes me happy to be an American.

Team: Hannah Ayoubi (director), Pam Brady (creator, ep, writer), Andy Campagna (ep), Mona Chalabi (ep), Sabrina Jalees (writer), Griffith Kimmins (director), Maaike Maliwanag Scherff (director), Theresa Mulligan Rosenthal (writer), Ravi Nandan (ep), Josh Rabinowitz (ep, writer), Alli Reich (ep), Hallie Sekoff (ep), Ramy Youssef (creator, ep, writer)

Series Regulars: Ramy Youssef as Rumi Hussein / Hussein Hussein, Mandy Moore as Mrs. Malcolm, Chris Redd as Marcus, Alia Shawkat as Mona Hussein, Akaash Singh as Dev, Whitmer Thomas as Garrett, Salma Hindy as Sharia Hussein, Randa Jarrar as Grandma

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): A24, Amazon MGM Studios, Cairo Cowboy, Wounded Poodle

[fourthofgoodbye]

Government Cheese (Apple TV+)

Government Cheese (Apple TV+)

Drama

Logline: A newly released ex-convict striving to leave his criminal history behind and reunite with his family. Amidst this struggle, he grapples with frequent inexplicable moments of divine intervention.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ***

Government cheese isn't just the processed, oft-suspect dairy product that the US government provided to welfare, Food Stamp, and Social Security elder recipients since World War II, but it became a pejorative, anti-Black cultural touchpoint that came to refer, quite negatively, to egregious government handouts to impoverished Black (and sometimes other POC) folks. Apple TV+'s newest dramedy takes that phrase to spotlight the creativity, resourcefulness, and innovation for a resource-limited family. Government Cheese is a 1960s California suburb-set Black American family dramedy about a father returning from prison to try to help support his family. The self-sharpening drill bit at the center of the series is a great example of ingenuity, a tool that saves time and, perhaps most importantly, money. However, the creator's social reentry is less than smooth, but wonderful for storytelling. He gets some traction on his invention but not an immediate cash windfall his struggling family needs. His wife + mother of his two children is stuck answering phones instead of using her real designer talents. One son is so into exploring Chumash traditions that he gets suspended for standing up to a teacher, the other turned down offers from Harvard + M.I.T. so he can become a pole vaulter despite not having done it before. The understandable tension the elder son has for his father's absence feels appropriately barbed, as does his oversized interest in the Chumash people of his area thanks to his father's cellmate. Oh, and the main reason the hero is out of prison despite a horrific accident inside was because of favors by a French-Canadian gangster brothers who are calling their debt in the form of $2,000 (about $17,000 in 2025). Reteaming with a childhood friend for a new criminal scheme to pay off a debt from an organized crime syndicate is again something not great for the characters but rich for storytelling as it forces him to confront his newfound faith. Finding religion in prison is not a new concept, but I did enjoy when the character choose "Yahweh" because he thinks the name sounds less formal. The Biblical references continue with a massive prison flood that starts a riot and references to the Book of Jonah. Jonah is a great choice to be shown on screen since some scholars believe the book is at least partially satirical, just like the series. Though I am by now means a Biblical expert of any level, Jonah's story speaks of a prophet who refuses to escape his God-given mission to foretell the destruction of the city of Nineveh, leading to being temporarily trapped the stomach of a mighty sea creature that is supposed to represent death + rebirth. The parallels to a man getting out of prison with the intention of reinventing himself is nice, if more hinted at than shown. The series' advertised surrealism is a nice selling point. The episodes often open with introductory interludes that take fantastical forms like an Indigenous female fighter who takes down a racist bar for mocking her prized eagle feather. The third episode's Elks Lodge detour with a spirit who initially only exists as a pair of white tights + Dorothy-esque bright red shoes, who has him shoot arrows at a bullseye to either answer or skip questions. As befitting co-creator Paul Hunter's legendary music video directing career, the aesthetics are gorgeous: the pastel color palettes, the styling of the houses + wardrobes, and the classic cars, plus the various engaging detours the series weaves into its narratives. All five series regulars are Black actors, a welcome showing in 2025 as more public efforts to suppress content by marginalized creators increase.

David Oyelowo, also an executive producer, is a wonderful lead as Hampton, able to bring his gravitas + charm to an entrepreneurial father who is trying to do right by his family but seems to keep making decisions that put him in difficult positions. Simone Missick is absolutely wonderful as Astoria, Hampton's wife who was less enthusiastic about his return (her darted glances during a family meeting were one of my favorite visuals of the episodes), not just because of the effects his absence has had on her + their sons' lives but because she has already started a new secret romance with Stephen Schneider's Ronald. Jahi Di'Allo Winston's elder son Harrison is all vinegar with Hampton, though his pursuit of an eagle feather as a sort of personal quest is endearing, showing a different side that I hope is explored even more since it ties into Hampton's ex-cellmate Rudy (a wonderful Adam Beach). Evan Ellison's Einstein is perhaps the most reliable source of comedy here as he combines his nerdiness with a sort of unflappable demeanor, confidently turning down Ivy League universities to embrace an amateur pole vaulting career with lofty ambitions or when he drafts his girlfriend Minnie (quite solid newbie Fiona Rose Dyer) to help build a backyard pool. Even though his screentime is limited, Bokeem Woodbine continues to breathe a lot of life in characters like Hampton's longtime friend Bootsy, a man who does recruit Hampton back into a life of crime by trying to use his drill to rob a synagogue, but also makes time to rue the fact that he bought relevant supplies to impress a woman into horticulture only to learn she wasn't faithful. Sunita Mani's enchanting spirit guide Edith, Louis Cancelmi's French-Canadian gangster Jean-Guy Prevost, and Jeremy Bobb's lying janitor Manny also put in good appearances.

The fourth episode ("A Long Road Home," ****), my fave, sent Hampton on a quest with Manny to figure out how to test his drill for his mission with Bootsy, while Astoria feels underappreciated at work despite her skills, Harrison goes on his own quest to find an eagle feather that leads him to a movie set, Minnie is introduced as she + Einstein try to help assemble a pool to help with his pole vault trip, and Hampton makes a decision that may come back to haunt him even as it brings him closer to Harrison. The pilot ("The Gospel of Kenny Sharp," ***) set everything up okay, with good character intros, surrealist touches, and a nice cliffhanger. The second episode ("Trial and Error," ***) challenged Hampton to raise money to support his family as he avoids the Prevost brothers with Bootsy and tries to secure his drill future, while Astoria tries to balance her past + current lives by withholding a big secret, Harrison gets in trouble at school, Einstein admits to a couple big secrets, and another solid cliffhanger. The third episode ("Two Doors," ***) sent Hampton on a strange side trip with Edith where he works through some of his pain, while Astoria + Ronald rue their inability to be together, flashbacks shows a happier Astoria + Hampton, and Hampton makes a big decision.

To paraphrase a biting Top Chef critique, this series' biggest issue is that it can feel more like a collection of delicious ingredients than one cohesive dish. Astoria's new romance, Harrison's love of the Chumash people, Einstein's pole-vaulting shenanigans, and Hampton's friendly conversations with Bootsy are lovely touches but have not added up to a more narrative-driven story. When the focus is on Hampton's drill + the Prevost brothers calling in their favor, he is automatically separated from his family because he is keeping parts of it secret and/or it does not directly involve them. That separation can work when the spinning plates add up to a more cohesive story, but it feels like things are visually satisfying + the character morsels are tasty but it's not a full meal. The third episode is a great example. It's a strong bottle episode with game performances by Oyelowo + Mani with surrealist moments, but it feels more like a distracting side trip than overly additive to the overall storytelling for the amount of time spent. Hampton only met her because he was trying to spy on Astoria but that seemed to take less precedence over talking to Edith for some reason. Though there were some funny moments, I would not personally call this a comedy with a capital "C" but more in line with #PlatinumTV comedies that often incorporate dramatic elements. I have also written many times about my love for half-hour dramas, but this actually feels like longer episodes might benefit the storytelling, letting arcs play out across more real estate could make some of the series stick better. Astoria's stalled movement at work, for example, might have benefitted from more scenes of her zhuzhing her own house's interior, commenting on or actively changing the design of other locations, and definitely more work interactions. The series' early focus on Hampton makes sense as he's the audience's entry into the story, but I wish more attention could be given to Astoria. Why she is hiding her relationship with Ronald and more about her career struggles are starting to breadcrumb but still don't feel like a full slice (yet alone a loaf) of a story arc just yet. Though Oyelowo brings much to the role, audiences may be divided on Hampton's path to recidivism, especially when his attempts to break free keep getting squashed or he's sucked back into a world he wants to leave behind. Despite being a series regular, Bootsy does not get enough screentime or character development to be fully-realized, though the consistently-excellent Woodbine does a lot with what Bootsy is given. The religious elements are also intriguing, but they haven't been linked to a greater commentary or a more direct tie between characters (Hampton as Jonah could be emphasized even more, for example), so the inclusion of these hints feel like they deserve a bit more follow-through. Government Cheese is a California Black American family period piece dramedy that tackles intriguing issues, with nice performances + delightful aesthetics. Despite storytelling + character bumps, I'm curious to see if this series can turn government cheese into a rich fondue.

