At a time when so much TV is centered on female experiences of trauma, Season 3 of “Shrill” is a balm that insists on exploring female pleasure instead of pain. Throughout the series, we watch as central protagonist Annie Easton (Aidy Bryant) overcomes self-doubts in order to find greater happiness, and part of the wonder of the series is in its details: the fabulously feminine fashion, the thrill of sexual and platonic touch, the warmth of sharing a good meal with a close friend. “Shrill” is a show that insists on our right to joy, even as the series skillfully skewers the ways in which 21st-century culture seems intent on diminishing our ability to achieve it.
The third and final season centers on both Annie and her best friend Fran’s (Lolly Adefope) stories, as they both make strides towards adulthood through their professional lives and romantic relationships. This season complicates Annie’s journey by showing the ways that she has also internalized harmful ideas through a lifetime of having to navigate a world that rewards narcissism over empathy and that also consistently underestimates her because of her size. In one of the most moving plots, Annie is insulted when her friend sets her up on a date with an overweight man, refusing to see how they might have been paired for reasons beyond size. In another, Annie’s interest in writing about a wider range of topics leads her to accept an assignment to write about a group of racist “separatists,” and she ends up crafting a story that renders them sympathetic. Throughout the season, we watch as a more confident Annie struggles to navigate self-empowerment with her own privileges, and “Shrill” makes the smart move not to excuse Annie’s bad behavior but instead allows her to face actual consequences.
READ MORE: ‘The Outside Story’: Brian Tyree Henry Shines As Romantic Lead [Review]
At times, Season 3 stumbles in how to go beyond standard explorations of Millennial adulthood, relying on tropes rather than venturing into more innovative content. At this point, viewers have seen a million versions of arrested adulthood plots on TV, and the show sometimes relies on old stereotypes rather than offering a more complicated portrait of young adulthood. Part of this also comes from the fact that the show sometimes seems a bit dated in how it looks at magazine culture, the experience of going viral, and the different generational tendencies between Millennials and Gen X. Though there are updated iPhones and current fashion trends, the absence of Gen Z culture, which is clearly shaping new fashion, music, and identity in the 2020s, is a strange oversight that makes the series seem older and less hip than it imagines itself to be.
Sex itself is also a bit of a mixed bag. Some scenes are incredibly tender and funny (one hilarious moment from this season involves a couple thrilled to watch their own sex tape only to discover it’s pretty terrible). In contrast, others fall flat with numerous stale jokes about hook-up culture, premature ejaculation, and masturbation. Though “Shrill” tries its hand at being brazen, the series is at its best when it is tender rather than ribald. In one standout moment, Annie goes to visit a crush completely wasted, and he handles the situation by gently leading her to the couch and placing a blanket on her so that she can get some sleep. In another moving moment, Annie takes off her clothes in a romantic hot tub scene that illustrates how she and her date are bringing their relationship to the next intimate level and also highlights how Annie has become more confident in her own skin.
All of the show’s funniest moments are similarly subtle, with many of them highlighting just how difficult it is to overcome disconnection. When Fran goes to Em’s house for the first time and discovers that it is a palatial manor, Em quips that they are merely “upper middle class.” When Annie attempts to confront a doctor who made inappropriate comments on her weight, she shouts at her from her car before realizing the physician still has earbuds in. We watch as the doctor smiles and waves, assuming that Annie is just saying hello from her car rather than holding her accountable. Moments like these are sharp, funny and propel the series forward by showing us something about characters, rather than just being throwaway gags.
The best moments in “Shrill” are all about upending expectations, but the sudden changes that take place in the final episodes do end the series at a point of tension rather than completion. Both Annie and Fran have evolved so much over the course of the series, and it is disappointing that their characters don’t get a final farewell that truly captures their transformations more fully. Still, despite a too-soon ending, the show’s legacy will be far-reaching. After all, it’s a series that has insisted on celebrating the female body as a source of pleasure rather than shame for three seasons. [B+]
“Shrill” Season 3 is now available on Hulu.