<em>Trying</em> Is a Sadcom in the <em>Fleabag</em> Mold
The hallmark of all the superlative TV comedies of the past few years has been what happens in the moments when they’re not funny at all. The BBC import Fleabag, for all its swaggering raunch and dotty hijinks, turns out to be a surprisingly profound portrait of grief and catharsis. HBO’s Succession exposes the tragic emotional vacuity lurking beneath corporate avarice run amok. On the same network, in Barry, Bill Hader plays a hit man with a heart who, like Ferdinand the bull, would rather sit and smell the metaphorical flowers than kill people, but his internal wiring and past allegiances keep getting in the way.
While this broad category of TV tragicomedy has become a thriving staple (Netflix’s is an outstandingly surreal example), the —series that make you laugh not pain but at it—is making its own mark. Here, subjects that in the standard sitcom realm are relegated to Very Special Episodes or deemed far too calamitous for the relentless cheer of or take pride of place: nervous breakdowns, addiction, the astonishing human capacity for self-hatred. The latest addition to a notably British lineup (which includes not just but Hulu’s and on Amazon) is . The eight-episode series is about a young married couple living in a picture-perfect pastel rowhouse in London’s Camden Town, their sweet, goofy life and palpable mutual affection shadowed by an ongoing failure to get pregnant.