Team: Ali Brown (ep), Colin Bucksey (director), Aeysha Carr (creator, ep, writer), Paul Hunter (creator, director, ep, writer), Jelani Johnson (ep), Charles D. King (ep), Hugh Moore (writer), David Oyelowo (ep)

Series Regulars: David Oyelowo as Hampton Chambers, Simone Missick as Astoria Chambers, Jahi Di'Allo Winston as Harrison Chambers, Evan Ellison as Einstein Chambers, Bokeem Woodbine as Bootsy

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Apple Studios, MACRO Television Studios, Street Carr Productions, Ventureland, Yoruba Saxon

[fourthofgoodbye]

North of North (Netflix)

North of North (Netflix)

Drama

Logline: A young Inuk woman wants to build a new future for herself after a spontaneous + extremely public exit from her marriage. It won't be easy in a small Arctic town where everybody knows your business.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

Authenticity is crucial in art, especially when the art has cultural roots, something that TV has been getting more + more right the more it leans into specific storytelling with universal appeal. Netflix's newest comedy, in collaboration with Canadian broadcasters APTN (Aboriginal Peoples Television Network) + CBC where it already aired earlier this year, boasts Inuit talent in front of + behind the camera, including co-creators Stacey Agloc MacDonald + Alethea Arnaquq-Baril. North of North is a breezy, enchanting Canadian small town hangout comedy about an Inuit community from their perspectives. Without becoming full-on Inuit edutainment, the series finds beautiful ways to explore rich cultural traditions (ocean goddess Nuliajuk makes an appearance) as well as hinting at the painful history of residential schools + colonization. To quote the series, the Inuit people aren't bygone communities but still vibrant today, and this huge platform demonstrates that the people within the series are just that: human; capable of love + mistakes; rich in cultural traditions but not immune from baser mortal concerns. It doesn't feel didactic or even overly-adjusted for non-Inuit viewers. Dropping the audience into the world avoids timewasting exposition dumps and allows curious members to look up details on the smart devices they're already looking at while consuming TV. There are welcome pokes at the Karen-ish white savior town manager who feels like a lot of self-congratulating liberals who want to pretend they are allies but actually don't help at best or harm at worst. Luckily, the series positions this character on a spectrum that allows her to be absolutely eyeroll-worthy (she thanks her Inuk assistant by saying "Namaste") but not necessarily kick-her-out-of-town level antics. I did laugh when an Inuk mother tells her daughter to be realistic about her options because she's "acting like a white girl with options." The series adapts classic character archetypes + sitcom setups for its new environs, even down to Inuktitut-language covers of Cyndi Lauper + Dua Lipa. Six of the eight series regulars are POC, including five people of Canadian Inuk and/or First Nations descent (Mikisew Cree + Xatsull, specifically), and one actor of Pasifikan descent. Many women will likely relate to the protagonist's desire to break out of her husband + child's shadow to be her own person. Some, like me, may cringe at the speed + viciousness of small town gossip like their blindness to their golden boy's flaws, including women who openly bring him sympathy casseroles after his public breakup. The latter is played for jokes, like when someone incorrectly calls her a "homewrecker" when it was her home that was wrecked. A truck flatbed slowly unfurling, an Inuk person justifying their tardiness because "time is a colonial construct," and kids asking a woman who approaches them on the playground if they're a drug dealer all made me laugh. Amongst the silliness are hints at more dramatic beats, like a father who didn't know he had an adult daughter who also has a daughter (and they have a troubling first reconnection before they know who the other is), or perhaps most moving for me, a scene after the untimely passing of a beloved elder where another elder unexpectedly praises a woman who is being blamed for his death for bringing happiness to the elder in his final moments. The elder takes a 50,000 foot view, asserting that their people have survived for millennia in some of the most inhospitable conditions by celebrating life's smaller joys. The complex relationships are one of the series' biggest strengths. A mother/daughter whose every conversation seems informed by their rougher past, a soon-to-be-ex-husband actually lets his himbo mask slip, hinting at more to his soon-to-be-ex-wife's desires to free herself of him. The series also features the majestic frozen landscapes of fictional Arctic town Ice Cove, actually shot in Iqaluit, the capital of Nunavut territory + the northernmost city in Canada.

Anna Lambe is a breakout lead as Siaja, a charming mix of determined grit, adorable bumbling, and a buoyant likability whether navigating an embarrassing public scandal, trying hard to convince kids to join her elders' night, or tending to her relationships. Kelly Williams gives problematic heartthrob as Siaja's husband Ting, presenting a nicer version of himself to the community but taking credit for Siaja's work with their daughter Bun (a sassy Keira Belle Cooper) and telling her how empty she will be without him, hinting at a level of emotional abuse. Maika Harper is excellent as Siaja's mother Neevee, whose past addiction still hangs over her + Siaja's relationship, but her no-BS attitude is used to excellent comedic effect (try enduring one of her withering stares) and for tender moments connecting with her daughter + granddaughter. Jay Ryan brings hunky nerd to environmental researcher Alistair, who not only didn't know about Siaja's existence (hence an awkward at best early encounter) but still definitely harbors feelings for Neevee, two relationships he navigates with an aww-shucks goofiness. Braeden Clarke's research assistant Kuuk not only gets to reconnect with his Inuk heritage more but may also be making moves on a recently-single Siaja. Zorga Qaunaq's Millie is a fun friend + co-worker, always ready with a quip. Same with Bailey Poching's radio host Colin, who is from even further Down South than everyone else judging by his Aotearoan accent. Mary Lynn Rasjskub's town manager Helen is good at delivering culturally-insensitive remarks but also with hints of actual affection for her adopted home. Nutaaq Doreen Simmonds, Tanya Tagaq, and Vinnie Karetek also put in good appearances.

The fourth episode ("Joy to the Effing World," ****) presented Siaja with the opportunity to run elders night in Helen's absence, while Neevee + Alistair keep running into each other, Kuuk helps Siaja make connections, a tragedy leads to a beautiful moment of connection for Siaja, and a cliffhanger promises to upend Siaja's world. The pilot ("Top of the World," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character intros, nice story kickoffs, and a juicy cliffhanger. The second episode ("No Freeloading," ****), my fave, pushed Siaja to get a job with Helen after her very public break up with Ting, while much of the town hates on Siaja and loves on Ting, Neevee confronts Alistair over his return, Siaja tries to recover some valuables from Ting's house for her + Bun only for Ting to get credited, Neevee makes a nice move, and Siaja accomplishes two goals. The third episode ("Dumpcano," ****) challenged Siaja at her new job with Helen when Alistair + Kuuk show up, while Siaja accidentally starts a dump fire that captivates the town, Neevee hangs out with Bun for the day after an incident at school, Alistair helps Siaja keep her job with Helen and they drop truth bombs on each other, and Bun gets a big prize.

