In a particularly resonating episode towards the end of the season, Netflix original series Love had its female protagonist magnificently unravel to into a hopeless sap. Mickey (Gillian Jacobs) loses her chill entirely, sending text after text to a man who just won’t give. In some hyperbolic romantic way, he’s her big whale, the ungettable get, the one who’s so wrong, he right. She’s trying so hard to maintain the edgy, and cool persona she’s kept up for long. But her every attempt at communication is a another crack in her armour, slowly giving way to her true self. She, like all of us have been at some point, is a hot, struggling mess. Cut her some slack, yeah?
Love premiered shortly after Valentine’s Day, and came to Indian Netflix viewers slightly later. Unlike any other series, this one is hard to binge-watch as it is to abandon. It’s difficult to watch more than a couple of episodes in one sitting, simply because it doesn’t have uni-dimensional characters. Co-created by the reigning king of romcoms, Judd Appatow, Love ’s every episode peels away the layers of the personalities of the two protagonists, revealing new facets. For instance, Mickey is edgy, messy, irresponsible, reckless, and vulnerable and everything in between that makes a human being. Her beau-to-be Gus (Paul Rust, who’s also co-creator) is a nerd in his 30s, acutely aware of how uncool he is when it comes to society and media reinforcing that artificial perception. He devours romcoms, he’s not particularly athletic, and he loses his bearing after just one night of mild partying. His idea of raising his self-esteem is to snag someone out of his league, which, at first, appears to be Mickey. The truth of course, then changes everything.
Together, they pretty much manage to capture the essence of dating in the modern world. The beginning of their relationship is excruciatingly stereotypical: the cool chick deigns to fall for the nerd. But lo and behold: there’s more to the story, just like how real life begins after a romcom’s credits start rolling. Love is an accurate metaphor for society these days, and how social media is compelling people to create artificial personas online. Since technology has redefined how people date, it’s not unnatural then that those synthetic personalities online have permeated our physical social lives. It’s a gross disappointment when virtual and real worlds collide; and, at the same time, if you don’t play the game, I’m told, you get left behind. So what exactly are we left to do?
Waiting for The One then, it seems, is ruining lives, as Mickey let us know in one of the earlier episodes. In an epiphanic scene, she realises she’s not the edgy cool girl that she was pretending to be. When exactly did it become so attractive to be deliciously nonchalant and aloof? The unspoken rule holding everyone back from their true feelings might just be jaundicing our perceptions. As Love progresses, you just wish the protagonists had been honest from the start, but then why is it so hard when try to do the same in real life?
Like Mickey’s eccentric Australian roommate Bertie (Claudia O’Doherty), who unashamedly admits her penchant for chubby guys, honesty is perhaps always the best policy and love will be the push you’re in need of.
