Warning: This article contains spoilers.
The new Lena Dunham TV show Too Much came out on Netflix last week, and it has been consumed, processed and analysed and straight off the bat, I can tell you I freakin’ love it, baby.
I don’t know if it is because her flat looks basically identical to my old London pad, even down to the ‘ ____ Gardens Estate’ council estate naming etiquette or the fact that it was filmed mere feet from my trendy office in Shoreditch, but I found it #relatable. Yes, I am aware that there are many different pop culture media offerings that promote the lives of women who are a little bit bigger, a little bit louder and a little bit more erratic than everyone, but it’s so nice to see your kind of neuroticism portrayed on screen, you know?
While there is no lack of frankly terrible teen dramas that Netflix has coughed up like unwanted hairballs, Too Much sits in a league of its own because it’s actually watchable, the characters are well realised, and life makes a bit more sense. Though, as a zoomer, I got the sense that this was written by a millennial, the Gen Z characters didn’t feel very fleshed out in the same way the older characters were portrayed.
Meg Stalter’s character, Jess shines, and while some have accused her of being somewhat infantilised, I think the forced positivity is often a more common coping mechanism than people would like to admit. She is ‘too much’, yes, but she is also funny, unafraid, and fiercely accepting of the flaws she has and the flaws of those around her, and it makes her so devastatingly lovable.
Will Sharpe plays everyone’s dream boy, Felix, in a way that very few leading men do. He has a broken past and a bad boy attitude, but he just melts around Jess in a way that is so deeply endearing. He is always really trying; he treats her with respect and kindness in a way that Jess has been programmed not to fully accept, but he’s slow to anger and quick to forgive. When he was crying over Paddington with his space buns? As our Editor-in-Chief Ellie put it: “this had no business being SO hot,” and as always, she’s right.
Michael Zegen’s Zev, inspired by the real-life singer and producer, Jack Antonoff, is dastardly. He really pulls off that one ex you had that really did a number on you. Despite being with the dreamboat of the century, Jess can’t get Zev out of her head, and it’s no surprise. He turned distant, cold and mean long before they broke up and essentially bullied her into losing her sparkle. As the kids say, he wouldn’t let her ‘bejewelled’, which is ironic because Jack Antonoff produced that song. Time for a bit of introspection there, Jack?
Often in rom-coms, you forget about the collateral damage and Adèle Exarchopoulos as the French Polly does a good job of being the girl that puts all the effort into loving and caring for Felix, only for him to present the best version of himself for Jess. The irony is that Jess plays that role for Wendy Jones, and it just shows the perpetual cycle of women putting the effort into ‘fixing’ a man for the next woman. What is deeply refreshing is that at the end of the day, Wendy and Jess come to an understanding, and Polly sucks up the fact that Felix and Jess have a happy ending fairly well. While Jess spends the whole show blaming Wendy, she ends it freer than before, because solidarity between women is more important.
Is the show just Girls in London? Yes. Did I like it any less? No.
Critics have mentioned the sheer amount of sex scenes portrayed in the show and asked if they’re ‘too much’, but if it were Emily Ratajkowski in all of them, I don’t think we’d be hearing as many complaints. Let’s be honest, if you didn’t find them hot, frankly, YOU’RE weird.
I guess the elephant in the room is the writer and director herself. Lena Dunham has been no stranger to controversy. It was interesting to me that Emily Ratajkowski was in the show because in my head, the two women have always been intrinsically linked, because I read their autobiographies within a week of each other.
Both women have been accused of ‘empty feminism’, both women have had iffy moments in the past that they’re still being held accountable for to this day, and both women have profusely apologised. If they were both men, they would’ve been long forgiven now. Instances like Chris Brown’s unfortunate comeback have shown that we are quick to forget the (much worse) crimes of men to constantly drag the same few women through the mud.
While I wouldn’t describe Too Much as a devastating portrayal of modern feminism, to me, it’s just a story of a girl living in London, who doesn’t quite fit in, is obsessed with romantic comedies and is doing her best, and that was me. Honestly, I kind of needed a TV show that didn’t bite, it felt like a big laugh after you’ve been crying all day, or the rainbow at the end of a big thunderstorm. Comforting and familiar.
There are parts I laughed at, parts I really cried at, and one jarring scene that has aged the show even since filming because of how fast Trump has moved with signing Executive Orders in the US, iykyk.
I can admit my bias because of how similar my life was to the show, but I think we can all see ourselves a little bit in Jess, a woman who is ‘too much’ but seems to be okay about it. I, for one, usher and welcome in the new, genuinely entertaining era of Netflix romantic comedies with open arms, an era that began with Nobody Wants This and has carried on with Too Much. After the last few years, the lover girls all deserve this.
Lena Dunham feels like your best friend or next-door neighbour, and if her new show did anything, it taught me to back myself just a little bit more, because my Felix might be just around the corner.