Some of the comedic setups may feel a bit too well-trod, like a boss giving a prospective employee a seemingly-difficult task, plenty of awkward run-ins, or even mistaken identity. Siaja kissing Alistair before she knows he's her dad still feels icky. I think even an almost kiss would've been more than enough, and it's dropped pretty quickly (thankfully as an audience member but I don't think as a character it would've been let go as easily). Although more is certainly forthcoming, a bit too much is being withheld so far about Neevee + Alistair's pasts, both together and what they've been up to separately. More about Neevee's addiction recovery and how it shaped Siaja would also greatly augment their characters that much more. Despite Qaunaq + Poching's game performances, Millie + Colin don't feel like fully-realized characters yet. At least we know Colin fancies one of the male firefighters. Despite playing a non-heterosexual character, Poching has not made any public statements about sharing sexuality with Colin. North of North is a sunny Canadian small town hangout comedy about an Inuit family adapting to several big changes, with excellent performances, silly comedy mixed with hints of deeper drama, and beautiful Indigenous representation. Despite character bumps, I want to highlight this series' beautiful specificity by giving it more (northern) exposure.

Team: Anya Adams (director, ep), Stacey Aglok MacDonald (creator, ep, writer); Alethea Arnaquq-Baril (creator, ep, writer); Kathryn Borel, Jr. (writer); Garry Campbell (ep, writer); Susan Coyne (ep, writer); Miranda de Pencier (ep); Linsey Stewart (writer); Aleysa Young (director)

Series Regulars: Anna Lambe as Siaja, Maika Harper as Neevee, Braeden Clarke as Kuuk, Zorga Qaunaq as Millie, Bailey Poching as Colin, Kelly William as Ting, Jay Ryan as Alistair, Mary Lynn Rajskub as Helen

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Northwood Entertainment, Red Marrow Media

[fourthofgoodbye]

Black Mirror: Season 7 (Netflix)

Black Mirror: Season 7 (Netflix)

Drama

Logline: The dark side of life + technology.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

Technology already plays an outsized role in our lives, but with the spectres of ballooning artificial intelligence (AI) + toxic platforms gaining even more rampant popularity + influence, it's no surprise that technology cleanses are becoming more common. Netflix's newest (returning) drama arrives at what feels like the perfect time for escapism from current dystopian tech nightmares, even if the Charlie Brooker-created series has a long history of making predictions that have come true. Black Mirror's seventh season is a sci-fi horror episodic anthology that represents both a return to form + attempts to capitalize on its own magic. A spiritual sequel to the beloved third season San Junipero episode that tracks two women discovering their love for each other in a temporary digital environment is a season highlight (and a series highlight for me). However, this time instead of the 1980s, it's set in an eminently-stylish 1940s black + white visual aesthetic that creator Brooker said was inspired by his watch of revered 1945 British romantic drama Brief Encounter, which also has been interpreted to have its own gay allegory. Another episode also features two cameos from the experimental choose-your-own-adventure Bandersnatch feature. Not to mention this season's USS Callister follow-up finale. It's not just the sequel elements but several Easter eggs for Mirrorites. So much of what made the early Black Mirror episodes so beloved is also present in this new season, but often with more updated tech vehicles and the same social commentary. The stories often escalated into sometimes-absurd but often-compelling places. The first episode comments on late-stage capitalism's ghoulish attempts to extort every cent possible from its users whether it be through intrusive ads or brand new membership tiers. It also has layers of the increasingly-horrifying things humans must do to live in a world that often cares more about dehumanizing moneymaking tactics for the sake of "entertainment" than quality of life. The fourth episode does a 180° by speaking to the dehumanization of machines as objects made to endure whatever treatment their oft-violent human masters decide. It also tackles humans' long interest in anthropomorphizing technology, especially when it's very cute animated video game characters (which are playable on Netflix's newest game offering). The second episode employs a piece of tech that makes gaslighting real, in an excellent example of escalating the stakes to a bonkers level. It also is one of the few episodes for which I'd pitch a sequel given the ending. The aforementioned spiritual sequel is a commentary on remakes, gender roles, and gender roles in remakes with two women inhabiting the roles then (and still now) predominantly assigned to a man + a woman. The episode is also intriguing for how it plays with gender roles since one of its leads identifies as non-binary IRL, so their 1940s era female character gaining agency is both gratifying to see and even more heartbreaking as it's challenged. It also features a creative use of AI in media, even though, as Brooker commented, humans' creativity + experiences always provide the best stories, even or especially when off-script. In fact, as the series continues to demonstrate through its twisted stories, and to paraphrase RuPaul's thoughts on drag's impact, technology reveals who we are as humans. A woman who benefits from technology is now its best salesperson even when its morally cloudy at best, another uses her vast computer knowledge to effectuate revenge over childhood bullying. Some episodes deftly mixed humor into the drama (particularly the third episode) by taking advantage of its enviable roster of talent's varied skillsets while also revealing new dimensions for others. A storied British actor gets to add yet another menacing smirk to his résumé, while a beloved American actress gets to play against type in a few different ways while still maintaining her signature charm. There are also quite a few breakout performances.

The fourth episode ("Plaything," ****) tracked Cameron Walker's (Peter Capaldi as his older self, Lewis Gribben as his younger self, both excellent in their creepiness) choices while affected by a video game called Thronglets that compelled him to murder someone in the past after contact with Colin + Mohan (an eccentric Will Poulter + a slick Asim Chaudry, both reprising their roles from Bandersnatch) and has a sinister plot for the present where his interrogation by Jen + Kano (a steely Michele Austin + a demanding James Nelson-Joyce, both effective) leads to a surprising conclusion. The first episode ("Common People," ****) tells a late-stage capitalist cautionary tale about a loving husband Mike (a haunting Chris O'Dowd) accepting a life-changing opportunity for his wife Amanda (a wonderful Rashida Jones) that keeps her consciousness active but is subjected to ever-increasing price + lifestyle changes overseen by sunny tech representative Gaynor (a lovely Tracee Ellis Ross), causing Mike to make heartbreaking changes that escalate into tragedy. The second episode ("Bête Noire," ****) brought an old classmate Verity (a fantastic Rosy McEwen) back into confectioner Maria's (a superlative Siena Kelly) life just as everything goes bad between them with escalating, unexplained changes that should not be possible, until Verity's revenge plan seems to be almost perfectly executed until a big complication catapults Maria into different territory. The third episode ("Hotel Reverie," *****), my fave, offered a very meta retold love story between Brandy (a spectacular Issa Rae) + Dorothy (a magnificent Emma Corrin) that took advantage of futuristic technology operated by Kimmy (a more serious Awkwafina) + Judith (a lowkey hilarious Harriet Walter) that used technology to digitally reshoot an old movie, offering gorgeous cinematography, a compelling mix of humor + drama, and another beautiful queer love story.

Many of the similar issues in this season were true in some other seasons of the series as well. Some of the episodes feel like they ended just when things were getting their thorniest or most intriguing (the fourth episode) while others felt like they were stretched out (the first episode). The fourth episode's cliffhanger felt like the unexpected moment of the episode, opening up the world in ways that the rest of the episode felt confined by. Even though other episodes were much more violent, the first episode felt cruel almost to an unnecessary point. Though the ending felt signature bleak Black Mirror, some of the moments in between felt a bit overextended or felt more like belaboring Amanda's suffering. The fourth episode felt like it took a bit too long to get to its point, though the performances were quite effective. The third episode's more cerebral storytelling points might also feel inaccessible and/or uninteresting to those who aren't interested in writing. Though she plays a non-heterosexual character, LGBTQ+ ally Rae has made no public statements about sharing sexualities with Brandy. Black Mirror's seventh season is a potent new batch of sci-fi horror episodes that once again strike fear + reveal humanity while offering engaging takes, with superlative acting, multifaceted social commentary, and gorgeous aesthetics. Despite storytelling bumps, this new installment puts the "fun" in "funhouse mirror."

