This week:
- I hope you’re all watching Shrinking.
- I went to the Jellicle Ball.
- When Anna met Meryl.
- I only want to talk about The Real Housewives of Rhode Island.
- Jennifer Tilly for president.
The Best TV Finale of the Year
The best comedies are the ones that make you cry.
That’s TV creator Bill Lawrence’s specialty. He’s the guy behind Scrubs, Ted Lasso, and, my personal favorite, Cougar Town. (If you’re ever looking for a new series to binge-stream, make that your first choice. It’s so, so good.) He also created Shrinking, which just aired its season finale and, in my opinion, is one of the best comedies on TV.
This week’s finale, titled “And That’s Our Time,” marked the end of a three-season arc on grief and, as these things go hand in hand, resilience.
Jason Segel plays Jimmy, whose wife was killed by a drunk driver. He’s at rock bottom when we meet him, but his friends—played by Harrison Ford, Jessica Williams, Michael Urie, Christa Miller, Luke Tennie, and Ted McGinley—form what is, metaphorically, a human chain to bring him back to the surface.
The healing isn’t easy for Jimmy. It’s certainly noteworthy that, even in a fictional series, it took three years for him to get to the place we leave him in the last scenes of the finale. But what makes Shrinking so remarkable is that, to me as a fan, at least, it was never about the destination. It was about the process.
In the finale, Jimmy has every reason to feel abandoned. His daughter is going to college. His best friends all have exciting opportunities to travel. His father figure moved across the country to be closer to his family. His former patient is finally in a position to get his own place. But what the show accomplished so well is establishing that, even alone, Jimmy has his support system. Even if they’re not close in proximity, they are in every thought, emotion, and action he does.
It’s a really beautiful thing to see the love and community among the ensemble in Shrinking. The show is very upfront about the fact that no one is infallible. But it’s those flaws that attract this group of friends to each other, rather than repel. There’s a reflex among them to see an opportunity to help someone as their own hero moment. Getting through crises together is almost a kink.
The initial release of Shrinking in 2023 was conspicuous, coming as we were all a few years out of the trauma of the pandemic and trying to convince ourselves “sure, everything is fine…” as we went back to life and work as it was before everything happened, pretending that it was all normal.
What the show depicts, however, is that you can pretend all you want, but the scars of the things that rocked you—a breakup, a death, a health scare, a fight with a friend—aren’t erasable. And the only way through it is together. It’s a show that reminds us to give each other grace. To treat people who are hurting with dignity. To be patient. And to have faith that things do get better, especially when we deal with them with a good sense of humor.
Bill Lawrence made a few waves on social media this week when he said that when the show comes back for Season 4, it’s going to be a new story with the same cast, since he always envisioned a three-season arc about grief, and now that story has come to its conclusion.
He was, to his own admission, not as eloquent or as specific as he could have been when he made that announcement, with fans thinking that, all of a sudden, these actors would be playing different parts in a whole new universe. All he meant was that there would be a time jump, and these characters wouldn’t be dealing with Jimmy’s mourning over his wife anymore.
A new season with the same cast telling a different story…well, that’s basically just TV. But it does seem like a bigger deal with a show like Shrinking, which is rooted, in a rarity for TV comedy, in emotion rather than hijinks. But I also think that change could be profound. How encouraging might it be to see this group of friends who went through intense grief together, now operating outside of it? To have moved on. To have healed. I can’t wait.
RSVP to the Jellicle Ball Immediately
I’m an unabashed musical theater nerd. I love it. And so it is knowing the gravity of this statement that I say Cats is the stupidest f---ing show ever put on stage.
I can’t remember another time when I felt like I needed to run from the theater immediately, otherwise I might die from my allergy to how bad a show is, than when I saw the original musical for the first time.
The entire plot, if you could call it that, is basically a bunch of tiny cats auditioning for a cult leader for the opportunity to be euthanized. The whole show is spent trying to explain what a “Jellicle cat” is, as if anyone cared, and finally, at the end, it is articulated: “A cat is not a dog.” Thanks.
All of that is to say that what is happening in the new revival, Cats: The Jellicle Ball, is pretty much a miracle.
The heinous original show is reinvented as a reverie. Each musical number is staged as a ballroom competition, a celebration of drag culture, voguing, queerness, inclusivity, and erstwhile fabulousness. It is an astonishing accomplishment. The energy in the room was so raucous that the balcony I was sitting on started shaking, to the point that my friend and I looked at each other nervously.
It’s the first time this nonsensical play ever made sense. Of course Cats should be a ballroom competition. I just can’t believe that someone was so smart to come up with the idea. That’s why I was so heartened, after gliding out of that theater on a high I’ve rarely experienced, to read what the original Grizabella, Betty Buckley, had to say about the new show:
As I watched this new iteration of “Cats,” I thought it was more than a reimagining. By intertwining two extraordinary traditions that were blooming in the same city at nearly the same moment, “Jellicle Ball” revealed something to me about New York as a crucible of self-expression in all its forms.
The more I sit with the show, the more inevitable the connection between ballroom and Broadway seems. “Cats” has always been a ballroom: Distinct personalities enter the floor, presenting their style and story, and a community watches to see who commands the room. This new production doesn’t impose anything foreign onto the musical. For me, it illuminates what was always there.
The Devil Reads Vogue
As a proper millennial, I have seen The Devil Wears Prada enough times to basically perform it off-book as a one-man show at a moment’s notice. So, obviously, I was entertained by Meryl Streep and Anna Wintour collaborating for the new cover of Vogue.
That said, wasn’t it more enjoyable when we thought Anna was seething about this book and movie? Like, yes, a good sense of humor is fun. But isn’t a little cold pettiness a bit more fabulous?
Give it a Peabody
Apologies if you have an audience with me and want to talk about anything besides The Real Housewives of Rhode Island, because I’m frankly not interested. This bats--t miracle of a TV series is all any of us should be thinking about.
I don’t even know what to obsess about first. Is it Liz, who ends every sentence by calling people “ma,” which is somehow terrifying and campy at the same time? Is it the revelation that the “sugar daddy” funding Kelsey’s life was revealed to be the son of that Rhode Island judge whose compassionate hearing of cases would often go viral on social media? Or is it Alicia, who just casually dropped “I ran over a woman” among her list of reasons she doesn’t like driving?
Best show on TV.
The Best Reality Star We Have
I’m amazed that Jennifer Tilly is able to stand up straight after carrying this season of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on her back, but I’m glad she can because this reunion look is just iconic.
More From The Daily Beast’s Obsessed
I talked to Bryan Cranston, Jane Kaczmarek, and Frankie Muniz about the revival of Malcolm in the Middle, and they were a riot. Watch here.
The final season of Hacks is really surprising, but also so good. Read more.
You can’t make this kind of stuff up: Michael J. Fox reacts to the false report that he died. Read more.
What to watch this week:
Euphoria: I was certain this was going to be terrible, but I’m always happy to be wrong. (Sun. on HBO)
Malcolm in the Middle: Life’s Still Unfair: Be warned: You will cry. (Now on Disney+)
The Christophers: Obviously a movie starring Ian McKellen and Michaela Coel is excellent. (Now in theaters)
What to skip this week:
The Outcome: Maybe it was strategic on his part that Jonah Hill is unrecognizable in this movie. (Now on Apple TV)
