#35 Sex and the City
21/10/20 17:36
My husband and I have been at a bit of a loose end, TV-wise, since we finished The Morning Show. We tried watching Away, which is a big Hilary Swank space thing, but gave up after a few episodes because it’s basically a woman managing domestic logistics and still shouldering the mental load even though she’s halfway to Mars. In space, no one can hear you scream because your other half missed his physio appointment. Then we tried Jack Ryan, a Tom Clancy spy thriller series, but there was so much blood and blowing up that I got very tired and went to bed to read my mum’s parish magazine. Every now and then some local thug uproots the daffs on the village green, and that’s about as much violence as I can cope with of an evening.
I was after some light relief, so persuaded my husband to watch Love Life with me, because I’d heard good things about it and fancy Anna Kendrick. Luckily, so does he. It’s an HBO romcom that just dropped on the BBC, and charts Darby Carter’s various relationships as she negotiates New York’s dating world. When it started, I was immediately struck by the similarities with Emily in Paris – half-hour eps featuring a big city looking its sexiest best; an attractive, impossibly slender female lead engaging in a series of romantic misfires; backchat in restaurants, great hair. But I guess the similarities end there, in that Love Life has sharper characterisation, natural witty dialogue, more authentic scenarios, better clothes. It’s an easy way to pass the time, and of course Kendrick shines in the role, even if her tresses, sensational though they are, look a teensy bit syrupy sometimes.
I guess they have to use her hair to indicate time passing in between each relationship, but as the episodes went on, *I started to wonder* if her ponytail was the only evolving thing. Darby doesn’t seem to change much as time goes on – her experiences don’t appear to affect her behaviour or outlook; she just trudges on to the next encounter and doesn’t really show any ambition beyond snagging a husband. The first episode ends with a future Darby walking through the city, pregnant - dangling the ‘happy ever after’, as if that were the only possible outcome she could ever desire.
I was a bit disappointed because I was thinking of Kendrick as the voice of Anna in Frozen – a film that rejects the traditional romantic hero rescue in favour of the women saving each other – but then I remembered that’s Kirsten Bell. Still, the point stands. I know this is a show about romantic relationships, but I May Destroy You was a show about consent, yet it still managed to reflect other aspects of life. For example, Darby’s friend Mallory is under-developed, and only seems to exist to listen to her woes – I wanted to see more of her, and why they’re friends, instead of the useless dudes she keeps hooking up with. One of the best episodes was the showdown with her mother, who is a glorious monster, and I enjoyed them finding common ground in a mattress shop. Basically, I’m more interested in the bits when she’s not with a man.
Also, WTF is the deal with the narrator? Now, I lurrrrve Lesley Manville – I’m still enjoying her in Harlots as my regular solo TV side hustle – but I don’t get what she’s doing providing the slightly random voiceover. Who is she supposed to be? It reminded me of Call the Midwife, which is splendidly narrated by Vanessa Redgrave, but that makes sense because she’s an older version of one of the characters. Who is Lesley in this scenario? I found her aural presence confusing, and it gave me a mental image of her shagging the head justice in an 18th century brothel.
The love/life balance improves as the series goes on, but whisper it: Love Life doesn’t ace the Bechdel Test. And a show about a modern woman living in New York really should, even if it is about the perils of dating. In the end, although it was a perfectly decent way to spend half an hour, I’d rather watch Mrs Maisel try to make it on the comedy circuit, her love life a fun but faint distraction from the main event. In the 1950s. 2020 needs to do better. Ain’t that the truth.
I was after some light relief, so persuaded my husband to watch Love Life with me, because I’d heard good things about it and fancy Anna Kendrick. Luckily, so does he. It’s an HBO romcom that just dropped on the BBC, and charts Darby Carter’s various relationships as she negotiates New York’s dating world. When it started, I was immediately struck by the similarities with Emily in Paris – half-hour eps featuring a big city looking its sexiest best; an attractive, impossibly slender female lead engaging in a series of romantic misfires; backchat in restaurants, great hair. But I guess the similarities end there, in that Love Life has sharper characterisation, natural witty dialogue, more authentic scenarios, better clothes. It’s an easy way to pass the time, and of course Kendrick shines in the role, even if her tresses, sensational though they are, look a teensy bit syrupy sometimes.
I guess they have to use her hair to indicate time passing in between each relationship, but as the episodes went on, *I started to wonder* if her ponytail was the only evolving thing. Darby doesn’t seem to change much as time goes on – her experiences don’t appear to affect her behaviour or outlook; she just trudges on to the next encounter and doesn’t really show any ambition beyond snagging a husband. The first episode ends with a future Darby walking through the city, pregnant - dangling the ‘happy ever after’, as if that were the only possible outcome she could ever desire.
I was a bit disappointed because I was thinking of Kendrick as the voice of Anna in Frozen – a film that rejects the traditional romantic hero rescue in favour of the women saving each other – but then I remembered that’s Kirsten Bell. Still, the point stands. I know this is a show about romantic relationships, but I May Destroy You was a show about consent, yet it still managed to reflect other aspects of life. For example, Darby’s friend Mallory is under-developed, and only seems to exist to listen to her woes – I wanted to see more of her, and why they’re friends, instead of the useless dudes she keeps hooking up with. One of the best episodes was the showdown with her mother, who is a glorious monster, and I enjoyed them finding common ground in a mattress shop. Basically, I’m more interested in the bits when she’s not with a man.
Also, WTF is the deal with the narrator? Now, I lurrrrve Lesley Manville – I’m still enjoying her in Harlots as my regular solo TV side hustle – but I don’t get what she’s doing providing the slightly random voiceover. Who is she supposed to be? It reminded me of Call the Midwife, which is splendidly narrated by Vanessa Redgrave, but that makes sense because she’s an older version of one of the characters. Who is Lesley in this scenario? I found her aural presence confusing, and it gave me a mental image of her shagging the head justice in an 18th century brothel.
The love/life balance improves as the series goes on, but whisper it: Love Life doesn’t ace the Bechdel Test. And a show about a modern woman living in New York really should, even if it is about the perils of dating. In the end, although it was a perfectly decent way to spend half an hour, I’d rather watch Mrs Maisel try to make it on the comedy circuit, her love life a fun but faint distraction from the main event. In the 1950s. 2020 needs to do better. Ain’t that the truth.
- Love Life, 10 episodes, BBC iPlayer