Team: Bisha K. Ali (ep, writer), Charlie Brooker (creator, ep, writer), Toby Haynes (director), Annabel Jones (ep), Ally Pankiw (director), Jessica Rhoades (ep), David Slade (director), Haolu Wang (director)

Series Regulars: Rashida Jones as Amanda, Chris O'Dowd as Mike, Tracee Ellis Rose as Gaynor, Siena Kelly as Maria, Rosy McEwen as Verity, Issa Rae as Brandy, Emma Corrin as Dorothy, Harriet Walter as Judith Keyworth, Awkwafina as Kimmy, Peter Capaldi as Older Cameron Walker, Lewis Gribben as Younger Cameron Walker, James Nelson-Joyce as Kano, Michele Austin as Jen Minter, Asim Chaudry as Mohan Thakur, Will Poulter as Colin Ritman

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Broke & Bones

[fourthofgoodbye]

The Studio (Apple TV+)

The Studio (Apple TV+)

Comedy

Logline: Desperate for celebrity approval, the newly appointed head of a movie studio + his executive team at Continental Studios must juggle corporate demands with creative ambitions as they try to keep movies alive + relevant.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

I was chatting with my dad the other day about Netflix's The Residence, and was describing to him different ways they could have achieved the abundance of camera cuts to different characters, which all seemed both novel + expected to him. Apple TV+'s newest comedy can feel like a similar way to show how the sausage is made, but with a wry, satirical bent. The Studio is a Hollywood-set workplace cringe comedy about a beleaguered new studio head's adjustment to his new responsibilities as chaos reigns around him. When it's brilliant, it's brilliant. As in the second episode about a one-take that seems to have been shot in... one take. Not only does this take a massive amount of skill, planning, and creativity to conceive of how such an undertaking would happen, but to actually execute it is also another thing entirely. The long tracking shots of the characters, which may take a similar adjustment period as Succession's shaky camera work, firmly plant the audience in the mindset of the chaos the characters must constantly deal with. I personally think it's good for non-industry folks to see the ever-deepening struggles between art + commerce, especially as Hollywood may start to see the effects of the current administration's economic policies on its worldwide bottom lines. Long have there been concerns in + outside of the industry about the overabundance of intellectual property (IP) and a lack of original ideas. However, the series not only addresses that studios often prioritize financial success over originality, but has a scathing example with a film about a beloved piece of IP: the Kool-Aid Man. Not only is a last minute pitch on a more "adult" or "modern" version of the Kool-Aid Man shown but the twisted desperation to make that film work even contorts guest star Martin Scorsese's film idea about the Jonestown massacre, which of course featured the flavored drink. Eagle-eyed viewers may also be able to spot real-life parallels like a certain female executive's professional trajectory or the unfortunately very common practice of buying projects in order to shelve them. Though the details may be more foreign to some, there are plenty of classic sitcom set ups: a missing object that characters go on the hunt for (sometimes in a stylish noir-adjacent detective style), metaphorically drawing straws about who gets to deliver bad news to a VIP, and even about trying to keep a meddlesome person away from a delicate situation.

Seth Rogen, also a co-creator, co-director, executive producer, and co-writer, is a nice lead as Matt, the new Continental Studios executive who is often forced to violate his personal beliefs to accomplish the studio's goals, something Rogen's aww-shucks but occasionally hysterical responses help reinforce. Ike Barinholtz's production executive + Matt's good friend Sal is a lot of bombastic vinegar, often tossing out silly lines like calling a bad hair dye job after a conservative politician or talking about getting "double-stuffed" by two Hollywood entities to sell his excitement. Chase Sui Wonders' newly-promoted creative executive Quinn gets to showcase her ambition + love of cinema, but hasn't gotten too much else to do yet. Dewayne Perkins, Christopher Carrington, Thomas Barbusca, and Bryan Cranston as a slimy studio owner also put in very nice episodic work. There are celebrity guest stars galore: Greta Lee, Sarah Polley, Charlize Theron, Olivia Wilde, Anthony Mackie, Ron Howard, Zac Efron, Paul Dano, Peter Berg, Nicholas Stoller, Steve Buscemi, and Martin Scorsese, with Lee, Polley, Wilde, Mackie, Howard, Efron, and Scorsese standing out as (hopefully) not as nice versions of themselves. Best of all are Catherine O'Hara + Kathryn Hahn. Hahn's obnoxiously-trendy wardrobe + bottom-line-worshipping marketing czar Maya elevates every scenes she's in with some of the series' best one-liners ("moister than an oyster" + "Never Ending Snore-y" were two personal faves), even though her appearances so far are pretty limited. O'Hara's exec-turned-producer Patty Leigh similarly gets to contrast with Matt, who replaced her as studio head, by both her frankness (her breakdown of how the industry rewards an "entitled nepo baby in a beanie" was sad) and nakedly-obvious displays of forced pleasantness in order to get what she wants, which makes her a force that Matt may need to eventually contend with.

The fourth episode ("The Missing Reel," ****) challenged Matt + Sal to find a missing reel on Olivia Wilde + Zac Efron's new film that could have disastrous effects, while Matt narrates his troubles on his phone per a therapist, and a last minute Olivia twist leads to a wild ending. The pilot ("The Promotion," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character intros (and lots of cameos), a juicy conflict, and a low-key ending. The second episode ("The Oner," *****), my fave, executed the titular shot in the episode, while Matt provides a big disruption to the set where Sarah Polley + Greta Lee are trying to execute a oner, Patty + Sal try to manage Matt's disastrous people-pleaser behavior, and the episode ends with a nice bookend. The third episode ("The Note," ****) pushed Matt to give Ron Howard a note about his new film but his past with Howard gives him pause, while Quinn, Sal, and even star Anthony Mackie agree on the note but end up refusing to give it, and Patty tries to get Matt to read a new script.

My biggest issue with the series, and it may just be me, is that it lacks engaging commentary on the industry itself. The series can be entertaining, dazzling even, but it feels a bit empty without having a take beyond Hollywood is a sometimes bonkers capitalist trap. There aren't many consistent characters of color, LGBTQ+ experience, or even non-males (two of the three female series regulars only appear in half of the four episodes), while the lead character is a white heterosexual male. Matt taking Patty's position could certainly rouse claims of sexism, ageism, or both. Matt asking his female Asian assistant to do his dirty work could also be seen as sexism, racism, or both. Neither scenario played out that way. An offhand comment at an inopportune time about how Matt supports Sarah Polley as a female director does not constitute commentary on feminism or the reduced amount of female directors. The other female director featured, Olivia Wilde, is also portrayed in the series as a challenging director (though her climactic turn was good), which could be interpreted as another anti-feminist statement. Some of the characterization feels more superficial or less around building a satisfying arc that the character can go through. Matt's more people-pleasing personality feels more at odds with how studio executives have both been messaged via media or by their reported actions (Cranston is much closer) to the point where he feels not only less realistic but less active as a character. Matt has made one seismic mistake after another that it's a surprise he hasn't been fired. In the span of these four episodes, I don't know how he has kept his job after upsetting many people who unfortunately cross his path, but especially including upper echelon Hollywood luminaries like Martin Scorsese + Ron Howard. Mostly, Matt feels less like an active character with flaws he wants to address or double down on, but rather more reactive in the moment while others around him are mostly more driven to do things. In fact, in the Howard example, he's actively trying not to confront his idol, and his reasoning, a past torment, could have been a rich moment of growth potential, but instead was ultimately dismissed. He gets a moment where he realizes that his job isn't about creativity as much as servicing all of the people who need servicing, but it doesn't feel like a glorious revelation or the start of a journey, more a sad acceptance of his reality. The other characters also lack interiority or much life outside their work. Even mentions of Sal's alcoholism feel more like a relevant detail to the episode than a character arc. Some may also find the insularity of the Hollywood and/or film commentary a bit inaccessible, even if the actors do a fine job of making it seem interesting. Knowing what a "oner," the title of the second episode, may not feel particularly interesting to a casual TV consumer. Some of the jokes are deeper cuts into film lore, like calling Sylvester Stallone's 1993 film Demolition Man "a 150-minute Taco Bell commercial" or calling someone a "dime store Bob Evans," referring not to the popular restaurant chain but the late producer behind 1974 neo-noir mystery film Chinatown, referenced more than once despite being directed by accused sexual abuser R*m*n P*l*nsk*. The humor, especially the cringe, may not be for everyone. For example, Matt says that predators make good movies, which, for me, comes across more tone deaf than darkly humorous. However, I did love how Matt's classic car was the biggest obstruction in an episode. The cameos may also feel a bit gimmicky, especially when the escalated versions of some of the guests are stronger showings that the main characters themselves. The Studio is a Hollywood satire that honors its legacy + points to its problems, with nice performances (and an abundance of delightful cameos), film buff-worthy trivia, and some excellent camera work. Despite storytelling + character issues, this one deserves its greenlight.

