It is challenging, often hilarious, and incredibly bold.
The new Netflix comedy “Grace and Frankie” is ostensibly a show about the coming out of two septuagenerian men (played by Martin Sheen and Sam Waterston) and the fallout of their divorces from their wives (Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin). Yes, a sexual identity crisis triggers the show, and an animated wedding cake opens the show as if it will be a dramedy farce; but the meat of the story is really about how two women come to terms with loneliness and betrayal in their old age. It is challenging, often hilarious, and incredibly bold.
Here’s what I love about the show:
- The interplay of masculine and feminine energies between the two main relationships… that of Saul and Robert (the suddenly gay men), and Grace and Frankie (the suddenly divorced women). They show that gender roles aren’t assigned by sex or sexuality. It’s so obvious that Robert (Sheen) and Grace (Fonda) are more traditionally masculine while Saul (Waterston) and Frankie (Tomlin) are more traditionally feminine. When the straight couples split, it’s so clear that Robert and Saul will match each other better, and that in fact Grace and Frankie will match each other better… albeit as friends.
- The fact that this show exists at all. It has happened so fast. The best art on TV now comes from websites. After Transparent, The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and now Grace & Frankie, it’s clear that any show that will push the boundaries of acceptable storytelling will have to come from Netflix, Amazon, or their ilk. First of all, it’s a show about septuagenarians. Second of all, President Bartlett plays gay… that is a signal of a new era. I live in Hollywood, I know how many great scripts are written that never see screen time because some guy in a blazer and jeans is squirmy about “what audiences can handle.” Netflix and Amazon are taking risks and this show is proof that someone at those companies wants to trust smart audiences.
- It’s not a squeaky clean, tongue-in-cheek kind of farce. It’s real and it’s dirty and it’s powerful. They take on subjects of sex, drugs, and organic personal lubricant made from yams. If you are going to commit to this kind of story, you need to commit to being honest throughout. They’ve done that here, and I’m grateful for the integrity.
- Lily Tomlin is some kind of genius master sorceress. In general, the acting is what you’d expect from the reliable Sheen, Waterston and Fonda; but Lily Tomlin is something unique. She can be withering and whimsical, but she can also throw down an F-bomb and toss back a whiskey shot. There are subtle, progressive shades to her anger and betrayal and disappointment and hope and light.
Here’s my only criticism:
- The children take away from the stories that matter. Each of the kids are supposed to feel like one of the audience. We’re supposed to relate to them and see this breakup and re-establishment through their eyes… but they’re relatively weak and distracting characters.
The best moments of the show:
- Tomlin and Fonda go on a peyote-fueled vision quest on the beach. Their trip is more clever than any stoner comedy from the Franco/Rogen genre.
- Anytime Tomlin’s character is Vlogging.
Photo by Melissa Moseley for Netflix.