during its first season because they found it too grim.With its focus on the disorientation and grief that sets in after 2 percent of the world’s population disappears, it didn’t feel wrong, sometimes, to describe Damon Lindelof’s adaptation of Tom Perrotta’s novel as a series about coping with death.
Set on the campus of a predominantly African-American college, the show deals with race, class, gender, and related hot-button political issues in a visually assured and narratively sophisticated way, adopting the points of view of different characters to fill out a story whose larger meaning becomes harder to reduce to platitudes the more voices you hear examining it.
Years from now, when we talk about the major events on television in 2017, it’s very likely that (HBO)The second season of star-writer-producer Issa Rae’s comedy is a striking refinement of season one, moving thorough the professional and love lives of its characters with greater precision and boldness.
The performances are more focused as well; every episode that has aired to date could be different, but not better.
But thanks to the depth of the performances from the knockout cast and one of the more unflinchingly honest depictions of domestic abuse on recent television, that pleasure deepened into awe and admiration.
(Netflix)In season four, the show’s interest in psychology merges with its other concerns in an organic, fully realized way, restating its belief that even people who think of themselves as broken or worthless deserve a shot at happiness.
ended not in the city but in the suburbs, not among friends but in near isolation, with Hannah Horvath (series creator Lena Dunham) resentfully raising her baby with forced assists from her mother Loreen (Becky Ann Baker) and her friend Marnie (Allison Williams), who broke into Hannah’s house and snuck into her bed like a stalker but proved genuinely helpful in the end.