Team: Josh Fagen (ep), Evan Goldberg (creator, director, ep, writer), Alex Gregory (creator, ep, writer), Peter Huyck (creator, ep, writer), Alex McAtee (ep), Frida Perez (creator, writer), Seth Rogen (creator, director, ep, writer)

Series Regulars: Seth Rogen as Matt Remick, Catherine O'Hara as Patty Leigh, Ike Barinholtz as Sal Seperstein, Chase Sui Wonders as Quinn Hackett, Kathryn Hahn as Maya

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Contractually Obligated, Coytesville Productions, Lionsgate Television, Point Grey Pictures, Two Second Half Screen, Vanity Card Productions

[fourthofgoodbye]

The Bondsman (Amazon)

The Bondsman (Amazon)

Drama

Logline: A backwoods bounty hunter comes back from the dead with an unexpected second chance at life, love, and a nearly-forgotten musical career — only to find that his old job now has a demonic new twist.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ***

Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon is a fun celebrity take on the concept of "six degrees of separation" that everyone in Hollywood is six or fewer connections apart from the Footloose star. Amazon's newest drama offers a lesser seen Bacon, a country singing bail bondsman for the Devil. The Bondsman is a Georgia-set horror half-hour drama with a familiar premise containing a few twists. Someone in need of moral reform who must complete good deeds in order to save his eternal soul is procedural gold, especially when the mythology isn't limited to a single source (and some seems invented for the series). From the opening scene's graphically-slow slit throat to a possessed priest who peels his melted skin from his face off the ground before it regrows anew leaving the shed skin on the ground, the series, produced by Jason Blum's horror haus, Blumhouse Television, is not afraid of gore. An opening scene of one episode features a human cheerleader livestreaming feigned sadness over being "bullied" followed by her breaking painted nails on the tile of the bathtub when the demon killed her to possess her body. The series also leans into quirkiness with the Devil being represented on Earth by the fictional Pot O'Gold corporation, which seems to be, of course, a multilevel marketing (MLM) company. Pot O'Gold also has a demon-hunting manual that hasn't been updated since the early 1970s but has an online counterpart. The missions are also communicated via a radio + a fax machine. Bacon harkens to his country rock Bacon Brothers days by singing alongside a professional country singer (plus another musician in the cast who sings) to help add another, underutilized element that makes the series unique.

Kevin Bacon, also an executive producer, is a good lead as Hub, a bail bondsman who keeps Bacon's movie star scene-stealing gifts in check in favor of him being charmingly gruff + hardened in both life + after-life. Country singer Jennifer Nettles' Maryanne may light up a stage but is underwritten when off it, largely being a disapproving ex-wife + concerned mother who gets a glimmer of something interesting when she challenges Hub's motives. Maxwell Jenkins is good as Hub's mid-teens son Cade, who he is pseudo-estranged from (never driven him to school before) and his attempts to reconnect with his dad hit an iceberg when Hub challenges his readiness to follow in his parents' footsteps on stage. Damon Herriman brings grit to local crime lord Lucky, who with his Red Sox standom + comparatively-hammy accent seems to be one big dig at Boston as his culpability in Hub's death is slowly revealed to a chagrined Maryanne. Jolene Purdy is fun as Hub's handler Midge, a mix of creepy smiles, PTA mom energy, and veiled threats that make her one of, if not the most, interesting characters. Denitra Isler, Alea Hansinger, Dave Macomber, and Mike Kaye also put in good appearances. Best of all is Beth Grant as Hub's mother Kitty, a devout Christian woman (her seriously saying to Midge that it's clear that Hub has flaws in front of Hub had big "bless your heart" vibes) whose bulletproof vest has a tag that reads "Momma Bear" and with her varied skillsets, is proving to be a vital, grounding source of support for Hub and of comedic relief to the series.

The fourth episode ("Erdos," ***) brought Maryanne into Hub's activities to her regret, while Kitty helps protect Hub + herself from Lucky, Hub contacts a surprised Midge, Hub deals with Lucky, and a tense cliffhanger presents Hub with a new concern. The pilot ("Pot O'Gold," ***) set everything up okay, with good character moments, gory action, and a curious cliffhanger. The second episode ("Valacor," ***) laid out the stakes for Hub by Midge, while Kitty feels guilty for Hub's predicament and joins him in tracking down Ron, Maryanne worries about Hub, and Kitty + Hub do what they needed to do to keep Hub going. The third episode ("Marphos," ***), my fave, sent Hub on his next mission with the titular monster inhabiting the body of a cheerleader, while Hub brings Cade along only to bond then create distance between them when his grievances against Lucky are shown, Lucky threatens Kitty, Maryanne confronts Hub about his jealousy, and Hub visits an old worksite.

The cases du jour have felt more anticlimactic than satisfying. The priest in the first two episodes had some creepy moments, but the best part of the killing was Kitty rueing the fact that she'd have to find a new church. The deputy in the fourth episode was more interesting for involving Maryanne than his possession. The third episode's cheerleader was not only far more interesting before + after her possession. There are the bones of a tighter series here that focuses on Hub + Kitty (and potentially Maryanne + Cade) solving demon possession cases in order to keep him out of hell, while excising most of the storylines involving Lucky (which is not shade to Herriman). Unless a deeper tie to the proceedings is shown, like Lucky is the Devil or one of his high-ranking lieutenants, Hub getting a second chance to repair his connections with Maryanne + Cade, plus more time with Kitty, feels like plenty to latch onto in Hub's non-demon-hunting world. More about Midge and/or the Devil's plans for Hub would help fill out Hub and the season or series story much stronger. While the mission + the stakes were explained, the why of it all doesn't feel adequately stated or shown yet. Because of this thematic nebulousness, religious or moral commentary on aspects like Hub's (or even Kitty's) questionable morality isn't prominent. Said in a different way, things feel confusing not mysterious at halfway through the first season. Though I am usually a big fan of half hour dramas, I actually feel like the shorter episode lengths somewhat hinder the storytelling. Ending the pilot on Midge's offer to Hub to be the Devil's bondsman feels more like the end of a second or third act of an episode. If the first two episodes were merged and the ending of the pilot were changed to being Hub + Kitty's first kill might have been a more climactic ending than as it currently stands. The third + fourth episodes both felt like they had potential legs to be full hourlong episodes without being combined, but the battles with the demons felt lackluster. Also, some of the special effects feel a bit underwhelming. It's not quite funny enough to be a comedy or even a comedrama, despite best efforts by Grant that signal the drama could benefit from a bit more dark humor. Only one of the six series regulars is POC, which is still very disappointing in 2025, especially for a horror project. The Bondsman is a half hour horror drama that offers macabre procedural vibes, with good performances + idiosyncratic touches. Despite storytelling + character bumps, audiences can decide whether to skip bail or if this brings home the Bacon.

Team: Kevin Bacon (ep), Jason Blum (ep), Grainger David (creator, ep, writer), Chris Dickie (ep), Thor Freudenthal (director), Jeremy Gold (ep), Sanaa Hamri (director), Chris McCumber (ep), Erik Oleson (ep, writer), Paul Shapiro (ep)

Series Regulars: Kevin Bacon as Hub Halloran, Jennifer Nettles as Maryanne Dice, Beth Grant as Kitty Halloran, Damon Herriman as Lucky Callahan, Maxwell Jenkins as Cade Halloran, Jolene Purdy as Midge

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Amazon MGM Studios, Blumhouse Television, CrimeThink, Marker 96, Medina Films

[fourthofgoodbye]

Pulse (Netflix)

Pulse (Netflix)

Drama

Logline: The personal + professional lives of doctors + staff at a busy Miami trauma center.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ***

Every year when the broadcast networks release their annual viewership statistics, the most watched scripted series are quite often procedurals, so it makes sense that many networks try to harness the power of a repeatable format where experts do their job and the cases are (much more often than not) solved by episode's end. Netflix's newest drama is an attempt to bottle the medial procedural energy in their own binge format to decidedly mixed results. Pulse is a Miami-set emergency room medical drama with a soapiness so juiced up to the point that the the relationship drama is more pulse-pounding than medical drama, a positive for people who prefer seeing photogenic professionals with penchants for personal problems. In yet another case of don't-date-at-work, two high-level doctors have not only broken up but one filed a sexual harassment complaint against the other, leaving everyone affected by their past + present actions. Lines are drawn, like when one doctor is resistant to another shadowing him on a unique procedure or when a best friend feels hurt by not knowing their BFF was secretly dating (likely because he wanted to date her). Oh, and an incoming hurricane means that the accused doctor will be stuck working an already-high-intensity shift with his accuser. Also, props for opening the series with a multi-episode hurricane shift arc, something many procedurals may do over, at most, two episodes. Also, a new character introduced in the fourth episode seems like she will add quite a bit to the dynamics. Even though it could be seen as a negative, I personally enjoyed seeing the personal toll that the medical care (and the interpersonal work drama) takes on them, as a way to humanize the staff. Some of the staff also often switch between English + Spanish (some non-native speakers are better than others) to accommodate patient needs and to express themselves in a different way. Five of the eight series regulars are POC, which makes the Miami setting make sense. There is also a character in a wheelchair played by an actress who uses one (as opposed to one who learned to use it for the role), and her inclusion feels matter-of-fact without having to overemphasize her challenges.

LWilla Fitzgerald is a good lead as third year resident Danny, buckling under pressure as she becomes the Chief Resident while dealing with the fallout from claiming she was sexually harassed by Colin Woodell's current Chief Resident Xander, the talented son of the hospital's biggest donors, despite the fact that their flashbacks at least muddy the current claims. Jessie T. Usher is also nice as fellow third year resident Sam, who is Danny's best friend + also in the running for Chief Resident, though he seems more concerned about comforting her than being jealous. Justina Machado is expectedly wonderful as Surgery Chair Natalie, an oft-fair but firm boss who puts her work aside when her daughter Vero (Sophia Torres) is brought in, but it's her friendly scenes with Nestor Carbonell's surgeon Ruben that warm my heart the most because of how well these two seasoned professionals handle their scenes. Jack Bannon's English transplant Tom gets a bit more than his smarmy manners when he tries to kiss up to Ruben and trying to balance flirtation with two medical staff (Ash Santos + Jessica Rothe, both good). Chelsea Muirhead's surgical intern Sophie needs to work on her confidence a bit, while Daniela Nieves' third year medical student Camila is all personality, but they are better together as a sort of opposites-attract team. Jessy Yates' second year resident Harper may be in a wheelchair but navigates around the hospital as if she wasn't in one, and her support for her sister Danny is heartwarming, if not a little one-note. Charlayne Woodard's new attending physician Lucy has already shown herself to be formidable on + off the floor, while Arturo Del Puerto's charge nurse Luis also puts in nice supporting work.

The fourth episode ("Treat 'Em and Street 'Em," ***) brought the end of Hurricane Abby but Danny then had to weather the storm of a betrayed Sam, an angry Xander, and tough new attending Lucy, while Vero wakes up to Natalie's relief, Tom impresses Ruben + gets much closer to Nia, Sophie + Camila butt heads, and Lucy + Xander's final conversation changes the dynamics. The pilot ("Abby," ***) set everything up okay, with good character intros, plenty of interpersonal drama, and a curious mystery. The second episode ("Alone Time," ***) pitted Danny + Xander against each other in the present as their past flirtation is shown, while Danny must face her fears of pregnant women, Sam shows Danny where his loyalties lie, Tom comes down hard on Sophie while trying to help Mia before nearly running afoul of Ruben, Natalie's judgment related to her daughter may be compromised, and a bit more of Harper's past is revealed. The third episode ("Power," ***), my fave, pushed Danny even further as the truth about her relationship then + now is slowly coming out, while Sophie + Camila team up to help an MIA patient, Tom chafes at Danny wanting to shadow a surgery of his, Xander uses his nepotism for good, and Vero is in trouble as Natalie tries to help.

Unlike other medical procedurals that often balance the two, the patients are very much not the focus compared to the doctors. The patients don't have interesting enough personalities or cases to warrant being spotlighted more than the doctors, serving more as conduits for the doctors' stories. However, even with a potentially-rich well to draw from, because the focus is on the doctors, their stories have to be compelling, and they are mostly not. Though it's 100% understandable to watch Natalie stay at Vero's bedside, the reason why Danny initially wanted to not tell her about it was because she felt it would affect her patient care. Natalie stayed by her daughter's side, neglecting her patients during a hurricane and also being told more than once that her emotions may compromise her daughter's care, ironically proving Danny correct. Seeing Natalie be an attentive mother is beautiful, but her both at least neglecting her patients and bringing Xander back on to work alongside Danny after she filed a sexual harassment claim against him is problematic. Yes, it's a hurricane, but it still feels icky. It doesn't help that Xander is son of one of the hospital's biggest donors and seems to have left his last hospital under mysterious circumstances. There is still real estate + story runway to make their steamy past + feisty present into something complex, but currently their conflict feels like it won't be as straightforward as it seems. Too much of what really happened between them feels like it's being withheld just to drum up drama that it feels emotionally manipulative. However, as the chosen story anchor for the season, the soapiness can often override the non-Danny + -Xander characters from being more satisfyingly fleshed out. Despite Usher's charming performance, Sam feels like he's just there to support his best friend (and unrequited love interest), hugging her when she breaks down, challenging her when she isn't putting her best foot forward, but rarely getting an interiority of his own. There is an attempt to make him in direct rivalry for the chief resident position with Danny, but that is more played out via others' reactions than his own actions. In fact, Sam's most intriguing scene was Sam chatting (and possibly flirting) with Harper, who similarly has mostly served as a reaction generator for Danny without much of anything resembling a personal life. The music feels like it attended the school of CW acoustic and/or brooding needle drops to shamelessly soundtrack emotional moments. Pulse is a Miami-set medical drama that prioritizes its interpersonal conflicts over its patients, with good performances + interesting choices for a procedural. Despite major character + storytelling issues, audiences can decide if this series demands a second opinion. Wary carry.

Team: Shepard Boucher (writer), Sarah Boyd (director), Helen Childress (writer), Carlton Cuse (ep), Kate Dennis (director, ep), Emma Forman (ep), Bradley Gardner (ep), Michael Klick (ep), Zoe Robyn (creator, ep, writer)

Series Regulars: Willa Fitzgerald as Danielle "Danny" Simms, Colin Woodell as Xander Phillips, Justina Machado as Natalie Cruz, Jack Bannon as Tom Cole, Jessie T. Usher as Sam Elijah, Jessy Yates as Harper Simms, Chelsea Muirhead as Sophie Chan, Daniela Nieves as Camila Perez

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Busy B Entertainment, Genre Arts, Letter Zed, MGM Television

[fourthofgoodbye]

Mid-Century Modern (Hulu)

Mid-Century Modern (Hulu)

Comedy

Logline: Three best friends — gay gentlemen of a certain age – who, after an unexpected death, decide to spend their golden years living together in Palm Springs where the wealthiest one lives with his mother.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

Ageism in gay male communities is a significant issue, especially when it comes to visibility as, like in other communities, youth is prized + prioritized. Hulu's newest comedy not only presents three gay men of a certain age (though one was not alive when the Watergate culprits were found guilty) but could be somewhat reductively but nonetheless accurately nicknamed Golden Gays for one of its obvious inspirations. Mid-Century Modern, created by Will & Grace creators Max Mutchnick + David Kohan (plus director James Burrows + several of the writing staff, and prolific gay creator Ryan Murphy as an executive producer) is a breezy, feel-good multicamera sitcom about three older gay men growing old together in Palm Springs. There are plenty of universal things that many humans go through as they reach a certain age, but the series gets the opportunity to speak to some things that affect gay men of a certain age as well. The fact that a lot of us are still alive after surviving things like oppressive governments that try to legislate away our inalienable rights and the devastating HIV/AIDS epidemic is an accomplishment in + of itself. However, the loneliness epidemic takes on an additional layer for older gay men. Same-sex marriage may be a (current) federal right but because of the youth obsession in gay male communities, older gay men are just as prone as their heterosexual counterparts to fall prey to a hustler lurking on dating apps. A gay man who came out after having children with a wife must decide how to position his distance to his grown-up daughter, while another must cope with his guilt over ghosting his first + only female sexual partner, leading to a wonderful video call resolution with a legendary guest actress. The fact that this kind of comedy featuring three gay lead characters all played by three out gay actors may not break new ground in 2025 but certainly has gained additional importance in these darker times for some LGBTQ+ folks. Gay-led anything feels increasingly rare, and often retrofitted to embrace non-gay audiences' varying degrees of education on all things g-a-y. Of course there has to be drama/tension because it's a TV series, but there is also an abundance of queer joy, from a nostalgic Salt-N-Pepa performance to seeing the youngest of the group land an older casino worker to the way the three leads hang out in bed together watching TV. It may not seem like much to non-gay people, but when much of our media representation revolves around the dreaded closet or "shocking" sexuality, it's actually revolutionary to see gay happiness with friends. Their streaming home certainly lends itself to slightly spicier lines (a "pillow queen" line here, a "reluctant bottom" one there) than would typically exist. A woman calls out that her housemate's underwear + socks both have holes in them and she knows only one can be intentional. I'm very happy that in-community things like common HIV prevention drug PrEP (Pre-Exposure Prophylaxis) were presented as matter-of-fact rather than a Very Special Episode™ topic. It's not just all about being gay. There's also concerns with a sister's place in the family, getting a job that is considered far below their résumé to pay bills, a meddling mother who pretends not to meddle, and of course, a mild case of COVID that brings out personal revelations. The characters all feel distinct, even down to the way they react at their deceased best friend's funeral: one is bottled up, one is tearful, and the third hates his departed friend's suit. The cast chemistry is already quite strong, and I could easily see this having an extended shelf life like its inspirations.

Nathan Lane, also an executive producer, is a seasoned, wonderful lead as bra mogul Bunny, who empowers Lane to inhabit the physical comedy + propensity for punchy, theatrical line readings that easily make him the neurotic Dorothy (Bea Arthur) from Golden Girls. Matt Bomer, also an executive producer, also does well as flight attendant Jerry, who is definitely the Rose (Betty White) of the group (just replace St. Olaf with ex-Mormon + himbo lines), and reliably excels at the dramatic points (especially his beautiful scene [re]connecting with his estranged daughter Becca, a very good Billie Lourd) than the comedic points, though him getting to be more effeminate, especially in a silly misfire where Jerry thinks eating dessert before a meal is a worthy "Never Have I Ever" question, is a fun contrast to his usual more masculine-presenting roles (especially his most recent Golden Globe nominated turn as a closeted politician in Showtime's Fellow Travelers). Pamela Adlon makes an impression as Bunny's empty nester sister Mindy, and could be an easy season two addition. Guest appearances by Cheri Oteri's drunk flight attendant, Vanessa Bayer's loyal rich shopper, Bruno Amato's sarcastic casino employee, and Jesse Tyler Ferguson as a snooty boss also are highlights. Best of all are Nathan Lee Graham + the late Linda Lavin, who are both blessed with the ability to milk their moments to shine to the point that I would have watched a series of just the two of them. Lavin showcases exactly why she's an Emmy + Golden Globe winner (and could definitely earn another posthumous nom) by absolutely nailing every single comedic element she's presented with as Sybil, clearly the sarcastic Sofia (Estelle Getty) of the group, from a withering look to her vinegary punchlines ("Oh, sweetheart, [your house + belongings are] all garbage" is my personal favorite that I have watched on repeat several times). Graham brings a regal bitchiness to former Vogue editor Arthur, who is Blanche (Rue McClanahan) via New York without as much overt sexiness, who can go toe-to-toe with Lavin on punchlines (and does in a few blessed scenes) + delivers a hell of a takedown in the second episode, but also gets some heart as he must put his ego aside to take a job that he considers beneath him to pay for his La Mer (another thing he shares with Sybil) as well as a meaningful reconnection with his female friend Yvonne (the legendary Kim Coles, delightful, and another worthy second season addition).

The fourth episode ("Never Have I Ever," ****) exposed a long-held secret about Arthur + Jerry that makes Bunny jealous during the titular game during a COVID quarantine, while Arthur feels intense guilt over his first + only sexual experience with a woman and Bunny + Jerry have an intense conversation. The pilot ("Bye, George," ***) set everything up okay, with good character intros, a mix of dated + current humor, and a good series set-up. The second episode ("Working Girls," ***) challenged Arthur to decide how much of his ego to put aside when Sybil helps get him a job as a personal shopper, while Jerry tries to go to a Donny Osmond concert, Bunny gets so in over his head with a gambling debt that he tries to get Jerry to help him, and Arthur bonds with Sybil. The third episode ("Turbulence," ****), my fave, pushed Jerry to confront his past when an estranged Becca appears on his flight, while Sybil + Bunny deal with Mindy's disruptive visit that dredges up old wounds, Arthur must adapt to a new temp job, and Bunny offers Mindy a job.

As a middle-aged gay man, I honestly was actually unsure of how I'd feel about the series. Though I ended up enjoying it much more as it went on, I wish some aspects were sharper. The few times a series centering on LGBTQ+ people are made, there is a lot of unfair pressure put on them to encapsulate communities that are as diverse as the kaleidoscopic breadth of the human experience, which is impossible. However, even without the weight of carrying entire communities on its back, the series can still feel like it lets down some aspects of representation. Just like The White Lotus' most recent season speaks to a horrible lie that non-heterosexual men engage in incest (as if heterosexual men do not), the series also trades in a common trope for gay men: we cannot be friends without falling in lust and/or love with each other. It forms the basis of the fourth episode's main group tension, and it feels like a clumsy reminder that this kind of representation made by + starring gay men can take different tacks when telling our stories. Additionally, a problem that often affects LGBTQ+ representation (though it's a wider issue in general), only one of the series regulars is not white, and much of the supporting cast are white. Bunny also keeps using Spanish words to describe a Latin/Hispanic male hookup, and it feels uncomfortable. There has only been one even somewhat prominent Asian character, and she did not get to say much of anything. Call Margaret Cho, BD Wong, and George Takei, just for starters. Unfortunately, some of the humor feels either dated or predictable from a mile away (or both, in some frustrating cases). There are Donny Osmond puns, a Game of Thrones reference, and even a punny hotel name called "Chauvette Inn" is blunted when Jerry blurts out that it's a take on "shove it in." It mostly lacks bite. There are also the recycled plots, which are common in sitcoms (which is, of course, short for "situational comedies"). However, it's a little egregious in the second episode. Bunny tries to cancel a casino debt by telling the employee he can sleep with Jerry, a similar plot used in both the original run + revival of Will & Grace. The first two episodes, while they had their moments, felt inferior to the second set of two, but thankfully, the series began improving. For those understandably concerned about how the series handles Lavin's December 2024 passing (3/4 of the way through the first season's production), there are some uncomfortable jokes about her death in these early episodes that may actually seem at least disrespectful in retrospect. Also, the title doesn't necessarily reflect the series' content. Mid-Century Modern is an older gay male friendship sitcom, with wonderful performances, lovely social commentary, and some great in-community moments. Despite a slow start, storytelling, and character bumps, I'm happy to hang out a bit longer with this modern chosen family.

[fourthofgoodbye]

Dope Thief (Apple TV+)

Dope Thief (Apple TV+)

Drama

Logline: Long-time friends + delinquents pose as DEA agents to rob a house in the countryside, but end up unintentionally revealing + unraveling the biggest hidden narcotics corridor on the Eastern seaboard.

Dru's Decision: CARRY | ****

I've spoken before about how #PlatinumTV comedies have slowly taken on more dramatic elements to up their prestige level and separate them from their multicam laffer predecessors, but now it seems like dramas are finally starting to do the same. Apple TV+'s newest drama is certainly not without doom but its secret weapon is actually its sense of humor. Dope Thief, an adaptation of the same-titled book by Dennis Tafoya (a consulting producer here), is a Philadelphia-set gritty crime drama about two over-their-heads drug dealers that has quite a bit to offer. For those interested in action, there are plenty of big moments. The main characters pretty brilliantly masquerade as Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) agents to steal the drugs for themselves, until it's revealed that their last target, which resulted in a fiery shootout, is one of the East Coast's main drug suppliers and two of the dead are actual undercover DEA agents. So, in addition to the seemingly-messy government investigation, a shadowy seemingly-omniscient voice seems to be making good on their threats. The opening sequence is also filled with tension when the two complete their mission but nearly kill a child. There's also two shootouts, a more realistic chase (with a rather gruesome ending), and a quarry-set Molotov cocktail-fueled confrontation involving a racist biker gang. The series also does not shy away from showing the escalating emotional impacts of the violence, especially related to sobriety, which both of the leads struggle with. There's also flashbacks to a car accident death. For those interested in social commentary, threads abound. Set in 2021, COVID is a looming presence, more so in the economic anxiety territory. Rebuilding lives after a global pandemic was a struggle for many of us, and the way this series lean into that as a character motivation without delving much back into a lot of the medical gravity is refreshing as our distance from the pre-vaccination availability days grows. For those interested in interpersonal character-driven drama, the characters have complex relationships. One of the leads was raised by the girlfriend of his abusive father, and he must decide how much he wants to literally invest in helping that man get compassionate release after learning he's been diagnosed with fatal cancer. The other lead tries to convince his loyal girlfriend to stay with him after his criminal misdeeds are revealed, using a hidden engagement ring to convince her. A wounded DEA agent fights to keep her cover after her mission goes awry thanks to the protagonists to honor her deceased co-worker. For those interested in humor, there is an ample but not distracting amount. It's not satirical humor making fun of the genre, but everyday humor that brings in needed levity to help balance the grimness surrounding it. I very much enjoyed the scenes of two lifelong best friends, swept up in bleak circumstances, bickering over what's in a Shirley Temple, the effects of putting hand sanitizer on the face ("It's better than Satanic biker blood!"), and whether their assailants have read any philosophers ("Get down! They all read Sun Tzu!"). They even have a philosophical discussion while holding a grenade. There's also some funny race-based humor, with "all 31 flavors of white boy," calling a concerned Black woman's voice "the original gangster voice," and a name-check of the then-very recent federal insurrection to guess a racist's burner phone password. When told about the Robin Hood-esque justification for his action, a concerned parent barks back: "You didn't give to the poor!" Dogsitting while trying to evade murderers also makes for good, cute tension. A woman trying to regain her speaking ability puts her own frustrated spin on the classic "the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog" phrase, which is also shown to have a heartbreaking other use, in an effective demonstration of balancing humor with hopelessness. For those interested in racial inclusion, there are Black + Brazilian male leads and a Vietnamese crime family.

Brian Tyree Henry, also an executive producer + 100% should be in Emmy conversations, is a fantastic lead as Ray, employing his considerable dramatic + comedic talents in highly-calibrated ways, like his epic, intense conversations with his incarcerated abusive father Bart (an intense + underutilized Ving Rhames) or using his expressive face to convey the grandest of emotions with the subtlest of looks. Wagner Moura's best friend Manny feels quite the opposite of Moura's American-starmaking turn on Netflix's similar-themed Narcos, the more anxious of the two who starts to break down from the stress to a sad breaking point in his sobriety, jeopardizing his standing with Ray + with his girlfriend Sherry (a solid Liz Caribel). Marin Ireland also puts in excellent work as undercover DEA agent Mina, whose on-the-job injury damages her ability to talk (which brings out great dramatic + comedic moments for Ireland to play with) but gets to play the deeper beats of trying to remain true to her mission after the death of her coworker + lover Jack (Gabriel Ebert). Her co-workers Amir Arison's Nader + Will Pullen's Marchetti aren't as fleshed out yet. Nesta Cooper's lawyer Michelle gets a bit more to do than to offer legal (and personal) support to Ray when she seems to help him avoid a DEA trap. Kate Mulgrew is also wonderful as his adoptive mother Theresa, a mix of vinegar + sugar for Ray, and his best verbal sparring partner (I enjoyed their bickering over their taste in music). Dustin Nguyen should 100% lead his own spinoff as Vietnamese crime boss Son, whose immigrant American dream story is one not often seen, plus his cool-as-a-frozen-cucumber response to being questioned about his drug dealing. Kaci Westfall, Adam Petchel, and Spenser Granese also put in good appearances.

The fourth episode ("Philadelphia Lawyer," ****) sent Manny over the edge as he descends into madness over Sherry, while Mina's past mission shades in a few more details as she fights to keep it going, Ray gets help from Son on dealing with the biker gang from Cyrus before Son is arrested, Ray + Manny have a big fight with a grenade between them, and Ray discovers something about Michelle. The pilot ("Jolly Ranchers," ****) set everything up nicely, with good character intros, lots of dramatic tension but with some humor, and two big cliffhangers. The second episode ("Bat Out of Hell," ****) pushed Ray + Manny to new dangers with a biker gang as they track down a new lead thanks to Bart, while Manny goes missing, Ray bribes Theresa to leave town to keep her safe, Mina convinces Mark to keep her cover as the real DEA's investigation leads them to the Ray/Manny shootout, and Ray finally meets with Michelle, who reveals a major Bart secret. The third episode ("Run, Die, Or Relapse," ****), my fave, forced Ray to confront truths with Theresa + Bart, while Manny reappears but must deal with a rightfully upset Sherry, Son makes a choice, Ray helps Michelle + him avoid a biker ambush before deus ex-copina saves him, the DEA's investigation ramps up when they get a lead on Ray, and a cliffhanger ups the danger.

Though I personally love the time spent with Ray + Manny separately but especially them together, there is a version of this series that was a tighter feature film. The action, while often engaging to watch, can also feel a bit absurd, especially given how many armed conflicts Ray manages to walk away from without any devastating physical damage (mental/emotional damage is certainly present). Some of the dialogue can also feel clunky and/or just overtly direct. A few more of the characters could be better fleshed out. The Mina subplot feels the weakest, which is not a dig at Ireland's performance, but that it feels repetitive, mostly inert in its forward momentum, and not as compelling as Ray + Manny's story. Neither Michelle nor Sherry feel rounded out enough as characters for the audience to care beyond what Ray + Manny, respectively, feel about them. Dope Thief is a Philadelphia-set crime drama, with strong performances, nice action, and a mischievous sense of humor. Despite pacing + character issues, this series might be addictive enough to steal focus from other series.

Team: Peter Craig (creator, ep, writer), Tanya Hamilton (ep), Brian Tyree Henry (ep), Richard Heus (ep), Clayton Krueger (ep), Marcela Said (director), Ridley Scott (director, ep), Jordan Sheehan (ep), Jonathan van Tulleken (director), Jennifer Wiley-Moxley (ep), David W. Zucker (ep)

Series Regulars: Brian Tyree Henry as Ray Driscoll, Wagner Moura as Manny Carvalho, Marin Ireland as Mina, Amir Arison as Mark Nader, Nesta Cooper as Michelle Taylor, Kate Mulgrew as Theresa Bowers, Ving Rhames as Bart

Production Company(s)/Studio(s): Apple Studios, Night Owl Stories, Scott Free Productions